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Originally Posted by Flint
My name is Flint. A stone which fractures at sharp angles, producing arrow-heads (my true namesake). Flint is a strong, sharp, and useful stone. Flint produces the spark to ignite a flame, to combust an incendiary, to facilitate the light to illuminate your path. My tartan is Welsh National. My eyes shoot daggers, my mind splits hairs, and my hands speak drum. I walk straight down the path of the unknown, tempting fate with every step I take. I fear not, because I know that I am Flint.
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You also run out at the most inopportune times and force me to throw away a perfectly good, half full lighter. 
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The descent of man ~ Nixon, Friedman, Reagan, Trump.
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