I'll Come And Make Love To You

I Have Three Phobias Which, Could I Mute Them, Would Make My Life As Slick As A Sonnet, But As Dull As Ditch Water: I Hate To Go To Bed, I Hate To Get Up, And I Hate To Be Alone.

My Progress Reminded Me Of The Horses In The Whip. They Raced At The Limit Of Their Speed Directly Toward The Audience. But They Raced On A Treadmill Which Canceled Out Their Progress.

If I Were Well Behaved, I'd Die Of Boredom.

[to The Man Who Came Up To Her At A Party And Exclaimed Effusively, 'tallulah! I Haven't Seen You For 41 Years!':] I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car.

Drink Reacts On Its Practitioners In Conflicting Ways. One Brave Can Knock Off A Quart Of Scotch And Look And Act As Sober As Herbert Hoover. Another, After Three Martinis, Makes Two-cushion Carroms Off The Chaise Lounge As He Attempts To Negotiate The Bathroom.