When I Look At A Lot Of

Cover Your Glass In France Or Germany --even Worse, In England - And In The Voice Of Someone Who Has Personally Affronted, Your Host Will Ask Why You're Not Drinking. 'oh, I Just Don't Feel Like It This Morning.' 'why Not?' 'i Guess I'm Not In The Mood?' 'well, This'll Put You In The Mood. Here. Drink Up.' 'no, Really, I'm Ok.' 'just Taste It.' 'actually, I'm Sort Of...well, I Sort Of Have A Problem With It.' 'then How About Half A Glass?

Sometimes You Read Something And It's Just -- It Doesn't Invite A Reader....sometimes You Read Something And It's Not Saying, 'oh Come In, Come In Have A Seat. I'm Going To Tell You What Happened.' Perhaps My Writing Comes Off As Conversational...and That Takes Effort.

Every So Often My Life Will Feel Like A Story. It Doesn't Have To Be A Big Thing; In Fact, Most Often, It's Just The Opposite.

When Her Muzzle Grew More White Than Brown, The Chipmunk Forgot That She And The Squirrel Had Had Nothing To Talk About. She Forgot The Definition Of "jazz" As Well And Came To Think Of It As Every Beautiful Thing She Had Ever Failed To Appreciate: The Taste Of Warm Rain; The Smell Of A Baby; The Din Of A Swollen River, Rushing Past Her Tree And Onward To Infinity.

People Ask Me, 'have You Ever Considered Doing Stand-up?' To Me It Would Be Less Offensive If Someone Asked Me, 'have You Ever Considered Dental Implants?'