May The Irs Find That You Deduct

Charlie Asher: Mrs. Ling, Is That Duck Wearing Trousers? Mrs. Ling: Could Be . . . . You Hear Of Paper-wrap Chicken? This Duck In Pants.

. . . And So Charlie Asher . . . Led An Army Of Fourteen-inch-tall Bundles Of Animal Bits, Armed With Everything From Knitting Needles To A Spork, Into The Storm Sewers Of San Fransciso.

She Was An Alien, Really - A Sort Of Eating, Pooping, Tantrum Machine - And He Didn't Understand Anything About Her Species.

One Day The Good Times Had To Keep On Rolling, And All Of Life's Horseshit Would Turn To Circuses.

Christmas Crept Into Pine Cove Like A Creeping Christmas Thing: Dragging Garland, Ribbon, And Sleigh Bells, Oozing Eggnog, Reeking Of Pine, And Threatening Festive Doom Like A Cold Sore Under The Mistletoe.