I've tried hard to overcome some of the less-than-worthy residual effects of my breeding and upbringing. I come from dirt farmers in southern Colorado. They settled things outside. They were people who believed strongly in slugging out their differences and then having a friendly beer together afterwards.
I've never liked that kind of fighting, even though I've felt obliged to indulge in it on a few occasions in my 72 years. It just never made any real sense to me. I hit him and my hand hurts - he hits me and my face hurts. You feel bad scared going in, and bad sorry coming out - what's the fuckin' point in any of that? Let's just skip to the place where we're having that friendly beer together.
So I've worked on not letting myself slide back into the mindset that it's just something you do sometimes.
But.
If I ever come across any of these Epstein Class pricks, they're going to sleep.
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