Serious Fantasy: The Institute for the Indentured Educated Class
There is this big, somewhat ugly house next to where I am currently living. It has been stripped clean, and the owners have been gone for well over a year. It's a foreclosure. The bank tends to mow it at the last minute, so it's this hideous eye sore in a nice, tidy neighborhood. Every time I walk by it with my dogs, I get really pissed. I have thought about leaving my dogs' shit in the yard, but then I realize that that would be utterly rude to the poor guys who must mow the yard each month. So, I pick up my dogs' shit and curse the bank that owns it. Then I curse a bunch of other banks, as well as politicians . . . by the time I get back home, I am seething. So . . . here's something I'd like to do with that house.
I'd like to buy it, fix it up, and turn it into . . . The Institute for the Indentured Educated Class. Wouldn't that
I'd like to buy it, fix it up, and turn it into . . . The Institute for the Indentured Educated Class. Wouldn't that
