Since Cedar has taken a few lumps lately by a few people with axes to grind, allow me to rebut:
Cedar, we still love you. You're our favorite thickheaded butch that's not already me. We would let you sleep in the middle. If you were our neighbor we'd look at your disgusting wound for you and run your labs and check your eyes and never ask for anything in return except the opportunity to emotionally blackmail you for it later. Either one of us would have your baby, you know...if we weren't all girls, and old and stuff. But otherwise you'd be our first choice for our baby's daddy.
Don't listen those mean kids on the playground. There's a reason they've risen to the top of the mean kid heap. It's because, well...they're mean. They've made "mean" their life's work. They've embraced their meanness with the kind of dedication Mother Theresa had for her work with the poor, or like Hitler had for extermination.
Like the tides, you can't control the mean. All you can do is fill in the beach with toxic waste and build a New Jersey suburb on it. Maybe call it Cedarville or Cedardale or something. And build hideously overpriced McMansions that silly, pretentious people would flock to buy with the money the got from gouging nice people with their junk bonds and real estate scams, or raiding their pension plans and buying $1000 shower curtains for their mistresses.
It's the circle of mean.
Now climb up on Lori's lap and let her pet your head. And let's see that wound again.
Cedar, we still love you. You're our favorite thickheaded butch that's not already me. We would let you sleep in the middle. If you were our neighbor we'd look at your disgusting wound for you and run your labs and check your eyes and never ask for anything in return except the opportunity to emotionally blackmail you for it later. Either one of us would have your baby, you know...if we weren't all girls, and old and stuff. But otherwise you'd be our first choice for our baby's daddy.
Don't listen those mean kids on the playground. There's a reason they've risen to the top of the mean kid heap. It's because, well...they're mean. They've made "mean" their life's work. They've embraced their meanness with the kind of dedication Mother Theresa had for her work with the poor, or like Hitler had for extermination.
Like the tides, you can't control the mean. All you can do is fill in the beach with toxic waste and build a New Jersey suburb on it. Maybe call it Cedarville or Cedardale or something. And build hideously overpriced McMansions that silly, pretentious people would flock to buy with the money the got from gouging nice people with their junk bonds and real estate scams, or raiding their pension plans and buying $1000 shower curtains for their mistresses.
It's the circle of mean.
Now climb up on Lori's lap and let her pet your head. And let's see that wound again.
