Full disclosure here, writing about myself is the equivalent of preparing a picnic basket full of shit sandwiches and consuming them all without a beverage. You can't make chicken salad out of chicken shit no matter how much mayo you add. That's all. Be well, do well, Scarpoe
Fawn looking up from enjoying pears in the backyard.
Outer riches with inner poverty was one hell of a learning experience. Don't let money fool you. Do good things when you have (click -- $$) it.
If you have to try to fit in, you are in the wrong place.
The only thing you owe anybody in this life is proper manners. That's all.
How about taking on the issues instead of the people that present them. If we can't see common interests we are fucked. Love to stay, can't.