I Scrape the Bottom of the Barrel

It seems that I am not posting often enough. I haven't anything to say. My pith went limp, and all the spirits of camphor in Columbus won't revive it. I need an angle, an edge. While we're waiting for that fantasy to materialize, I suppose I could say a few words about a fox hunting ban. I think I speak for most Americans when I put down my fork and shriek, "You dress up, release beagles, mount horses, chase a fox all over tarnation, drink liquor from flasks, and address each other with english accents, though not necessarily in that order? And you are rich, or aspiring? WHAT KIND OF PUCKERED BRUTE WOULD BAN THAT?!?!?" Apparently, that isn't the way the English see it. Chilling. I guess that's why America doesn't rule England anymore.