And As Always Seems To Happen When

I Rose To My Knees, Mouth Dry And Heart Pounding, And Paused To Finger A Rip In My Beautiful Dacron Bowling Shirt. I Pushed My Fingertip Through The Hole And Wiggled It At Myself. Hello, Dexter, Where Are You Going? Hello, Mr. Finger. I Don't Know, But I'm Almost There. I Hear My Friends Calling.

I'm A Very Neat Monster.

I Mean, Really: What Kind Of Person Could Possibly Dislike Me?

The Mind Picks Some Very Bad Times To Take A Walk Doesn't It?

They Like To Tell Us That It Is Important To Speak The Truth, But It Has Been My Experience That Real Happiness Lies In Having People Tell You What You Want To Believe, Usually Not The Same Thing At All, And If You Have To Stub Your Toe On The Truth Later, So Be It.