Wherein I argue that sitting in a tub, stewing in your own filth in the town square, holding a lantern, looking for an honest man, isn’t the virtuous criticism of society that you think it is.

Spoiler: I’m describing the alleged origins of Cynicism.

Yes, dogs are the best, you will never be as pure as a dog and Charlie’s Taco Shop creates far more happiness than your tub stunt.

Aka you aren’t superior to actual doers, builders & those who stick their necks out.

Please chill the fuck out.

No refunds.