One father incessantly pestered a son:
“Don’t you get it?!  Come on, really!  –  don’t you get it!?”
He kept this up day after day, month after month, year after year until the lad suddenly saw-the-light, and understood the purpose of the elder’s relentless badgering –
and realized that he was never going to get it.
The answer to the certain-few’s singular question consists of:
finally understanding the question.
   (“That doesn’t sound right to me!”
          Well said sir, it ain't right      --       it simply can't be     --       now can it!?)
 
 
 
 

“Okay!” barked the Sarge, “You recruits pick up all that loose info and loitering incongruities; toss ‘em here in a pile and we’ll let the Lieutenant sort it all out later.”
Related Regal Postulate.
The King don’t take no crap ‘cause the King IS crap.
 
 
 
 

Hormones Continue To Dominate In Some Men’s Thinking.
When he heard the proverb:
“There is nothing the body can suffer that the soul may not profit from,”
a man pondered: “What a shame it doesn’t go the other way around  –
then we’d have something worth proverbin’ about.”
   (“All right, tell me this: how can hormones not dominate!?”
If you have to ask, then you're correct.)
 
 
 
 

On some days one man’s speech would express only emotions,
while on alternate days it would only convey information;
he prosecuted this plan with fidelity and vigor   –
yet no one ever noticed what he was doing.
   (“Pa pa, is that how our planet got its name?”)
 
 
 
 

Exclaimed one chap: “I never feel more alive than when I'm ill,”
and someone who heard this mused: “Imagine how excited he’ll be when he dies.”
 
 
 
 

Question: “Say! –  Where’s it written that you have to be ordinary?”
Answer: “Why in the Great Ordinary Book of course.”
Fill In The Blank: “Nothing is more natural to a cow than______________.”
 
 
 
 

One man says that in his younger days one of his joys was singing-to-his-self
(that is until he finally realized he was tone deaf.
    [“Luke, how many folks you figure ever even get that far in their realizin’?”])
One warthog explains that his entire life changed when he finally saw his reflection –  and then knew for his self, how he looked.
   (“Son, even if you presently don’t know all the answers, know this:
     ‘absurdity’ is the actual name of all the pressing mortal questions.”
Noted a King: “If I was interested in anything serious,
I'd be reading about weapons of death  --  and not about man’s spiritual life.”)
 
 
 
 

One kid told a playmate that the most memorable advice he ever received
from his father was: “Don’t count your chickens.”
   (“Is this one of those stories that are supposed to highlight some feature of how
       neurons operate?”)
 
 
 

Said a father to a son:
“What you need for your undertaking (if you can properly translate my words)
is to be hard-headed and pliable-minded.”
 
 
 
 

As he sat in the dressing room looking at the fight card, he said to his manager:
“Okay, I'll tell you one more time: before I get in the ring with information like that,
somebody's gotta assure me that the fix is in.”
 
 
 
 

Dialogue.
“When a man works for his self at least he’ll finally get paid what he’s worth.”
   “Not necessarily.”
“I'm talking about sane people.”
 
 
 
 

On one planet, every morning at eleven, a voice declares world-wide:
“Everyone already on the playground can remain there –
the rest of you  –  back to work!”                         (And the second group never learns.)
 
 
 
 

In many instances concerning first-reality affairs it can be to your advantage to
take someone’s word for something, but if you do so concerning any second-reality matter, you merely increase the travesty of your thinking.
 
 
 
 

In some lands the concept of “A tyrant with a heart” seems anomalous,
while in certain unconventional kingdoms he is the messiah pro tem.

One man keeps part of his controlled consciousness focused on a sore
inside his cheek  –  just a part!
 
 
 
 

As the afternoon musers were propping up the agora, one of them said:
“Something continues to bamboozle me: If the gods were our ancestors,
and our ancestors are like our food, then are we like flesh they have fed and created,
or are we like an endless act of eating?”

One chap finally faced the fact that he simply wasn’t brittle enough to be a Romantic .