Frankly, My Dear, I don’t give a damn

That’s right! How have I grown this year? It’s in the things for which I don’t give a damn!

There are a host of things that don’t upset me so much as they did. Nope. I don’t bounce about the room in rage, or go on patrol to terminate those on “the enemies list.” It is very liberating.

No fulminating at the mouth over idiotic editorials, no more seething about the actions of crapulent government employees whose true career course should have been high-paying jobs as bathroom attendants at the train station or projectionists at the porno theatre in the red-light district.

Instead, I merely vent a bit of steam on WordPress. Cast random dispersions on the truly deserving, and avoid suffering the fools gladly.

I’m in the beta version of my newest take on idiotic political discourse. I’ve taken to re-rewriting the administration’s foibles as though they were being prepared for publication in Mad Magazine. I mean it’s halfway there anyway.

Try it. Maybe you’ll like it!


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8 Replies to “Frankly, My Dear, I don’t give a damn”

  1. I do like it. I went to “Marthaland” months ago. My philosophy came from the epiphany, “He’s going to do these things and people are going to vote for him. I’m going to walk a dog.”

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