Who Could Have Possibly Foreseen an Ashley Judd Essay at this Juncture?
Mark my words: at Naomi Judd’s open-casket globally broadcast funeral there will be 12 Geese-a-laying, a minor cartel hit, medieval mummers identifying as Post-Structuralist origami artists, dill pickles, Norwegian sailors debating how to best bake a capybara, half a tennis ball, three county-approved tickle fights, the widow of a legless flamenco legend, a mysterious postcard, the extra box of wigs from that storage unit Uncle Cactus rented, and Fentanyl.
Also, there shall be navigating, delving, encountering, processing, rebirthing of prior analogues, entering, draining of unexpected reservoirs, primal grunting, immediate accessorizing of certainties, and rectification. Heaps of that last one.
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