No, no; it’s not the Pentagon that the sea cucumbers control. It’s ANOTHER building in DC. (Sorry, sea cucumbers!)
I never knew our (late) little female BC did that until I went out on the deck one really hot day, looked down, and there she was in all her ermine-coated beauty, happily ensconced in a shallow broad pit of cool, newly-dug earth under the hollyhocks, happy as a clam and cool as a cucumber.
Actually, at out last house we had a constant parade of spiders, which I can’t stand, until the first little (I call ’em shield) bugs showed up. Never had a stink; put ’em outside when I see ’em.
Nothing Freudian about it. He thinks of himself as reigning — wherever he is.
Wellll, JR, THEY are….
um, for RJ, wrong game, definitely right card!
GREAT memory from my late teens / early adulthood. As a love song it always makes me laugh.
Or…“Pick guitar, fill fruit jar and be gay-oSon of a gun, we’ll have big fun on the bayou…”
Granted what you say is accurate, why are they shooting each other, and often slaughtering young children, since presumably they do not hold other blacks responsible for any of the woes you mention?
This is what happens when you spend an entire lifetime distorting reality to suit yourself — you get to the point where your brain literally cannot proceed in a straight line from Point A to Point B.