Before the woke mob comes after me, I’m calling myself out. I called someone a poopy head. Lots of someone’s I imagine. Just trying to hold my own as a girl on the mean streets. I may have only been five, but I knew it was important to stand my ground in my hood. It probably helped that I was always a head taller than anyone else, but no one messed with me. Kids today are soft. They have to be! Everything you do or say can come back to haunt you many years from now. Whatever we like to think life was like in the fifties, sixties, and seventies, it wasn’t. People are finding out that what was acceptable then is not now, and they are getting called out. I heard a funny story and it kind of sums it up. An island resort vacay spot was cooking chicken outside on big spits. Very delicious chicken I might add. Anyway, some parents complained that their children were horrified by seeing this. Yes, by seeing chicken cooked. Now they eat chicken, but did not know it had bones and were actually Chickens. (This is very hard to explain BTW). They were used to eating nuggets and boneless breasts, and somehow were being shielded from the truth or some weird thing. Can’t make this stuff up. Just goes to show that our culture is so obsessed with making the world seem much more user friendly then it really is. Toughen up already. I mean there’s more then one way to skin a cat. Or is there? Funny stuff. Guess I better not say that again. Tonight I’m going to make Himalayan possum soup. I know that sounds kind of gross, but I saw Himalayan on the road and didn’t want to just leave him there. Sorry about the bad pun but that’s just how eye roll poopy head.