Sorry. We can’t make it. Why, Flynn? This morning my incoming thought negotiated that our VERY presence would forebode Trump’s 2016 presidential loss. Later this afternoon, prior to eating lunch at home, Mom suggested that this was her thought, too. Plus, Dad plans to watch the NBA tonight. I awoke at 1730 from my two-hour mid-afternoon nap.
Last night, Mom rebuked unto moi. I made faces at her and she sanpped that I didn’t like Trump and that I should be real and not pretention. I tried to clarify that with her. But all she offered was a claim that she saw something in me, couldn’t bear to look at me, and had to cast her eyes downward. I suggested to her that my angry temper may be due to my other ‘spirit’.
A few days, I may have realized what is my assignment while stuck on this hellish planet. Though I may be difficult, full of anger and hatred against stupid and crazy humanz, my purpose is to test the perseverance of these humanz and how well they respond to frivolity.
I pose to y’all that being a geriatric caretaker is not easy. Old farts cannot change. This applies to all humanz who are NOT immune to some sort of disability.