Signs of the Times (Is There a Sign for “Oh, Shit Balls!”?)

Twenty-two signs that the gossamer veneer of civilization continues to tear before our entertainment-addled, porn-saturated eyes. All twenty-two are zinging manifestations of only two or three broader categories, but the number reveals a whimsical variety to Original Sin. #3 and #14 trouble me the most.

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About Bourbon Apocalypse: A Whiskey Son of Sorrow

"If you can't annoy somebody, there's little point in writing." ~ Kingsley Amis
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