@Volunteer,
"Was this the truth? If so, you have a lot to be thankful for. You have an honest job, you have a wife (I assume that is what you mean by mama) who, seems to love you enough to "play" with you, and you have time, resources, and intellectual space to dream up macho comments and send them into cyber-space, pound back a few pearls (beers?), and eat a favorite dinner. You sound like a solid citizen."
Thank you. I appreciate your appreciation for
chit shovellers. We don't get much of that, you know, especially down here in Louisiana, thanks to what
General Patton said to his troops about us, which was quoted in the famous movie about him. But yes, I shovel chit in Louisiana. I shovel tons of it --
hog chit to be exact -- from pig-pens into large vats, where it's distilled into methane fuel cells. I've done this all my life, coming from a long line of hog-chit shovellers in my family.
The chit is me. I breathe it, touch it, stare at it, and sometimes even talk to it. Often, when I don't get all of it out from under my fingernails, I even
eat it. But, it's all good.
I AM THE CHIT, as they say.
But remember this -- some of the energy you used while pulling off heroic acts might have come from my hog-chit energy cells. :headbang: