Overheard

Conversation Number Eight and a Half:

“How’d you stop?”

“I just stopped.”

“Nah, I mean really?”

As he departed the gym, one guy shouted back over his shoulder, “Call me when you got sit-ups for the brain.”

 

 

If you take what’s going on now seriously, you ain’t gonna believe what’s coming up.

 

 

One City fashion plate, (if not cup and saucer), declared at the party, “All I seek is a guru more impassioned than me, but dumber.”

 

 

A ruler fixed is a ruler nixed, and a neutered king will never sing.

j.

Art History

vFrom the List of Nevers:

Never seek revenge in the rain.

 

 

A well-paid City uncle told his little nephew, “Kid, if you got a hero, you ain’t got a chance.”

 

 

Question:

What is Man’s most popular art form?

Answer:

Talk.  Why?  Cause the materials are so cheap.

 

 

One guy, in the throes of impending death, cried out, “Okay, Life, but if I gotta go I’m gonna take a piece of you with me.”

 

 

Those who don’t know the joke keep laughing in the wrong places.  (How grunt-line gauche.)

J.

A Traveling Song

As you tripsy along, never forget this song:

“Down the road a piece,

  Oh, down the road a piece,

  Down the road a piece,

  Is another road,”

 

 

ANY one who can be snubbed, should be.

 

 

One man described typical City life to his young son thusly, “It’s a place where a bartender still expects a tip, even should his dear mother belly up to the bar for a short one.  That’s the City.”

 

 

That what needs validation, ain’t correct.

 

 

People will find most anything, once finished and done with, acceptable.

J.

Overheard

Conversation Number Eight:

“How’d you do it?”

“I just did it.”

“Nah, I mean REALLY, really?”

 

 

In pondering the limits of the ephemeral and historical, consider the hobby of collecting antique ice cream.

 

 

After a distinctly disappointing episode, one City gentleman declared, “If I could do one thing over again, it would be EVERY thing.”

 

 

A defensive Revolutionist
is a sick Revolutionist.

 

 

One promising lad received the following advice from his grand, “The most efficient way to do better is to do better.”

J.

Retorious

One Man’s parting advice, “Give dynamite a wide berth and calamity the right-of-way.”

 

 

Some City-time back, there was a mighty warrior known as “Retorious,” which means, “He, the fear of whom makes the tongue sweat.”

 

 

One guy used to start his day by pointing at himself in the mirror and saying, “Don’t let THIS happen to you.”

 

 

It wasn’t so long ago
that it wasn’t long ago.

 

 

A Revolutionist-type guy walks into a bar and sez, “Gimme a double shot of the inevitable.”

 

 

A GOOD Revolutionist should be able to put fate on hold.

J.

The B.O.D.D.

To City poets, EVERY thing rhymes with “whines”.

 

 

A recent City speaker stated that there is some evidence to suggest that our entire planet, along with its ecosystems, may be one living, intelligent being, and a voice from the audience asked, “Does that include my Uncle Elmer?”

 

 

City proof that one is still alive:

When one says, “I pretty much find things the way I’ve always found them.”

 

 

Through all the histories of human prejudice and narrow-mindedness, I have never heard of a cemetery that rejected a client on the basis of his dumbness.

 

 

If you’re gonna’ attempt to study Life in a closet, you can expect no more than a B.O.D.D. degree:  A Bachelor of Dust and Darkness.

J.

Sure Bet

There’s no retirement from real power.

 

 

You’re never offered an apparent free choice between two possibilities without the outcome already being known.  Man is not proffered a selection of two candidates without either the vote tally already having been fixed, or else both candidates being in-the-pocket.  (You do realize that I am speaking of the general nature of Life, and not mere specifics.)

 

 

To look upon the absence of an occurrence as its cure, is to accept starvation as the ultimate laxative.

 

 

Sure Bet Number 22:

Anyone who attempts to explain genius ain’t one.

 

 

P.S.  There are TWO eternities.

J.

Wax World

Stereophonic ideas aren’t adequately reproduced on a monaural mind.

 

 

If it wasn’t for clichés
we wouldn’t have these days.

 

 

The “truth” of Man is indeed etched in wax.

 

 

A profit-minded father told his sales-minded son, “Just keep talking while you’re thinking of what to say, it saves time.”

 

 

If they say, “We’re doing random testing,” you say, “My name’s not random.”

J.

Wrap-Up

Why do you think they CALL it a “booby prize”?

 

 

One Revolutionist, using a variation of the old Windy City political adage, each morning urged the troops to, “Think early and think often.”

 

 

A wrap-up’s not much of a wrap-up if it doesn’t actually wrap it up.

 

 

You CAN begin to have some concern for the future if you ever hear Life say, “I’ll take four cards.”

 

 

The best seats are free…maybe I should just tell it to you this way:

The free have the best seats.

J.

Around the Corner

Anyone showing “real promise,” won’t for long.

 

 

One City anthropologist sez he measures the beginnings of civilization from the time the first Man said, “Next round’s on me.”

 

 

The very next time you have the chance to do something nice for the City, do it, then say, “Now we’re even.”

 

 

Just around the corner
is another corner.

 

 

Catch this:  Heard a guy up-stream say that, “Luck is feminine, and the truth is cold.”

J.

The Thing to Do

They recently found a Man with what some said were “revolutionist-type stains,” on his clothing, wandering about dazed near the bushes, repeating over and over, “Lost amidst my freedom, adrift in this god-a-mighty amazing release.”

 

 

Last night I heard a Man announce, at the corner of this-and-that, the following:

“Citizens, you may care to note that we’ve ALL fallen into their hands.”

