Journalistic note from out Primaryville’s way: If you can actually “report the news,” there isn’t much new to report.
At another time and place
This Kinda Stuff was called
“The Threat Of Too Much Thought.”
In noting the increase in his errors and mistakes, this chap explains it by saying how he recently got an unbelievably good deal on a large shipment of erasers and white-out.
There was this one guy who would often talk to his brain, and sometimes (I suppose just as a joke) it would pretend it didn’t hear him.
Whilst peacefully engaged in agreeable duo sauntering, the ole man said, “Kid-son, one of the real prizes of living in the city is that you can psychologically ‘explain away’ anything you don’t like or can’t dominate, and by so doing, cast your own dumb, feeble self in an even better light than before.”