Why? I frequently find myself asking about the things I see on my daily walk.
Take this little plastic bag, for instance. It’s all tied up in a neat little knot, and a fresh one can be found on my upscale neighbor’s stoop every so often.
At first glance, it’s innocent enough. But for someone like me who questions everything, light turns dark upon further investigation.
Because that innocence is really a bag of sh*t. Yeah, you know what letter that asterisk represents. Who would do such a thing? And why? And so regularly?
(And yes, this is supposed to be a humorous look at the dark side of life.)