 

 

Those who truly expect guarantees in this life may well BE from Atlantis, or another

planet – they sure ain’t from around HERE.

 

 

At the City level, by the time you figure out what to do it’s no longer the thing to do.

 

 

Hearing the cry, “You’re dead meat,” said in Italian seems to take the edge off a bit.

J.

 

Easier Said...

Anything easier said than done is about par for the course.

 

 

A Real Revolutionist ain’t really from anywhere.

 

 

Disdain for inconsistency is a disguised plea for intelligence.

 

 

Another father told his little one, “Son, there is one thing I can tell you that you may depend on unconditionally:  Don’t bite off what you can’t bite off.”

 

 

What could make a more delightful and informative City parlay than a rich religious ritual and good whiskey?

J.

Abstract Truth

A parade without clowns will disappoint all but the generals and the chauvinists.

 

 

Since you cannot pass your days in garb unsoiled, would you prefer it to come from stains and wounds?

 

 

A would-be Revolutionist can’t be a slow mind on a fast track, (and there’s no prize for being a fast one on a slow one).  You see, it’s just like you always suspected, you just can’t win unless you win.

 

 

One determined Trooper cried out, “If there IS such a thing as the ‘abstract truth’ then I want an abstract mind to perceive it with!”

 

 

Free people don’t need to be rich.

J.

Imaginary Playmates

Those who have heroes deserve them…okay, have it your way.

 

 

All City “truth” is, by its own unrecognized nature, allusive and emblematic.

 

 

REAL rulers have the People as their “imaginary playmates.”

 

 

In the alive, expanding world of the revolution, original plans don’t mean shit.

 

 

No matter how great may be the man, do not idly stand in the shadow of someone falling TOWARD you.

J.

Back Together

There was this one City Person who, each night, prayed, “Oh dear lord, I beseech thee, and pray that in the morn’ you will once again put me back together.”

 

 

It pays to know where you’re going, (at the very least in money saved in map purchases).

 

 

At one Revolutionist Camp, at their weekly gathering, it came a Trooper’s turn to address his comrades; he stood and said just this: “There has recently occurred with me an event upon which it is most difficult to speak,” then he sat back down to appreciative silence.

 

 

Look, if it seems like you’re gonna “overdo it,” at least don’t OVER do it.

 

 

There are reports from the City of a Man now roaming the streets, beating his thighs and crying out, “Woe, woe unto us and our fates; the Age of Economists is upon us!”

J.

The Monster

In the regular wiring of City dwellers, vices act as fuses.

 

 

There is a certain monster that haunts the far corners of the universe, always just out of human sight.

 

 

For the Revolutionist, there’s really no such place as “almost.”

 

Once, just after having had several good thoughts in a row, a Trooper asked himself, “Are you getting TOO smart for your own good?”  And after a momentary reflection replied, “Are you nuts?”

 

 

There was this would-be jurist-critic who finally conceded, “Even if I COULD draw up a valid indictment of Life, who would I get to serve it?”

J.

The Monster

In the regular wiring of City dwellers, vices act as fuses.

 

 

There is a certain monster that haunts the far corners of the universe, always just out of human sight.

 

 

For the Revolutionist, there’s really no such place as “almost.”

 

Once, just after having had several good thoughts in a row, a Trooper asked himself, “Are you getting TOO smart for your own good?”  And after a momentary reflection replied, “Are you nuts?”

 

 

There was this would-be jurist-critic who finally conceded, “Even if I COULD draw up a valid indictment of Life, who would I get to serve it?”

J.

Dump the Copies

The Man stood tall and erect and in a calm, clear voice announced, “For my last request, I want wine, women, music and dance.”  And another voice replied, “No one’s about to execute you, you don’t get a ‘last request.’”  And the guy sez, “Was worth a try.”

 

 

I am disturbed by the similarity of the terms “love it” and “shove it.”

 

 

Near Victoria Falls there’s a Man whose neighbors claim, “thinks of things no one has ever thought of,” but they admit they can’t prove it.

 

 

One City side-winder declared, “I’ve heard it said that it takes TIME to do things right, but does that make the alternative any easier?”

 

 

From the Book of Nevers:

Never lock an idiot in the attic.

 

 

If you got the original, dump the copies.

J.

In A Flash!

Said one City sophomore:

No religion has reached its full maturity until its adherents begin to toast one another.

 

 

How can anything ever explain its own absence?  How can ignorance, lack of intelligence, “make up for” its own sorry self?

 

 

A fellow said that one day, whilst he was unexpectedly happy, he heard a little voice down inside his own sweet self softly singing, “Oh, ain’t it grand to be a gland.”

 

 

In the City, affection can come and go in a flash, but hate is not so unjustly limited.

 

 

There have been reports of late that out at the East City Beach, on dark nights, coming from off shore, just out of sight, there is heard the sound of something gigantic thrashing about and breathing heavy.

J.

Here-to-There

Those who enjoy flattery deserve it…oh, okay, NEED it.

 

 

One tale I heard said that the way from “here-to-there” is over a high, narrow ridge made of diamonds, gold, and razor blades.

 

 

Whilst poking about at his prunes one morning, a man aloud mused, “You know, a string of bad luck is like a string of twine,” and his wife said, “No, it’s not,” and he shot her.

 

 

One ole sorehead, chided for his anger and asked, “Where was his human compassion?” replied, “It fucking died and went to live with the angels where it belongs.”

 

 

On a well versed bathroom wall I recently found this writ:
“Poets never sleep.” 
Now if THAT doesn’t keep you awake all night, what will?

J.