Inching toward a curse laden diatribe addressing billionaires, old white male politicians, slime-balls and portly white men generally, blond, orange presidents, anyone called Nunberg, cheeseburgers, Democrats and the GOP.... and the list does go on a little. So it's probably just as well I spent the late morning letting off a little steam with the Compost Piles.
Compost Piles really are so understanding, they take it all in, nod wisely, tell
me I know exactly what I'm talking about and remind me that in the long run
we're all dead and rotting. I would move a chair down there, hang out more
often, but sadly there's something far too inscrutable about them and I'm
beginning to suspect their motives.