I Find It Next To Impossible To

I Can Choose To Accelerate My Disease To An Alcoholic Death Or Incurable Insanity, Or I Can Choose To Live Within My Thoroughly Human Condition.

I'd Stand In Line For Confession With Old People And Little Kids, And As The Line Moved Up And It Was Getting Closer To My Turn, I Knew That When I Got Into The Box I Would Lie! Again!

While I Am Rehearsing A Play, I Try To Read Nothing That Might Distract My Concentration From The Work In Progress.

Everything Edible Is Fried In Texas! Or It Is Buried In The Ground To Cook Before It Is Eaten. ... Texas Food Should Be Forbidden! 'the Steaks At Night Are Big And Bright, Deep In The Heart Of Texas!' And They Are Always Afloat In Grease. Next Morning You Are Served A Smaller Steak, Which Serves As A Platform For Two Fried Eggs ... All Of This Afloat In The Same Grease! 'chicken, You Say? You Bet! Comin' Up!' Same Grease! They Are Right. Comin' Up! For Hours Afterwards. I Couldn't Believe The Crust Of An Apple Pie! Same Grease!

With Two Leftover Husbands To Account For, My Wicked Soul Has Just About Shriveled And Died