Some lunatic dentist, Walter James Palmer, from Eden Prairie (MN) has killed a beloved, protected lion in Africa. Cecil was the lion’s name. Cecil was Walter’s 48th “trophy” kill of big game. Trophy, my ass. Murder. I think Walter should be shot with an arrow, then, 40 hours later, skinned, then have his head cut off. Just like he did to Cecil. Why is big game hunting even legal? Anywhere? And what kind of demented, evil, useless waste of air wants to kill magnificent animals for the fun of killing them? I hope they all die. Slow and painful deaths.
our house and yard are killing me. I don’t believe I’m exaggerating. Every day I go out into the fucking blazing sun to pull weeds, stain the fence, scrape the paint on the side of the garage, (later I’ll prime and paint, and reglaze the windows), water (although both hoses have holes in them), paint the front steps, dig up recalcitrant plants, and/or put water seal on one thing or another. I’m so sick of continuously cleaning up after the two apple trees that tomorrow I’m calling the tree guy to come and cut them down. Tomorrow men are coming to replace the furnace and air conditioner. Yesterday men came and cleaned out the gutters. Today I cleaned up after them. When I get get overheated, which takes about ten minutes, I come into the house, run cold water over my head, and cry.
I have, at any given time, approximately two dozen chigger bites. And cuts, bruises, scrapes, slivers, rashes, aches, stiffness, and, between the sunscreen, bug repellent, and sweat, I smell like a goat. Oh joy.
while I’m wearing myself out, other people have nothing else on which to spend their time or money besides hunting lions, or planning parties, or traveling to exotic locations. All in all, I’m glad I’m not doing any of those. Wretched as I am doing what I do, it’s better than being a shallow, spoiled, swell who wouldn’t be able to do anything practical or worthwhile even if their life depended on it.