[Went down to C'town around tea-time. Bought food, then had a pastry and a hot cup of milk tea. When I got on the bus later it was rush hour. Sadly, many of the other passengers were breathing. Someone should do something about that.]
You know, my stuffed turkey vulture often suggests that I whack random strangers over the head, so that I can harvest fatty inner thighs from their cadavers for his dinner.
It's an attractive idea. Extremely so.
Spongy Embarcadero high rise law office clerical dingoes. Nine of them. Eighteen fatty inner thighs. Freshly harvested. Not quite organic -- they're full of chemicals -- but if whacked and eaten, the world would be a better place.
Haven't done it yet.
This blogger is all about improving the world. It's a raison d'etre.
And a happy carrion-eater is a jolly good thing.
Please use your imagination.
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