The Will to Resist

WMD, Continued?


Sharpening Iron on Iron


Dept. of Petty Affairs – Final Entry

Sometimes life’s a forge. Sometimes it’s just two butter knives scraping each other until sparks fly and the neighbors call the HOA. Either way—“sharpening iron on iron, huh.”


🦝 Jerry “The Ankle Biter” Silverhand

“Sounds noble until you realize most folks are just aluminum foil trying to cosplay as steel. I’m over here with a rusty nail and still cutting deeper than them.”


🐾 Mrs. Catford

“Iron? Please. Half these people squeal like tin cans when you press them. Graceful sparks are for swords—petty sparks are for entertainment.”


🐾 Mr. Catford

“True sharpening is silent. No noise, no drama. Just steel becoming sharper steel. Everything else? Kitchen utensils clanging for attention.”


🤡 The Clown

Half laughing, half wheezing

“Hahhh—two clowns sharpening iron… but it’s just their egos clinking! HONK! HONK!—ohhh, I can’t breathe.”


Moral Graffiti on the Wall: Sometimes you forge greatness. Sometimes you just make noise. Either way—keep the egg handy, in case someone swerves into your lane. 🥚


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