If This Flag Offends You…..

I was born and raised an American as many can claim. Many people flock to America illegally to live the American Dream that only the illegals can live. Coming from far and wide from countries all over the planet people come to America because America is Safe, America hands out everything at American’s expense, America is the Land of Opportunity, America is Great – The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.

Yet, in many subdivisions, in towns across America, on the sides of houses across America and on T-shirts, The American Flag offends these immigrants that arrive to America illegally to live here on a daily basis.

The American Flag Offends Them!

There has been meetings, at schools, towns, subdivisions and every possible place across America of these illegal immigrants with their own beliefs and religions, which is fine, stating that their American neighbor who happens to be a veteran is flying the American Flag on their house and it needs to be taken down, because it offends them. Our public schools no longer allow American Flag T-shirts to be worn during Cinco de Mayo where I live because it is politically incorrect and is offensive? Am I still in America?

America was founded on Immigration, America is a melting pot of people from many lands. America is now the place to be when they flee their homelands for one reason or ten.

I don’t care if they have a different religion or dress different than I do, they are people like I am, however, they came to our country remember? They came here and don’t have to live by our laws, by our rules, and we are told we must change our ways so they aren’t offended, remember?

Certainly if it was the other way around I would have to learn another language and abide by the rules of another country if I moved to another country. So, what is the difference in moving to America? Has America become so lax in trying to appease everyone that does not belong here legally the Government forgets who America really is?

I’ll hang my American Flag, wear my American Flag T-shirt and paint my house red, white and blue if I want to. I am an American and proud of it. People who flock here by the thousands to get away from their oppression should be happy they are here and start abiding by America’s rules.

When our ancestors came here, they were so glad to be free. They worked hard, and did what they needed to, to become citizens. They started businesses, had their children, and they served in our armed forces. Now when someone comes here, they may not work, because they get so many free things. They never had it so good. Now they have time to look for trouble, and do not appreciate what they have, as they didn’t have to work for it. When things are just given to us, not only do we not appreciate those things, we don’t especially care about the giver, either. In this case, the U.S. and it’s citizens. Everyone loses.

We are hurting ourselves as a culture because there’s strength in diversity. If we all just water down our beliefs to the point where no one ever gets offended then what will those beliefs really be worth? The flag of the United States of America belongs on every building, balcony, and yard in this country. It belongs EVERYWHERE. It belongs to US, the people of the United States. Anyone who believes it is offensive should turn around, hop on a bus, plane or boat to return to their country and stay there.

The Stars and Stripes belongs to each of us: We The People. It is OURS; it is not for the foreigners who are offended by its presence. If we must defend it now against those who hate the sight of the freedom it represents, then so be it. From the first stitches of the first flag to the flag we have today, it remains a symbol of liberty and makes a powerful statement. We cannot allow the offenses of a few to kill the rights of the many.

Kate, 42, Widow USMC, Mother of three, McAllen Texas (via email 18 Oct 2014)

After reading Kate’s email this afternoon I realized that I’m not the only one pissed off at the way this country is being fucking ripped apart. I have curbed my opinions for along time here on this blog and I’m done with all the heavy petting, its time to fuck. Y’all are fucking right I have some anger issues when it comes to the America hating fucks who are offended by all things American but won’t go home. What’s your fucking point? I’m 46 years old, an Air Force disabled veteran, and I’ve seen a allot of bullshit in my life so far. I’m watching the absolute decline of The United States of America and I’m really worried for the outcome of our country. My three children and my granddaughter will be paying the price long after I’m dead, and so will your children and grandchildren. Think on that one for just a bit. I’m watching America commit collective suicide by twice electing a clearly unqualified, foreign born, anti-American joke to the highest office in the land. I’m watching people pour across our borders openly and to a welcoming government. I’ve watched politicians of both parties who are paid to destroy this country every single fucking day. Immigrants used to want to assimilate, now they demand that we respect their beliefs while they take a shit on our beliefs, our traditions, and our country. If the American flag offends you then why are you even in this country? Doesn’t your country give away all the great free shit?

If you’re an immigrant to America and want to live in this country learn to speak English. That’s what immigrants used to do. My German and Scandinavian ancestors had to do it why can’t immigrants today do it? If you think this country sucks and your country is so great, why are you still fucking here? This is The United States of America, where we fly the Stars & Stripes, you left your country and now you want our country to be like your country, fuck no and fuck you, now just go home.

