Could This Be The Apocalypse ?

When Faced With People Who Have Very Limited Conversational Skills And No Apparent Desire To Cultivate Any It's Always Easier To Simply Go Along.

I Sighed; As Comforting As It May Be To Some Of Us, Sarcasm, Like Youth, Is Wasted On The Young.

There Is A Simple, Logical Explanation,' I Said To Myself. And Because You Never Know Who Else Is Listening, I Added, 'and There Is Nothing Under The Bed.'" --dexter

But Of Course, There's No Rest For The Wicked, Which I Certainly Am; As I Said, No Rest For The Wicked.

It's That Moon Again, Slung So Fat And Low In The Tropical Night, Calling Out Across A Curdled Sky And Into The Quivering Ears Of That Dear Old Voice In The Shadows, The Dark Passenger, Nestled Snug In The Backseat Of The Dodge K-car Of Dexter's Hypothetical Soul. That Rascal Moon, That Loudmouthed Leering Lucifer, Calling Down Across The Empty Sky To The Dark Hearts Of The Night Monsters Below, Calling Them Away To Their Joyful Playgrounds.