After some white wine and congenial schmoozing at a recent party,
one critic gave with half a gesture and smile and admitted that the
best part of his profession was in “always having the last word”.
He took another full sip of chardonnay and added,
“Assuming artists and writers don’t begin to arm themselves.”
In that great fictitious restroom,
over one illustrious neuronal-urinal, graffiti:
“Sex is a one-way street, running in all directions.”
everything is just “setting the stage.”
The Welcoming Sign and Civic Motto
posted at the outskirts of one world simply said,
“If You’re From Out Of Town You’re Out Of Luck.”
Believing that someone can
“insult your intelligence”
is the same as having a hero.