And to you pieces of shit sheeple “Americans” who tolerate this bullshit and say we need to be “more tolerant” and “all cultures are equal” can pucker up and kiss my motherfucking ass. What the fuck is tolerant about being offended by Americans and the American flag? You’re right, not one fucking thing.

And you fucktards in the main stream media propaganda arm of the democratic party who have turned a blind eye to what the government is doing to this country should be ashamed for even thinking you are patriotic Americans. But how well you fucking sleep at night under the protection of the flag of our nation you hate so much. Where is your outrage as our government tears up the Constitution and uses it as toilet paper? When the obituary is written for this country within the next 50 years, you fuckheads should be named as the cause of her death. You allowed a foreign born person to be elected to the highest office in the land all because you wanted the first black president so you could have the fucking ratings on your network. How’s that shit working out for you? Sleep well bitches, you’re welcome.

I will say it’s a sad state of affairs when we have so many people who live in this grand land of opportunity, this wonderful country, who hate and despise everything American. Its real fucking sad indeed. Now you America haters can kiss my ass, at least I know when I go to sleep tonight it will be with a clear conscience.

I Have A Message For One Person

But y’all can read it just as well. I’m not going to yank out my soap box but I am going to say my fucking piece while it is fresh on my mind. Earlier today I was at the mall to get a new pair of shoes. It has been 8 years since I bought the shoes I’m retiring because I buy shit that lasts and I take care of them. Anyway, when it was my turn in line the young lady rang up my total, I pulled out my VA card and cash, then asked her what my new total was. Before she could do anything I hear screaming from behind me from this woman yelling at the clerk telling her that I didn’t deserve the fucking military discount that this baby killer was begging for like a dog wanting fucking scraps. I’ve been called many derogatory names in many different languages in my life but this bitch was seriously pissed off at me. At first I was thrown by her words, after a quick breath I turned to her with this, my favorite movie quote.

“As a military member, I have more responsibility here than you could possibly fathom. And that my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. I know deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you don’t want me on that wall, you need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punch line. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a person who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then question the manner in which I provide it. I prefer you said THANK YOU, and went on your way”.

She, of course, stood there with her fucking piehole wide open, at a loss for words I assume, she didn’t have a clue what I just told her. I am not a person who raises his voice or hand to a woman, and in a calm voice I asked if there was going to be anymore stupid fucking shit spilling over her lips. While I stared into her lifeless eyes for a few moments she turned to her five young children and told them they were going to a different store, one that doesn’t support murderers and baby killers. I’m not an emotional man, but when I turned to the clerk I had tears in my eyes, she touched a nerve that I couldn’t control. Wanting to continue my purchase I handed the clerk my cash, she closed it in my hand and said she will not except my money. She voided the transaction and then I watched her as she bagged my box with the shoes just before she handed it to me. She turned her head, I watched her wipe tears away, and she tells me thank you, some of us will always appreciate your sacrifices to our country, we love each and every one of you, we really do.

What do you say? How do you say it? She came around the counter and gave me the most sincere hug I have felt in a long time. I left there smiling, not because I was given shoes, but for the first time ever in person, a perfect stranger openly admitted that she appreciated our military and our services to our nation. That rarely happens in our society and I got to be a part of it, I will remember this day for a long, long time.

Karma Is A Bitch Westboro Church

Now, typically I stay away from the bullshit that spews out of the Westboro Baptist Church but I found the story y’all are about to read humorous. Well, at least it was humorous to me. You don’t know who the WBC are? Be a friend and just Google them. But, do a search here in this blog or search the tags and you will also find breath I wasted talking about them. Anyway, I owe thanks to Shannon for sending me an email asking if I saw this story, I hadn’t, so I had to look it up. Shannon is one of a handful who belong to the unofficial Scorpion Army who send me stuff they think I might find interesting and one of the few people who make it through the spamguardian. The following story is being borrowed, to include the writer’s opinion, the pictures, and so forth. I give the original author full and entire credit. As far as my take? This is karma at work, the WBC deserves this little reminder right across the street. Fuck them for how they believe and fuck them for how they act, they are the true meaning of being a piece of shit.

