Can't a body rely on the kindness of strangers anymore? In short, no. People hate to be assaulted with the obligation to feel pity or help someone desperate. Having to provide fainting couches for people is a pain. The harder you clutch at the fishy solution the more it squirms out of your grasp. See, there is the Italian idea of sprezzatura, never let them see you sweat. Success is often a self-fulfilling prophecy.

In the interest of science we thus present to you our PR failures. Each one of these babies was birf'd in the heat of an oppressively humid Southern summer night of the mind, when the florid moisture in the air hung like a rug on your back and to shake it off you might entertain gambits (in the second person no less) far more desperate than even those you had originally envisioned as last resorts. Some people just won't salute what you run up their flagpole no matter how many times you use that double entendre in the hopes of subliminally stimulating them sexually. You can stroke them, roast them, boast, chide, bold face brag, or out and out beg them, but no matter how many times you try it just won't produce the desired result despite you being so darn beguiling. So why not publically shame them? Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose, quote the heroin casualty. In auto racing, not every swing at the ball produces a touchdown.

Trumpocalypse Not by Kevin Salveson