You may use the expletive in place of steer manure if you see fit for the duration of this post. You’re welcome.
Ah, steer manure. I’m full of it. You’re full of it. Our family, friends, acquaintances and even our politics and religions are full of it. So much so, that sometimes, we feel like cranberry farmers wading through the cesspool of life just to find the good hidden in the bad.
I’m going to make this short today, because I’m in steer manure so deep my teeth are turning brown. What I would like to see is a rationing of said steer manure. Maybe a statute that states one must only use steer manure on holiday and while attending family reunions. Steer manure is best used during times when surrounded by throngs of people that you would like to impress, but do not see, or interact with on a daily basis. These “strangers” are less apt to see through the steer manure that steadily pours forth from you like a tapped keg because they do not know, nor do they care, that steer manure is your legal tender of choice.
Steer manure has a place in society; don’t get me wrong. We feed our children a steady diet of steer manure with tidbits like, “Because I said so,” and “When I was your age.” The latter is steer manure because there is no example included and weren’t we all taught to lead by example? The former is steer manure because, though you were once technically your child’s age, it was a completely different age and your point is irrelevant. But this pile of excrement is needed. Why? So that our children learn early that this world is unfair, biased and filled to the brim with monkeys collecting steer manure in their brain buckets. I will forever wish that my children do not have to deal with that fact, but it’s an eventuality that I will try and prepare them for.
In closing, I’m tired of steer manure and would like less of it. Period. The problem is, there’s so much of it, that people can’t help but spread it around.
I wash my hands of this crap.