An epiphany, from watching partially mummified skeletal remains drive a Porche Boxster (top down no less, in wanton disregard for the very real risk that a necrotic ear or finger might break off in the wind to be lost forever alongside the road) down Veterans Boulevard this morning:
If youth is wasted on the young, then wealth must be wasted on the undead.
Humbly I remain,
B. Freret
If youth is wasted on the young, then wealth must be wasted on the undead.
Humbly I remain,
B. Freret
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