Earth Is A Homicide Victim. We Lose

And The Sad Truth Is That Nobody Wants Me To Write Comedy. The Exorcist Not Only Ended That Career, It Expunged All Memory Of Its Existence.

Your Thoughts Are Too Dull To Entertain.

We Mourn The Blossoms Of May Because They Are To Whither; But We Know That May Is One Day To Have Its Revenge Upon November, By The Revolution Of That Solemn Circle Which Never Stops - Which Teaches Us In Our Height Of Hope, Ever To Be Sober, And In Our Depth Of Desolation, Never To Despair.

Would You Like To Hear A Nice Definition Of Jealousy? It's The Feeling That You Get When Someone You Absolutely Detest Is Having A Wonderful Time Without You.

I Lived In Georgetown In The Late 70s About Four Houses Down From The Steps.