It’s how blood tastes.
For those of you who have followed the migration habits of the dreaded skankopotmus, the beast has returned. Its timing, impeccable; its damage, unfathomable. And my count is telling me this is its fifth season. All that’s left to do is sit back and watch the drama unfold. I would say like a bad penny (yes…I know….mixed metaphors), but unless you live on the tracks or possess a pair of nice pliers, it’s a bit difficult to fold a penny. And before you list the million ways one can fold a penny, I meant without going on a Mythbusters quest. Maybe the drama can unfold like one of those playground paper games. “Pick a color….pick a number….pick a farm animal…pick a nose.” And then you get to know which of the random things inside will happen you you…oh look. Mine says I’ll be adopted by a roving band of pterodactyls as they try to find a cure for swine flu. (And who would have thought I’d be able to spell pterodactyls WITHOUT spellcheck? Miracles do happen.)