After an unwitting year-long hiatus, I’m attempting to stretch my literary legs again and make good on my daily rant that I can write better than some authors. And so it goes. Stringing words together into sentences that exude meaning and motion. So without further ado...
Once upon a time, in a cubicle far, far away, I made plans to move to the United States. Nothing came of them, of course. Reality crept in, set my head straight and put my nose to the grindstone. Now, older, wiser, and nasally grounded, I am relieved to have stayed Stateless. Why? Crazy people. Crazy people who eat KFC’s double-downs. Crazy people who eat KFC’s double-downs while carrying guns. While I know statistically, Americans read more books, I’ll bet dimes to Tim Bits all those books are Smith & Wesson owner’s manuals, greasy with seven herbs and spices. Well, I’m here and they’re there and they can keep their guns. The streets of Toronto don’t need any more of their stolen and smuggled weapons.
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