Paul Lewis in Topeka

Tuesday 23 September 2014 13.02 EDT

Original story in The Guardian here.

Few neighbourly disagreements are as peculiar, or as visible, as the dispute that rages at the end of Southwest Churchill Road, in an otherwise quiet part of Topeka,Kansas.

On one side of the street is the Westboro Baptist church, the insular and fiercely anti-gay group which has gained infamy for its its offensive protests and placard signs. There is an upside-down American flag in the churchyard and billboards informing passing cars that ‘God Hates Fags’, alongside CCTV cameras, threats to trespassers and a warning that homosexuals risk “the vengeance of eternal fire”.

Across the street, its antithesis. A whole house painted top-to-bottom in rainbow colours, the universal symbol of the gay rights movement. A rainbow flag – hung the right way up – flutters above the roof; hand-painted signs in the yard advocate peace and tell passersby: ‘Feel free to come on property for pictures’.

“This is the first amendment right here,” said Davis Hammet, one of three charity workers living in the rainbow-coloured bungalow, which they have called the Equality House. “Within 50 feet you have a rainbow house and you have people telling them to burn in hell.”

Yet something curious has happened in the 18 months since the property directly opposite the Westboro church was purchased by a peace-loving charity and, in one of the more entrepreneurial acts against a hate group, transformed into a multi-coloured haven for peace, equality and gay pride. Despite appearances, the two opposing neighbours have developed a surprisingly cordial, even amiable detente.

“I go out jogging in the morning, and they’re taking out the trash, and we have small talk,” said Hammet. “Like, ‘Hey, it’s a beautiful day outside’ or ‘This damn snow: I wish I could get warm’. Just basic things that you say to neighbours.”

Occupants of the Westboro church and Equality House have even exchanged phone numbers. Recently, when someone took all of the Equality House gay pride flags and, without their knowledge, deposited them in Westboro’s yard, Hammet’s phone beeped with a text message. “It said something like: ‘A criminal has taken your flags and put them in our yard. We have put them in your mailbox. We would like to return them to you.’”

“It is odd. I didn’t really think this was going to happen,” he concedes. “A lot of people would think that in a situation like this we would have two cannons pointed against each other.”

Stranger still, the feeling of neighbourly tolerance extends across the road. “We’re just very happy to have them here,” said Rebekah Phelps-Davis, a prominent member of the church’s 70-strong congregation. In a twist on that oft-quoted Christian axiom ‘The Lord works in mysterious ways’, Phelps-Davis said God must have determined “from eternity past” that the house would be purchased by the campaigners.

The arrival of Equality House, she pointed out, has been a publicity boon for the Westboro Church, drawing attention to their own, gay-hating message. “We’re always cordial,” she said. “We are friendly with them.” Then, frostily, she added: “But we will not be friends with them.”

That is hardly surprising for a church whose vitriolic diatribes against the gay community have offended millions. The Westboro church – banned from entering the UK or Canada – substitutes argument with shock tactics, traveling to New York to hold up placards thanking God for the 9/11 attacks, or picketing the funerals of American soldiers killed in combat. Both, they claim, are God’s punishment to America for tolerating homosexuality.

Their military funeral pickets, in particular, have proven especially controversial, even though they received the backing of the supreme court on free speech grounds.

Phelps-Davis’s may have a point that the arrival of the rainbow house across the street has been a publicity magnet. But she also contended that her neighbours are “just regular Joes” and “as quiet of as the rest of the neighbourhood”, and that is not true.

The Equality House, owned and run by the charity Planting Peace, attracts a steady flow of supporters, campaigners, and eccentrics from all over the world. Few are the typical characters one would expect to see in Topeka.

“We just had a person just show-up and ask if they could be a unicorn in the space,” said Hammet, 24, the director of operations. “They just showed up in black leather bondage gear, plus rainbow tassles and a unicorn horn, and kind of danced around on the front lawn.”

The Westboro residents have looked on as their neighbours encouraged same sex couples to kiss on their roof, held a gay wedding ceremony in their front yard – directly opposite Westboro’s ‘Gay Marriage Dooms Nations’ sign – and even hosted a rowdy LGBT festival, to be repeated next month, called “Drag Down Bigotry.”

