I’m currently sitting in a Bishop Arts coffee shop listening to some twang-singer explain to me how I should’ve seen it in color. I was under the impression that most of those people HATED color. Simple minded folks. White faces, white sheets, white hoods; all else, “run for your lives!”

• In the time it took me to write that paragraph (between sips of coffe), the radio has played Kid Rock and Fleetwood Mac; two more of my least favorite artists.

Part of me wants to drink my coffee and leave, but my morning destination is no better. I have a visit with the Walmartians scheduled.

My youngest grandson just turned one year old and he’s not the best walker in the world. I’m going to grab him something to assist his learning in hopes he will one day return the favor. I’ve instructed my family to put me out of my misery the moment I become an elderly burden. I can’t get them to agree, so I’ll just pay a total stranger to pull the trigger. Crackheads will do anything for $50. At least, they would’ve before the tariffs started. Does anyone know the current Crackhead tariff exchange rate?

Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon.