When You're Unhappy, I Guess Everything In

Look At All The Things That Can Go Wrong For Men. There’s The Nothing-happening-at-all Problem, The Too-much-happening-too-soon Problem, The Dismal-droop-after-a-promising-beginning Problem; There’s The Size-doesn’t-matter-except-in-my-case Problem, The Failing-to-deliver-the-goods Problem…and What Do Women Have To Worry About? A Handful Of Cellulite? Join The Club. A Spot Of I-wonder-how-i-rank? Ditto.

The Unhappiest People I Know, Romantically Speaking, Are The Ones Who Like Pop Music The Most; And I Don't Know Whether Pop Music Has Caused This Unhappiness, But I Do Know That They've Been Listening To The Sad Songs Longer Than They've Been Living The Unhappy Lives.

I'm A Good Person. In Most Ways. But I'm Beginning To Think That Being A Good Person In Most Ways Doesn't Count For Anything Very Much, If You're A Bad Person In One Way.

That Was His Mother. When She Wasn't Crying Over The Breakfast Cereal, She Was Laughing About Killing Herself.

I'm Coming To London Next Week, By The Way, In Unhappy Circumstances. Are We Getting On Fine As We Are? Or Would You Like A Drink?