I'm On A Diet As My Skin

When Humor Go's, There Go's Civilization.

If Compliments Were Food, I'd Have Starved To Death 28 Years Ago.

You Become About As Exciting As Your Food Blender. The Kids Come In, Look You In The Eye, And Ask If Anybody's Home.

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.

I Read One Psychologist's Theory That Said, "never Strike A Child In Your Anger." When Could I Strike Him? When He Is Kissing Me On My Birthday? When He's Recuperating From Measles? Do I Slap The Bible Out Of His Hand On Sunday?