Imagine, if you will, walking in a salubrious green meadow. The sun is shining, a cool breeze plays delicately with your hair, you’re lost in the rich tapestry of nature; all is well. Then imagine you step into a what appears to be the largest, most vile pile of dung and putrefaction you’ve ever seen. . . . → Read More: Dead Wild Roses: Misogyny on Tap – Deconstructing A Demented Douche-Canoe.