(A sad, City commentary on this and any other time): A sensitive fighter says that he could’ve been a contender – even been champ – if only he could’ve found gloves in a color that coordinated more fashionably with his trunks.
It’s a long way,
but a short trip,
from here to
There was this one little planet so poor and backwards, that the only myth they could afford told of a guy who was once offered the chance to write his life story, and declined. (And the Invisible Greek Chorus, sans masks and performing in English, intoned, “How sad, dear brethren, how bloody, floggin’ sad. Hummm.”
In the supermarket of ideas,
brand loyalty must remain
a matter for experts.
At a recent reception, in lieu of a business card, this chap handed me this statement, “Possessions are a disease, and greed is my physician.”