Quoting myself just to rub it in. 
You know, the brain-damaged primitive's best chum (along with the cbayer primitive), Skippy from New York City, pisses me off big time. There was no call for him to make that stupid remark. I'm thinking about "marketing" him for a spot in the Top DUmmies of 2013.
It's very difficult to find something good or decent or pleasant in a primitive--about as futile as prospecting for gold in the Sandhills of Nebraska--but once in a while, one
does come across a faint, almost indistinct, clue that suggests a primitive isn't all bad.
And so one rejoices; one's found a primitive not utterly void of humanity.
But such joy is short-lived, because then the primitive turns around and shows his primitivity again.
About two, three, months ago, Skippy posted a photograph on Skins's island, he comforting his dying father. It was a very compelling, evocative, photograph, evocative even for those of us who never had parents living long enough to become ancient; whose parents died when we were teenagers.
It was a wonderful photograph, and so awesomely powerful, a middle-aged guy consoling his ancient paternal ancestor.
So I began thinking maybe Skippy wasn't all bad. Mostly bad, but not
all bad.
And then Skippy turns around and says this shit.