The house has predictably gained fame online, and its residents have become adept at viral fundraising. When a five-year-old girl set up a pink lemonade stand on its lawn, asking for donations to support peace and equality, the campaign took off, drawing soldiers from a nearby base to flock to the house, and raising $30,000.

After the Westboro church announced plans to picket Robin Williams’ funeral, the Equality House retaliated with a fundraiser for the late actor’s favourite charity that brought in $100,000.

The rainbow bungalow has also become a haven for disaffected members of the church, many of whom are related, by blood or marriage, to the founding pastor, Fred Phelps, who died earlier this year aged 84.

Lizzy Phelps, who left the group years ago and now mentors transgender teens, helped paint the house its rainbow colours. Zach Phelps-Roper, who left the church just a few months ago, has also made contact with his old neighbours.

The Equality House’s residents say their arrival was never intended to create an antagonistic relationship. The idea was to counter their hateful message with positivity – and they believe it is working.

When Fred Phelps died in March this year, Hammet sent text messages to Westboro church members, past and present, expressing his heartfelt condolences. A few hours later, he received a reply from a Westboro resident across the road. “I got a text that just said ‘thank you’,” he said. “That is all it said, but to me it was a really human, powerful, moment.”

Yet while civility, and sometimes even kindness, prevails in daily interactions between the neighbours, they are keeping up appearances online. Westboro, a prolific user of social media, is almost constantly trolling its neighbours with antagonistic tweets and Vine recordings.

Most of the time the occupants of the rainbow house ignore the bait, but once in a while they will respond, tongue in cheek.

When Westboro recently put out a video challenging the rainbow house to a weird deviation of the the ALS ice bucket challenge, pouring water over a ‘Hell Is Eternal’ placard, their neighbours reacted with their own, good-humoured YouTube clip, pouring water over their multi-coloured donation box.

“One time we tweeted them a picture of rainbow pancakes and asked them if they’d like to come over for breakfast,” Hammet said. “They just tweeted back that we should burn in hell.”

But Why Doesn’t It Work This Way?

Am I Alone In Hating Autocorrect?

Posted From The Sting Of The Scorpion’s Android.

Back To The Real World We Go Go

I will admit to everyone, right here, right now, that I avoid Walmart at all costs. I would rather fake my own death so I could move to a non-extradition country if it meant being able to miss all the joys and wonderment of stepping one foot inside any Walmart. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate Walmart, I just hate going in Walmart, parking outside of Walmart, the way Walmart smells, the people who shop at Walmart, and most employees at Walmart, and okay, you caught me, I hate Walmart. I don’t know if y’all have Walmarts where y’all live, I don’t know if y’all have ever seen a Walmart in person, or if all of y’all have even heard of Walmart, so y’all will just have to fallow this story and we can all assume that y’all are fully aware what a Walmart is. My wife knows that I can’t stand going to Walmart for any reason, but last night she asked me to go, and without a single word, I went. Why? Who knows, it wasn’t like she offered me hot sex in the shower or anything. She just smiled at me, called me honey (she always calls me honey when she wants something), and said she would really appreciate it if I were to go to the Walmart for her. Damn.

Apparently she had stopped at the Walmart on her way home from work to get a few things, nothing out of the ordinary about that scenario, we give Walmart quite a bit of money each year. I wish I could claim Walmart as a dependent on my taxes. The reason she stopped in the first place is because my daughter texted her and asked if she would mind stopping and getting her tampons because she was out. While at Walmart my wife must have spotted a squirrel or something and decided to follow it around Walmart, except she missed the entire aisle that sells tampons and other feminine hygiene products. How do I know this factoid? Because she came home without the one reason she went to Walmart, the tampons. Shit happens, right. Now, I’m now stranger to tampons and feminine products, being married (twice) and having two daughters ensured I was always kept in the loop when one or all three of them were bleeding out. As well, I have 10 nieces ranging from (now) 13 – 19 years of age. Seems almost all of them had to have their first period at my house for some odd reason. Maybe I just scare the blood out of them who knows. The most uncomfortable I have ever been was having to show my 13 y/o niece how to use a tampon the first time because her mother was out-of-town and my wife and daughters were with her. They always say that some things can never be unseen, that is pretty high on my list and I have seen so really awful shit.

