Education and the word on the street

In my street confrontation with my neighborhood friend, my friend bitched about how his wife, a teacher, was forced to work well into the night, usually in the basement while he slept.

He mentioned that all the Flowery Branch elite had fled the public schools leaving these kids that don't even know their daddies. He repeated that at least twice, These kids don't even know their daddies.

His suggestion? If we hear anyone talk about becoming a teacher, Beat them with a club. If they get up, beat them again. Keep beating them until they no longer want to be teachers.

Sounds like he wants to beat his wife, eh?

Trump kills Big Bird. Cuts the legs off Kermit. Eats Ms. Piggy's bacon for breakfast.

Today, at 3.13 am, Trump killed the last of an endangered species, Big Bird. The bird went quietly. The last gasps too quiet to be heard over the roars of the crowds. Like any good New York City contract hit, the body and the blood on the street lasted longer than the funeral. Or, the unfulfilled promises offered only in youth.

Like all children, Big Bird started with ambitious thoughts of perspective parents that their child would be special. But, the long neck of the awkward big could not support parental ambitions. And, Trump gave the graceful shot of mercy using the all powerful pen and the smallest hands.

The new regimes spouting in the many States, denied the family any public ceremony by turning the fresh carcass over to private dogs. The fight for the last bone will be hidden from public and prying eyes.

We expect a New York chef soon will fry frog legs one evening with a nice Chianti and beans or prepare a formal Sunday brunch with bacon strips freshly hand sliced from world famous pork belly.

What appetite. Let it be satiated soon.