Figuring out how these "icy poles" work is a very tricky business...
Right. Got it.
So there I was, arm hooked up to the machine, watching my plasma swirl away into a bag while the morning news dribbled across the screen like a bad fever dream. And what were they showing? A "riot" in Melbourne, allegedly. The sort of riot where the real thugs wear body armour, carry pepper spray and look like they just walked off the set of RoboCop. The people they were beating? A ragtag crew of teenagers and old hippies—probably fresh out of a drum circle, still smelling of patchouli. But sure, let's call it a riot. Now, here's where it really gets good. I mentioned this spectacle to a few people later, thinking maybe they'd share my outrage or, at the very least, give a damn. But no. What did I get instead? A smirk, a chuckle, and—oh, the pièce de résistance—"You should really just let it go." Let it go? Yeah, let me uncork a nice, overpriced cup of coffee, sit back with my legs crossed, and soak in the latest reality TV trash. Why bother caring when ...
Comments
Nice photograph(s) Of Henry, trying to eat and finally, eating an icy poles (So, Henry, like Woody?!?)...What an interesting quote too!
Thanks, for sharing!
DeeDee ;-)
Aaaaahhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DeeDee, Woody used to be Henry’s favourite, but it seems Buzz Lightyear has pushed his way into his heart.
Sue, just be thankful that it’s without noise.
Tony, that and a cold glass of orange juice.