I recently decided that one of my goals in life, in terms of entertainment value, is to be better than cartoons. My sister told me the other day that my nephews think I am. They are ten and eleven.

The only problem with work is that it is too much like work.

When I arrived at the broken pip, after crawling several yards under my house in the mud, grumpily; the black widow spiders noted my ire and fled. So, I was able to fix the leak unharmed by neurotoxic venom.

The fact that I loved such an unconstant, self-centered, socio-path for ten years makes me really doubt my abilities to surround myself with good people.

In all fairness, I feel compelled to warn men that women, even on good days, are compulsively manipulative. We constantly take advantage of the fact that men are either unaware of this particular trait or are wonderfully forgetful.

We don't believe the nation is smothered with tainted Tylenol.

I use to look for a perfect job. Now I look for any job and make it perfect for me.

A male friend of mine recently told me that if he should so much as look at any women other than me, I was to club him in the head. Hard. He said it would save him some pain he was sure of it. Giving a woman the promise of permitted violence...difficult to pass that offer up.

"Some of my friends are like freckles. There's actually no explanation for my affection for them. Who knows of why or what use freckles are; yet, I kind of like mine and would miss them very much if they were gone.