Anyway, back to my excursion into the local Walmart. I break my own dress-code when I go to Walmart, meaning I don’t where my slip on sandals or anything camouflage. I go dressed like I have a mirror in the house I just left and know how to use it. I know, I’m one in a million that do. What can I say, I care what I look like when I walk out the door. I’m not vain and don’t need to “represent”, but I don’t want to be the one that gets pointed at with someone mouthing WTF? about. Just like going to work, appearance is the first thing another person sees. Why don’t people shopping at Walmart understand that fact, that their first impression that they are leaving behind is not starting on a high note. I know why, because they really don’t give a rat’s ass of a shit to care that much. Sorry, when my people of Walmart faucet gets turned on it takes allot of force to twist that bitch shut. I know, I know, lighten up. Screw that, am I the only one who has ever observed the personal hygiene habits of most of the freaks who hit Walmart? Maybe it is just where I live, we are just a bunch of hillbillies and such. I might need to explore “Why people shop at Walmart looking like shit” in the future. I have done the research so I just hope I can stomach writing about it all. Just had a vurp, not a good sign.

I set off with my mission clear in my head and I will execute it flawlessly. Drive. Park. Tampons. Checkout. Parking lot. Drive home. No eye contact, no observing, and sure the hell not going to touch anything I don’t need to or speak with anyone unless I’m am bleeding out, and then that would be pretty questionable as well. The drive was pleasant, caught every red light with nobody around, the parking lot was packed at Walmart, there were shopping carts everywhere I looked, and as I was pulling into a handicap parking spot up front I noticed this lady (40ish I guessed) running while holding her pants up with one hand and texting with the other hand, simply amazing to watch. Let the games begin my minions! I made the command decision to grab a cart from the parking lot. Good thing I did because there were none to be found as I walked in. Damn it, the lady that was running into Walmart is waiting there like the cart-gods are going to shit her one. Fine, take mine, have a nice day, run along now. I went out to get myself another cart. Wouldn’t you know it, I got the one with the one really squeaky wheel on the back and missing the rubber part of the wheel in the front, bonus.

Intentionally I parked on the grocery side of the store because I wanted to get some oranges. First stop in Walmart and get the very last bag of oranges in sight, lucky me. Right? Wrong, the reason it was still there is because half of them were smashed up and dripping. How nice for me, put those back, lets look for a few single oranges perhaps. Great, they looked good, felt good, so I got three, and two grapefruit too. I decided to go around, way around by way of the back of the store so I could go to the shoe department to get some shoe freshener powder. Done. Out of the corner of my eye I see this rather large woman, when I say large I mean like 300 lbs plus, large, trying on what looks to be like a size 100kkk bra over the top of her faux fur coat. Why? WTF? She had me mesmerized, I was actually silently cheering her on because I knew if she tried hard enough she could get it hooked in back. Wrong, she fails. When she is done, she wads up the 43 yards of bra and tries to stuff it inside a kids size 4 shoe on the shelf. Didn’t make sense to me then and doesn’t make sense to me now, but that’s the way it all went down right there in the Walmart shoe department. Got what I needed, time to roll, well, squeak, well, I was moving nonetheless. Damn Walmart carts!

Next stop, feminine hygiene. I roll up onto the aisle and there are at least 14 women all staring at the tampons and pads like they never seen these amazing little blood suckers in person before. There was even one that had an advertisement “As Seen On TV” stuck on the shelf in front of it. Must not be a channel I watch. I know what brand, size, color, and deodorizer I was looking for, I could see it but couldn’t even get to it. What to do, muscle my way into the crowd of angry-looking women, say pardon me in the two languages I know, or just wait the herd out, maybe one will bleed to death and that will be the break I need. Tic toc tic toc tic toc, 4 minutes is long enough bitches, here I come ready or not. I was rude, I admit it, I reached in front of two of them, they snarled as if they wished to bite my hand or something. As I pulled my hand back with the correct box one of them turned to me, as if to ask me a question, then quickly stopped herself when she realized I was a man. Oh shit, there is about to be some scrapping in aisle 14 and the lone white man is not going to survive, he may be doomed. NOT, I placed the box of tampons in the cart and pushed my way through all the heifers, I have to do the same at the farm, accept my heifers are not so beefy.

