Mom always tells me, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all, or it'll just get deleted".
And Dad always says, "It doesn't do any good to complain, nobody's gonna listen anyway."
I'm kinda like that mule the old farmer wanted to get rid of, thrown into the bottom of a well and covered in dirt. Just shake it off and take a step up.
Wall Street can have their fucking money, as it ain't gonna be worth a shit one day anyhow. All they get is to worry about if the gun under their pillow is gonna jam when the wind blows, or who's in the car behind them in traffic.
All I need is a stick and a stone. Break the stick in half to build a fire, and take the stone hunting for something to cook. Really, nothing to get too excited about.
