I am a good person. I pay my taxes and vote responsibly and use those insufferably smug “This is Not a Plastic Bag” bags to haul my groceries about. I’m kind to animals (except the delicious sort) and I read stories to children every Saturday whether I’m hungover or not. Once I even helped a no-foolin’ old lady (Roky Erickson’s mom, as it turned out, how cool is that?) to cross the street!
So please explain to me WHY these can’t be my size?! HATEFUL.
Hmph. See if I swerve to miss children NOW.