I'm in it just so I can yell at the bleeding brats to git off My lawn Me... it's a role I play like adult to shield the children from as much existential angst as possible until of course adolescents kicks in and I can go full crotchity ol' coot on the damn derma wrapped ambulatory objectifications of floccinaucinihilipilification and get to force both existential AND adolescent angst on the lil narcissistic nattering naybob's larping cultural revolution without creed or clue whom They are combating the creepy lil' freeks
As far as I'm concerned it's rabbi rules to talk about the lunacy that makes up this civilization mess We seem to think We're good at when We ain't managed one what's lasted but sure have littered the joint with ruins many built by ancestors what We can't even name because some sociopathic psycho talked the tribe into sleeping where They poop what so they could pretend to be king...
“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.”― Kurt Vonnegut...
Hummmm kay then, I don't absolve Myself of responsibility for the state I allowed things to deteriorate to although the tone of the above screed may seem to suggest that I've taken that tact but in fact I'm plain bewildered considering just what in the wide wide world of sports Y'all breeders had in mind when breaking this brood of brats because belief in exceptionalism coupled with ignorance makes for the kind of intellectual confection I'm gonna go with calling anthrax ripple as crunchy frog is far to kek for the little wizzo kids to be associated with... I mean seriously, what the hell was the reasoning that got Us an entire generation of a rose by any other name is someone else's fart fubars? Sure We are what We pretend to be but My god put a little effort into it would Ya? Elseif I'm gonna bitch about gittin off My damn lawn.