A couple of god-guys were talking over a couple of cold ones, and the chillier of the two said, “Hey, you’ll enjoy this: a while back when I was running the ‘Day Of Reckoning’ for my little recently deceased creatures, as each one would step up I’d ask him his name, then look intently down into this big ole book I keep on my desk, I’d repeat the name several times, turn pages and doing some ‘hummm-ing’ noises, then finally look up at him, slowly turn my head side to side and gravely say, ‘You should’ve known, you should’ve known.’”


Graffiti on one neural wall:
“What curious notions
life plants in men’s minds
to picture progress.”


One guy lamented to his mirror, “Ohhh, I cannot tell you the number of times I have cried and suffered…well, sure I COULD, but you’d just walk away like everyone else.”


The tonic for all spells of disorientation is to simply remember that everyone lives on the planet they believe they live on.


(In case you never thunk about it):

Another reason speech’s
veracity is suspect
is that all words
are cousins.


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