Aye, Scotty! We'll miss you.

May God rest his soul.
H.

God, beam Scotty up, please.

I guess I got too personal talking about guys that wear white pants with dirty knees
or maybe it was that I said that death is having to tolerate an abusive creep;
and that I admit there are some of God's children that I don't like and that I don't think I ever will.

PS:

An Ode to Reprimand

With reprimand so near,
it is really quite unclear,
as those offended begin to sear
at the insults of a brazen peer;
they can no longer smile but leer
as they ask,"why is he still here?"

TR