A toast to your wicked wishes.
In this order: Unless the Good Lord, my body, and a physician at which I’d be under his or her direct care inform me that I’ve got a terminal illness, at which time I’d be cognizant of my health status and the decision to share it, then any other versions of those particular circumstances might be from someone who wishes I was either dead and/or they were involved in a murder for hire plot to eliminate me. Therefore, I’ll be around a long time to observe your endeavors to pilfer from me or to approach me in good faith and stand on the principles of conscientious capitalism. It’s your choice.
Inset Photo By: Andrea Tummons on Unsplash
Header Photo By: Christina Langford Miller on Unsplash