Fuel for Thought

Flummoxed

Ever notice when some flibbertigibbet is so full of malarkey and the kerfuffle that this persnickety dingleberry brings with them over some doohickey or thingamajig, that it just leaves you so flabbergasted that this whippersnapper would espouse such poppycock? It can leave you so gobsmacked over the brouhaha from this nincompoop’s shenanigans, that it leads you to believe he is the epitome of codswallop. Feeling completely discombobulated, you just have to skedaddle from the gobbledygook.

For those with a propensity to interject their proboscis into the proximity of my obligations, I am formally requesting your acknowledgement to hereafter cease and desist. I will not acquiesce, and you should refrain from future encroachments of the aforementioned nostrils.  

Sometimes the truck stop lunch counter is no place to eat a meal.

See you down the road,

Greg