Some days, opening up the newspaper in Bermtopia is like plunging head first into an episode of "Duck Dynasty." Take, for example, a couple of yesterday's headlines in our esteemed daily newspaper:
This is diabolical on so many levels. Salvaged roadkill? Really? And a permit is required? Really? And you can't give salvaged roadkill to anybody else, sell it or use it for bait or pet food. REALLY?
And here's the kicker: You. have. to. clean. up. all. the. guts. All. of. them.
Road kill. It's what's for dinner.
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I nearly lost my Post Toasties on this one: Lice-sucking vacuum cleaners and a hair stylist who has dedicated her life to nit-picking. Literally. There must be an easier way to make a buck.
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On to my morning walk with Ben. Right into the "Twilight Zone."
Let's put this context, shall we?
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| The ultimate sidewalk sale. |
Do you think they'd throw in the pile of dirt with a full-price offer?
