Category: Essays
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You will all bow to the lard cheeses.
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Someone took a survival letter — written by a persecuted community to say we named our oppressors, we survived, we are still here — and turned it into a revenge fantasy about the end of the world.
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That Pirro bitch reminds me of the rabid lunatic at the bus stop surrounded by imaginary foes, spitting and raging and making faces in every direction.
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I like Subway, but four Sandwiches unto myself equals a burgeoning ecosystem arising from the soggy leavened bread, droopy vegetables, and slimy meat.

