From Gossipping Do-Gooders

“Get some self-respect and a day job.” That is what you wrote to me. Have you ever had self-respect after face planting in the dirt? No one in their wrong mind you hire us. Look at us! just look. Twilight urchins scraping our way across the stagnant stone city. Why should any denizen of the daylight community look at us, that is, unless they want to eat us in place of teatime crumpets. Civilized cannibals. Indeed, most honorable Mr. Darcy, savages dance quite well at masque balls attended in shadowy hours so their brighter alter egos escape the crimes committed in ritualistic rain dances when the god of lies is appeased and sends hurricanes of abysmal “truth” unto the happily living Nightshade Commoners. What is to be done for us who can’t ever find our way to the world of eloquence and false propriety, born into the pit of hell, our home where the cries of damned infants ring loud and clear through the night. There is no room for self-respect where wolves prowl streets both night and day.