Bloom where you’re planted

I drive by a church every day that always has inspirational posts like the one in the headline.

It’s almost as good as Harry’s Banana Farm, which usually pokes fun at local politicians. Now that Shit for Brains (SFB) has gone from local yokel to “45” (since I can’t say or type his name without retching), he’s fair game.

Apparently living down here means having something to protest every weekend, since SFB insists on dragging his wife out of New York and coming here to their resort and conducting national business IN PUBLIC. Sigh.

I wish they could ship me up to D.C. for the weekend, since I’d feel safer going into it without him there.

I’m blooming, all right. Surrounded by blooming idiots where I’m planted.

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