I’m on the planet to help. No other reason – I don’t get one. I get a job, or move to a neighborhood, and it’s to rescue a cat or run the blockwatch. I don’t know how many people I’ve launched into writing, art, and publishing their own work. And I can’t help it – you can hate my guts, but if you come to me for help or advice, I’ll help and give good advice (not my fault if some of you don’t take it).
Now it’s Veterans I’m supposed to help. WTF?
Not any old Vets – Vietnam era combat vets. Oh, great. You’d think people who could swing a mini-gun over a village could take care of themselves, but war fucks everybody up. But it’s not THEM I’m really supposed to help, as give them the time’s voice back, to help this country backpeddle out of the…
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