Bill's Story: Chapter 2

So Trevor (my dog) kept me up last night. He kept barking at the corner of the room. My guess is he saw the invisible psycho clown that has been trying to get me for years. Dogs for some reason can always see invisible things. It's like a sixth sense. Except, I don't know if they only have five to begin with. I pretty sure Trevor has 15. One of them I now know is sensing invisible psycho clowns. Others are more obvious. Like knowing whether or not an animal or object is worth a hump. I bet you wish you had a dog named Trevor.

The new ELITE

For me, those who have the most money are not elite. Those who are old are not elite. Those who are physically attractive are not elite. To be elite one must make the most sense. That does not leave out those who are not as bright, and that does not leave out the smarties either. If you make more sense than most people, you're in.

Now here's the problem: What makes sense to me might not make any sense to you. To avoid this relativistic problem, I'm going to say what makes sense to me trumps your take. Always. I think it's a good assumption.

Here's another part of it: If you make sense to me on most things you're in. Total agreement is not attainable.

I wanted to make a list of the new elite, but I don't want to get any angry letters from people who do not want to be on it or vice versa, so I'll just throw out some initials, and you can just assume they are yours (PS - this is not an all-inclusive list):

SM, BC, MM, RM, JR, EJ, RS, RM, KM, PR, LM, JD, SN, MH, JM, CP, KM and IM