…loaded my $15000 AR-15, bought some Dude Wipes, put on my Blu-ray collection of Clint Eastwood movies, told everyone I came across that I wasn’t gay, stifled all emotion, had my wife make a sandwich and raise my kids, told my black neighbor he was “one of the good ones”, shared videos of dead Palestinians, put on my “Mission Accomplished” bumper sticker from 2003, turned on my Joe Rogan podcast, clocked out at the racism factory, and drove to the polls here in Whitesville Texas. Brought my wife and kids too. We understood the assignment. We were adulting. We did a democracy. Donald is right behind me isn’t he?
I share your feeling. I live right next to a super fancy bakery and I go by every evening around closing time and chat up the people behind the counter. I get so much free and fancy bread. Sourdough bread measured in kilos rather than amounts. Seasonal pastries. It’s so good but also a danger to my health.
I am quite certain the amount of… well everything, bread, butter, sugar, deliciousness, etc could put me in a coma
I share it around with friends, family and those in need. Mainly because I love sharing things and helping others, but also because it would seriously endanger my health otherwise. I recently got three dozen cinnamon buns with caramelized bottoms and some lemon zest on top
I did the exact same thing whenever I walked by the homeless encampments from work back to my house; I’d be a mess, maybe even pre-diabetic, if I didn’t deliberately share whenever I hit the not-free bakery after getting once again pulled in by volume discounts.
Pictured: Me not telling somebody about the free bread for more than 5 seconds (the vein is bulging because I’ve ingested several pounds of pastries)
Rad!