We Deny That It Is Fun To

Drinking Is Bad Taste But Tastes Good.

Nobody Can Write Such Ironic Things Unless He Has A Deep Sense Of Injustice-injustice To Those Members Of The Race Who Are Victims Of The Stupid, The Pretentious And The Hypocritical.

Prohibition Is An Awful Flop. We Like It. It Can't Stop What It's Meant To Stop. We Like It. It's Left A Trail Of Graft And Slime It Don't Prohibit Worth A Dime It's Filled Our Land With Vice And Crime, Nevertheless, We're For It.

The Rich Man Has His Motorcar, His Country And His Town Estate, He Smokes A Fifty-cent Cigar And Jeers At Fate. He Frivols Through The Livelong Day, He Knows Not Poverty, Her Pinch. His Lot Seems Light, His Heart Seems Gay; He Has A Cinch. Yet Though My Lamp Burns Low And Dim, Though I Must Slave For Livelihood- Think You That I Would Change With Him? You Bet I Would!

These Are The Saddest Of Possible Words, Tinker-to-evers-to-chance. Trio Of Bear Cubs Fleeter Than Birds, Tinker-to-evers-to-chance. Ruthlessly Pricking Our Gonfalon Bubble, Making A Giant Hit Into A Double, Words That Are Weighty With Nothing But Trouble, Tinker-to-evers-to-chance. This Brief Poem, Immortalized The Chicago Cubs' Double-play Combination: Shortstop Joe Tinker, Second Baseman Johnny Evers, And First Baseman Frank Chance.