I chose to self checkout because I really didn’t need any more assistance or lip from anybody. There are ten, count them, ten self checkout lanes at each end but only ONE is operational and there are a assload of people waiting. Nope, the twenty items or less lane is packed as well. Sombitch! Soon, I found a lone cashier motioning me to come to her lane, fair enough, let’s do this. She was nice enough, she should be greeting people at the door tho, 218 y/o and slower than honey in the winter in North Dakota outside in a drift of snow. Sheeeesh. Everything was cool until she grabbed the tampons, she began to blush and giggle a bit as well. Yea, yea, yea, you old dried up prune, I’m buying tampons. My luck kicks in right here, the fucking boxes bar code won’t scan, 92 tries old woman, and it still wont scan. Double damn! She called it in, someone came, then she left, I waited, she returned because she forgot what the hell she was looking at. Finally, she returns, types some bullshit in to override the price and the register rings up at $119.67. What? now we need an override for the override. Is that my stomach growling? In the end, I paid and got the hell out of the store.

I unlock my car, put the bag in the passenger seat, start the car, look up at the windshield, and see somebodies freaking business card under the wiper. I get out, grab it, toss it down without even looking, get back in, light me a cigarette and go to back out. Well, wait because 4 others are waiting for someone to pull out and can’t see my reverse lights in the dark. Hey, it was daylight when I came in, wasn’t it. Have I been in there that long? Did I lose time somehow, what day is it? Oh look, one of the fucktards is backing up to let me out, how kind. Drove home, got all the red lights except one, bonus time. Went inside, kissed my wife, handed my daughter her tampons, and began to walk away. I hear “thank you daddy” from my daughter. I replied, “anytime babygirl, anytime”. The end. Fuck Walmart! Is it just me or is it true that all Walmarts smell like piss and old people?

We Love To Hate The Ones We Love

Texas

Perfectly Described

Published by Scorpion Sting using my Droid.

New Blog Equals New Hate Mail

I really didn’t think it would take long for the haters to catch up to me here @ my new location. I didn’t cut and run from the other ones, I did leave a forwarding address, and I wanted it to be real easy to find me. Was this a mistake? Should I have made it a challenge to be re-found? I think not, because for the most part the haters only equal around 8% of my readers. Now, you might be asking yourselves, as I often do, why do they keep reading if they don’t like me or the content I publish. Well, keep scratching your heads boys and girls because I don’t have an answer to that question and I fear I never will. For those of you new to The Sting Of The Scorpion and what goes on here let me explain it a bit. This is my personal space where I post what I like, for whatever that reason may be. I have never felt I needed to justify that in the past and nor can I see myself ever apologizing for anyone being here.  With that being said I will give you my newest Hate Fan’s e-mail to me late last night.

“Dear Mr. Sting,

You don’t know me but I have been doing a little reading on you new blog on WordPress and I can say I don’t like what you post, say, or represent. The only reason I ever found myself looking at what you call a blog is because I needed to use my 17 year old daughter’s computer and your page was pulled up. I began to look around and there is quite a bit of fowl language and what might as well be porn the way some of the girls are dressed in those pictures. I could only take so much and had to back out it because in many ways it pissed me off. I noticed that you reference a certain section just for “Hate Mail” and when I was reading thru it I noticed that those readers and I have allot in common, we all think you should crawl back under the rock you came from. I have since forbidden my daughter from reading /viewing your blog. I noticed she was a follower and I un-followed her in case you are wondering. I don’t see the point in continuing because as I can see you have no interest in changing your ways. Perhaps you should know that there are parents out here who don’t appreciate any of the messages that you are trying to get out there.  I wish you success, I would wish you luck but we both know you already need as much luck as you can get to keep this flop blog on the up-side.

Meagan R., Ogden Utah”

I could spend allot of time with this e-mail but I’m making a choice not to since she seemed to have already answered all the questions she had. I will say one thing tho, I don’t know how or when people find my blog. Many times this blog (and my old ones) was found doing some form of internet search or referred by one of the four places I post links back to this blog. I have no control of who lands on my page or why they choose to come here. I always like to remind everyone that the choice to come here is yours and the choice not to be here is yours as well.  Just remember if you send me hate mail it just might end up being a publish post as you see above.

Look, I’m just here having fun my own way.