Where do all the old dictators go? Who listens to them as they feebly fight off the forced spoon fed stewed prunes with cries of "No negotiating!"
I think I found the place of their golden sunsets.
And, yes, grandpa, you did have quite a brutal, oppressive regime. Now eat your prunes.
Glory Days, my post today at Aiming Low. Where we set the bar just high enough for you to step over.