February 8th, 2003 - 9:38 a.m.

My good man, may you be accosted by a taxi of stampeding elephants.

Now it is known how an earthworm must feel, after a satisfying meal of root mixed generously with soil, and it decides to pour down fists of rain.

"How like God," he muttered.

Waiting for a moment of perfection is as redundant as looking for one.

"She looks like a million dollars, after taxes."

N.

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