Can you ever truly reconcile yourself with the farting of the cows on Monday? If you haven't heard from your hat in ten or less days, you need to sponge the council's soap from your tongue and lick the bootie of the biggest Big Bird you can find.

It won't help, but it will put the saltine back on your cracker, guaranteed.

Once upon a time, there lived a squirrel. He was dead. I had nothing to do with it and there's nothing you can do to make your own Oreos. You can try, but you'll just fail.

As a creation of The Year of Our Lord, I invented science when I was naked in the swamp and there's nothing you can do about that. I cannot stop you from trying, but Mother Margulis and The Soup Kitchen Band will stop you.

The black chair is full of cat and bags and a compass in the shape of a cheap Christmas wreath, and if you follow them, you will get to the part where all of this suddenly makes sense.

If that ever happens, you need to call your doctor and discuss the proper procedure for dealing with all the coconuts and limes that you must consume.

Good day to me. I hope I have no experience of relevance and that nothing ever happens again that can be traced back to me.