I Don't Read The Sunday Papers; Or

I Don't Read The Sunday Papers; Or The Dailies, Either

I Try And Do 2,500 Words A Day, Every Day Of The Year

Love Is An Optical Illusion That Makes You Believe The Object Of Your Affection Is The Most Beautiful Person In The World.

Mostly I Sit At Home In The Evenings Watching The Box And Hoping That One Day I'll Evolve Into Plankton.

Descartes' Immortal Conclusion Cogito Ergo Sum Was Recently Subjected To Destruction Testing By A Group Of Graduate Researchers At Princeton Led By Professors Montjuic And Lauterbrunnen, And Now Reads, In The Shorter Harvard Orthodoxy: (a) I Think, Therefore I Am; Or (b) Perhaps I Thought, Therefore I Was; But (c) These Days, I Tend To Leave That Side Of Things To My Wife.