At the shelter, I dropped him with an assistant, told her I didn’t want to know if he died and drove away. But I've been thinking about that little bird. I wish I'd given her my information to find out if he had lived...or even if he had died. I guess I didn't want to hear the bad news.
My father couldn’t bear bad news or upsetting headlines; he read the sports page, avoided politics, avoided trouble. Told me to do the same. Maybe my father was like that because of the War. I don't know, but I know I did the opposite of everything he told me. But now I'm just like him. I avoid reading the newspaper; I can't listen to the radio. I don't want to read about the depraved actions of this pendejo in chief, hear about the policies of his cruel cabinet. Even with this bird, I couldn't bear to hear what happened, couldn't bear to hear the bad news.
McCONNELL REBUKES TRUMP ON SYRIA AND AFGHANISTAN
Must be hard for McConnell to stand up against the Boss Man, because when he does it sounds like he’s juggling rocks inside his mouth. During his speech, he tried to get his words out while swishing around the impediments to his taking an opposing stand. He couldn't do it, or do it righteously, without some kind of regurgitation of fear that gripped his vocal cords, tongue and larynx.
I wonder what's inside there, exactly?