One man reasoned that if he had synonyms for everything he thought,  he’d have more to think about; (as is so often the case in a polarized galaxy – it didn’t “QUITE” work that way.)


One chap inquired, “If both poverty and excesses are insults, what shall one wear to the Beggar’s Ball?”  (His half-brother later suggested a little off-the-shoulder-irony.)


In his dismissal regarding concerns of an after-life, the shoe salesman said, “Since even pickles sour with age, what chance has a bozo like me got?”


This other guy says he ultimately discovered that, “If your hormones don’t care, YOU don’t care.”  (Three weeks later he wrote and,  perhaps theoretically, asked, “I don’t suppose I could personally learn anything from this otherwise pretty perfunctory transpiration?”)


Parents are born into their positions,
it is only the children who must
LOOK for work.


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