Mr. and Mrs. Scott Pruitt pressed some “CHIKIN” franchise flesh recently, while spreading a little moral turpitude in Morocco.*
The first human beings were not Caucasians. They were not black; they were not yellow; they were not red, orange, green, or blue. They were brown.
The greatest book of all time,* the “Art Of The Deal,” has no advice to help us with the rapidly mutating calamity of the choosing of a mentally ill narcissist to play president.
It’s all-ahead flank for the Drumpf Tramp Steamer right now; but some of us already know where this leviathan shit-scow is headed.
So dude— how’re those New Year’s Resolutions working out for you. . . Still weigh the same? (Me too.) Still self-medicating too much? (Yeah.) Still not exercising (bowling is not exercise) every day? (Me either.) Maybe you should just read a great book instead. A real l l l l ly great book.
The pages that Wilkins copied show his embrace of the perennial questions of science, philosophy and religion, as well as a keen interest in the many multi-dimensional orders of beings with whom we share the universe and this planet. In Sir Hubert, I have found a kindred spirit.
Though I haven’t yet determined whether I think that the movie The Martian is the best flick I’ve ever seen (Blade Runner, also a Ridley Scott production, being my long time fave; Prometheus was his previous film), it is certainly the most involving because of its strong emotional component and its geeky appeal. The movie’s Robinson Caruso in …