No shirt pants, no shoes hat, no service bull run.

I'll check back in when you brutes have something on your heads, and covering your genitals.

Pft. All salience, no hat.

I don't recognize February either. Cheap knock-off month. 

We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of hats. You ask, what is our policy?

No idea what you're on about. I just come here for the hats.

He's fine. He's right where I left him. Wrapped in plastic.

Now, can we please stay on topic.

I'm trying to think!

People seem confused and disorientated. Like they just got hit on the head with a hammer, while wearing a hat, before eating it.

Would you tell Henry Ford to stop assembly line producing anti-semetic personal automobiles?


Of course not.

Living off the fat of the land is a niche hustle. Don't forget to ladder your approaches.

*Rosewater throws the ceremonial mallet*

I hit the emerald city once. Forgot to get off the bus. What can you do?

There ain't no such thing as a free hat. This will end doomily. Wait for it.

*Having nailed the sentiment of the world, Rosewater hands Hairy the sacred hammer*

If Henry Ford was alive I'd wrap him in plastic and throw him at your head.

Maybe you should try biting us sideways first. You might like it.

Anyway, it isn't optional. 

Suspect nothing.

If is the middle word in life. This is what the world of silver stackers must feel like. You blow smoke up my ass, I blow it up yours.

Meanwhile, shiny things.

Marcus started a club of paranoid old coots that can't see the forest for the trees. Membership has it's rewards.

Wall street is in complete control of the Bitcoin market. Pass it on.

*grrrr*