If you’re going to show up later anyhow, no need to be on time.
Short, insane ideas that make sense could prove dangerous to someone’s cup-of-tea.
Some who love their sleep say that the first rays of sunrise are the worst, and a Revolutionist once told some interested visitors the same thing, except he didn’t mention beds, or daybreak.
(Ah, the steady forward of winsome talk and Wild Turkey):
Over in a small bar in the next time zone, a fellow climbed onto the bar and delivered the following verbal bouquet;
“I used to speak in riddles,
But now I speak in rhymes,
I used to live on quarters
But now I live on dimes;
I have never met a thought so formidable that it could not be chopped, nor a word so pithy that it couldn’t be dropped.” (Need I tell you that his next round was on me.)
Up toward the front was one man proclaiming, “We’re all on a fast trip to destruction,” while back near the rear another figure was announcing, “We’re on a slow cruse to paradise,” and wandering up and down the aisles was a chap selling torn calendars, and out-dated watches.