Plan. Yes. Good Idea. I Should Come

You Can't Put Something Together Again Unless You've Torn It Apart First.

When I Say That Life Is Like An Onion, I Mean This: If You Don't Do Anything With It, It Goes Rotten. So Far, That's No Different From Other Vegetables. But When An Onion Goes Bad, It Can Either Do It From The Inside, Or The Outside. So Sometimes You See One That Looks Good, But The Core Is Rotten. Other Times, You Can See A Bad Spot On It, But If You Cut That Out, The Rest Is Fine. Tastes Sharp, But That's What You Paid For, Isn't It?

There Was A Sergeant At A Desk. I Knew He Was A Sergeant Because I Recognized The Marks On His Uniform, And I Knew It Was A Desk Because It's Always A Desk. There's Always Someone At A Desk, Except When It's A Table That Functions As A Desk. You Sit Behind A Desk, And Everyone Knows You're Supposed To Be There, And That You're Doing Something That Involves Your Brain. It's An Odd, Special Kind Of Importance. I Think Everyone Should Get A Desk; You Can Sit Behind It When You Feel Like You Don't Matter.

Staring Into The Dragon's Maw, One Quickly Learns Wisdom.

Plan. Yes. Good Idea. I Should Come Up With A Plan.