🎶 Our love turns to rust We’re beaten and blown by the wind Blown by the wind

Oh and I see love See our love turn to rust We’re beaten and blown by the wind Blown by the wind

Oh when I go there I go there with you It’s all I can do🎶

🎶 These streets Turn me inside out Everything shines But leaves me empty still And I’ll, burn this lonely house down If you run with me If you run with me

I’ll stay with you The walls will fall before we do 🎶

‪I’m a southern, white, CIS gendered, fifty-year old man. And I am NOT afraid of diversity, change, or living life without a gun. I am not afraid. ‬

Let’s play pretend: Suppose you have bought a glue trap because, you know, mice are warm-blooded mammals, and it’s kinda cold outside, so your garage/basement is a beacon of warmth.

Let’s also suppose that your boy just LOVES TO PLAY WITH STICKY STUFF, cause, you know sensory …

Can you picture it?

Nope, that’s just not sticky enough in enough crooks and crevices yet.

There ya go. NOW you’re getting it.

Forget soap.

Forget that wimpy baby oil.

Go straight for the full-fledged, FRY A WHOLE DANG CHICKEN VEGETABLE OIL. It comes in five gallon vats. You’re welcome.

This is my first microblog post. I think I’ll be transitioning to this over social media over the next few weeks.