I Had Written Eight Drafts Of The

I’m Reminded Of A Book My Father Used To Read Me,” She Said. “a Bunch Of Elves And Things Get Into A Huge War Over A Piece Of Jewelry That Everybody Wants But Nobody Can Wear.

And A Refrigerator May Hold A Basket Of Strawberries, Which Would Be Important If A Maniac Said To You, "if You Don't Give Me A Basket Of Strawberries Right Now, I'm Going To Poke You With This Large Stick." But When The Two Elder Baudelaires And Quigley Quagmire Opened The Refrigerator, They Found Nothing That Would Help Someone Who Was Wounded, Dying Of Thirst, Or Being Threatened By A Strawberry-crazed, Stick-carrying Maniac.

They Say Love's Like A Bus, And If You Wait Long Enough Another One Will Come Along, But Not In This Place Where The Buses Are Slow And Most Of The Cute Ones Are Gay.

We Are Respecting Our Parents' Wishes....they Didn't Want To Shelter Us From The World's Treacheries. They Wanted Us To Survive Them.

A Man Of My Acquaintance Once Wrote A Poem Called "the Road Less Traveled", Describing A Journey He Took Through The Woods Along A Path Most Travelers Never Used. The Poet Found That The Road Less Traveled Was Peaceful But Quite Lonely, And He Was Probably A Bit Nervous As He Went Along, Because If Anything Happened On The Road Less Traveled, The Other Travelers Would Be On The Road More Frequently Traveled And So Couldn't Hear Him As He Cried For Help. Sure Enough, That Poet Is Dead.