Sunday Squibs

 

My defense mechanisms in the face of aggression are but a Maginot Line. 

For every homicide the police have three classes of suspects: primary, secondary, and tertiary. On tv the culprit is always from the third group. In real life the guilty party is sometimes from the secondary group, but the jails are filled with primaries. 

A writer exorcises his demons who then fly to the reader’s soul. 

If people you find preachy could spend time as you, the end of the day would find them in the confessional box. 

Botany Bar pickup line: Mycelium or yours?

Husbands are facetiously accused of having selective hearing, but it’s because they’re so busy with their wife’s current request that they can’t focus on anything else. 

A writer without feedback grows reckless. 

Peasantrification: return of a previously gentrified neighborhood to its original slum state. 

Only a few can follow Jesus’ admonition to sell everything and give to the poor. The rest of us are still negotiating with the devil. 

The antidote to the fact that everyone is random is to swallow the pill that everyone matters. 

Poop stinks to warn our ancestors not to eat it and us not to play in it. 

If I could get a vision of earth as it really is in the solar system and in the galaxies, I’d have to lie down and close my eyes till the vertigo passed. 

My Christian belief oscillates between only a few being saved or that everyone eventually gets in, depending on how much of an angel or a demon I’ve been that day. 

Cooking is a solitary pleasure. The crowd is happy to talk among themselves till dinner is served. 

The challenge of marriage is to make someone happy without making yourself miserable.  

Flexibility? Resilience? Get married and you’ll find out how much resilience or flexibility you’ve got. 

When my investment statement comes with a cover letter offering free psychological counseling,  I know that a bear has been gutting my piggy bank. 

That yardarm yonder is used to hang miscreants as well as to determine if the sun is high enough for the day’s first drink. 

Based on how often people get me wrong, I must also get them wrong just as often. Maybe more so since I presume they don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. 

I can judge the age of a vehicle by the number and size of its cup holders. The introduction of Supersize drinks in 1987 was a watershed event.  

It's curious that rationalization of one’s motives has a bad name, since mankind defines itself as the rational animal.

We howl when trying to remove a purchase from its plastic packaging. Take a deep breath. Relax and remember that it came from those puzzle masters, the Chinese.