I Don't Talk Things, Sir. I Talk

Men Throw Huge Shadows On The Lawn, Don't They? Then, All Their Lives, They Try To Run To Fit The Shadows. But The Shadows Are Always Longer.

Why Would You Clone People When You Can Go To Bed With Them And Make A Baby? C'mon, It's Stupid.

The Faster You Blurt, The More Swiftly You Write, The More Honest You Are.

And The Odd Think In Dad's Voice Was The Sound Truth Makes Being Said.

Remember, The Firemen Are Rarely Necessary. The Public Itself Stopped Reading Of Its Own Accord.