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.