Age Is Just A Number, Not A

They Say A Story Loses Something With Each Telling.

Yesterday Was A Closed Book, Tomorrow, However, Was Another Story.

Our Life Is Made Up Of Time; Our Days Are Measured In Hours, Our Pay Measured By Those Hours, Our Knowledge Is Measured By Years. We Grab A Few Quick Minutes In Our Busy Day To Have A Coffee Break. We Rush Back To Our Desks, We Watch The Clock, We Live By Appointments. And Yet Your Time Eventually Runs Out And You Wonder In Your Heart Of Hearts If Those Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Days, Weeks, Months, Years And Decades Were Being Spent The Best Way They Possibly Could. In Other Words, If You Could Change Anything, Would You?

It's Funny How People Mark Their Lives, The Benchmarks They Choose To Decide When The Moment Is More Of A Moment Than Any Other. For Life Is Made Of Them. I Like To Think The Best Ones Of All Are In My Mind, That They Run Through My Blood In Their Own Memory Bank For No One Else But Me To See.

I Don't Know Why Men Like To Barbecue So Much. Maybe Its The Only Thing They Can Cook. Or Maybe They're Just Closet Pyromaniacs.