In light of the alternate title to my last post, here’s a heartening find:
And for those not sure why I am talking about monkeys or fecal tossing, that is an excellent question. I believe it stemmed from around the time my dad died three years ago. If memory serves me, my sister sent me a card with a picture of a stressed chimp on the cover, and the inside line said something to the effect that I could throw poop if I wanted to.
Or maybe Kara received the card from someone else.
Hell, maybe I sent it to her.
I have no idea. But ever since then, when the excrement hits the air conditioning, as my friend Kurt Vonnegut used to say, I joke about throwing feces.
If you are offended, please know that I have never actually followed through on the threat.