I probably should have it as a footnote that there WERE horse-related deaths in barns, but typically only as a result of training miscues.
I fear I might've said too much. The last thing I want is a grange assassin showing up at my door, wanting to borrow a cup of [BANG!].
I shouldn't blab secrets, I know. But it's like Nietzsche said, "Whatever doesn't kill me must've missed."
Good thing I quit biting my nails. I have bad teeth but not biting my nails anymore is a positive result.
If anyone from the Grange Brotherhood is reading this, it's all ha-ha, joking around, not real secrets.
I also like to examine the group dynamics of kids who haven't been taught social skills and expectations. Little hellions worse than Tarzan.
What grange assassins look like in bad dreams: a black veil covering their mouths, orange beaks for noses, and piercing dark eyes.
OK, it's not all ha-ha, I admit it. But should I be cowed by the Grange Brotherhood? Or should I tell all?
I've gone from being threatened by a hiatus blob last week to the entire Grange Brotherhood this week. When do things get back to normal?
Post a Comment