Thursday! What a concept!
Back up! I'm about to bust up; dropping words, shifting verbs, and news that disturbs. A slow hand cat on the keyboard in a chair, old underwear, greasy hair while his momma rings the bell and yells down the stairs. "It's breakfast time!" Oh goody, bits and vittles, Ginter serves you a meal with a side of truth and minimal spittle.
Chase your tail around for the better part of a week, pencil-necked geeks and freaks wanting meat: well here it is friends, skim it real quick so you can start commenting "he's trash" again.