If I Raised My Hand To Wipe

I Never Go To A College Reunion That I Don't Come Away Feeling Sorry For All Those Paunchy, Balding Jocks Trying To Hang Onto Youth. I Feel Sorry For The Men, Too.

Limousines Used To Be Reserved For The Ruling Class, Or, On Special Occasions, For The Working Class. Today, Limousines Are Like Taxicabs With The Door Handles Still Intact.

You Have To Love A Nation That Celebrates Its Independence Every July 4, Not With A Parade Of Guns, Tanks, And Soldiers Who File By The White House In A Show Of Strength And Muscle, But With Family Picnics Where Kids Throw Frisbees, The Potato Salad Gets Iffy, And The Flies Die From Happiness. You May Think You Have Overeaten, But It Is Patriotism.

Enter My First Neighbor - A Woman Who Spoke In Complete, Coherent Sentences, Who Ate With A Knife And Fork And Who Only Cried At Weddings. I Couldn't Help Myself. In A Dramatic Gesture, I Bolted The Door And Threw My Body Across It To Prevent Her Exit. She Understood.

When Humor Goes, There Goes Civilization.