Beetle Painted on a Bus. That's all. Just that.
Shakespeare, Dumas, Steven King, Quentin Tarantino, and George Carlin are just a few famous wordsmiths who smithed words while stoned on cannabis. And here I am with just a glass of rosé in my hand. No wonder only three people are reading this.
Greta Thunberg is both smarter and wiser than Donald Trump. That's all. Just that.
John Dillinger's niece thinks that someone else is buried in the grave marked with his name. She says that the FBI shot the wrong guy. The FBI tweeted a denial of the allegation. Tell the truth. Did you ever think that you could read that last sentence and take it seriously? The FBI tweeted a denial of the allegations?
Officials on Easter Island are contemplating ways to discourage visitors from taking pictures of themselves picking the noses of the giant statues. That's all. Just that.
I read trashy novels to pass the time. Another trashy novel, another head-scratching scene. The American good guys seeking an ancient treasure are being driven around the UK by a native Brit, who asks if they want to see a soccer game. OK, you Brits in the audience. When was the last time that you called a football match a soccer game? And that author received money from me, through Kindle Unlimited, for reading that tripe while the three people that are reading this are doing so for free. There is no justice.
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