This morning it happened to be new words for “Feelings” by Morris Albert.
Scumbags… nothing more than scumbags… trying to pick up after… the scumbags in the park.
We always seem to pick up a lot of trash on Monday mornings. I can’t for the life of me figure out how somebody can be like… “Oh, I’m done with this, I’ll just drop it here.” Or why someone would think the crown of a tree is a good place to stuff a used plastic cup. Or that flinging an empty bottle into the woods is a good idea. But it makes me feel good after I’m done cleaning up, being able to leave the world a little bit better than I found it.