I was onto the Mayans at least 15 years ago, and that was probably before a shitload of other people were, said term of venery to include this entrepreneur. (I have about as much faith in their community as I do the ark of rich folks who we were supposed to get behind at the end of that execrable movie.) My 15-year-older self, said term of maturity to include this descendant, may have more reason for hope but still concedes things gotta give, though I’m also now more inclined to believe that their calendar was only this long because the idea never struck them for the business of selling a new one every 12 months. Maybe they never grew tired of Miss June.
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