Finding Fossil Fuels In The Bottom Of Your Heart

I stole a bracelet from my nephew. It’s one of those rubber bracelets that make people imagine you’re supporting a cause. You are. You’re wearing a bracelet. Which means that rubber loop is wrapped around your wrist instead of the neck of your local dolphin. <img alt="" src="https://miro.medium.com/v2/resize:fit:700/1*qaZs3FaqqduwFcTRdCtk0Q.jpeg" style="height:491px; width:700px" /> by author On my bracelet, there are dinosaurs. Nine dinosaurs on parade. So, I guess you know the truth by now: I’m pro-dinosaur. Why? Because life’s too short not to be what you are. When I march into bars and catch people running down dinosaurs, saying things like, “Let’s make this an anti-dinosaur bar,” I order the biggest beer. I drink it using my most muscly arm, the “major arm,” which is for luring love makers — I glaze it in shine and flourish it in public places — and sometimes the arm is for intimidation work. I lift the big beer with Major and guess what’s clearly visible? <a href="https://danielwilliams737.medium.com/finding-fossil-fuels-in-the-bottom-of-your-heart-80b69096e8e">Click Here</a>