When he first started, he thought it was a big deal;
after he got well into it he discovered it was a bigger deal than he had imagined;
then the day came when he realized he didn’t really know what kind of deal it was,
(shortly after that  --  he got  the deal).
 

One man nicknamed the area where his upper hormonal operations
met his lower neural ones: The Pertinent Rascal.
(Note: This is the place of activity ordinary men think of as their self --
their "I"--  their individual personality.)
Epicurean Info.
At dinner’s finis the gorged guests retired to the library where cordials were served, (along with this observation by the butler):
“When hormones are tickled in a certain way  --  mind has no choice but to smile.”
Criminology Update.
Mundane ground floor burglars can appear perfunctory and uninspired in their work while second story thieves may seem bright and excited in theirs;
looks themselves however, can be deceiving.
Geological Bulletin.
Another chap has labeled the area of his consciousness that he has so
profitably worked his: Metaphor Mine.
What the real-deal-man extracts from anywhere in his nervous system
all ends up in the same place,
(and no El Lardo, not on his hips).
 

As he stood alone on a Saturday night, atop the castle wall, looking down on
the town’s Emergency Room, the King mused with a soupcon of envy:
“With all the fights, car wrecks, gunshots, stabbings, and drug over doses  --
what fun the people must be having.”
 

The city (the natural born) part of one man’s consciousness asked the area
he had post natally expanded,  its secret of success to which it replied:
“If I told you  --  I’d have to kill you,” to which it responded:
    “What the hell do you think you’ve damn near already done!”
“Ha ha” it said (though it didn’t actually say it).
 

Cows (sorry) men study the lives of others because (so they say)
it helps them cope with their own.
    (“Ain’t herding grand.”)
 

The Nutritional Info on one package of meat reads:
“Always sensitive with others  --  never to oneself.   (Forget the RDA!)”
 

Definition.
The Supreme Glass Ceiling: What men by nature collectively believe in.
 

All ordinary jokes are complaints of some kind.
 

Personal Finances.
When you finally catch on to what is  going on
you then become  -- debt free.
 

What men call their government (and  their personality)
is like a reminder-blanket  with a built-in slight shock that is thrown over the herd,
and each cow (sorry) man individually.
 

Thinking Amongst The Many.
In the city: plagiarism-of-thought is an acceptable form of  thinking.
 

A man who seemed to suffer from a mite of native clumsiness one day said:
“I hate anything that can spill, break or splatter,” and his thoughts started to say something about themselves  --  then decided it was too obvious to bother with.
 

One man claims he thought of mad-cow-disease first.
(And one man says: “All ordinary cows are a joke of some kind.”)
 

In a discussion regarding the existence of god,
a Knight noted to the Royal Priest about the people:
“Even the non religious yet unwitting embrace their own consciousness as
an unnamed god."
Hormones do their work without the need to say what the work is,
while neurons appear unable to complete theirs without attempting to describe it
in endless detail.
    “Pa pa: does the describing actually have anything to do with the fulfillment of
      the mind’s responsibilities?”
“Being that the activity is there  --  how can you think it does not.”
In another universe legend tells of an all encompassing deity (now well forgotten)
who went by the moniker: This Is It.
    “Wow --  you’re right: that’s sure the kind of thing that is super easy to forget!”
Query: Why?
 

A father sat down a son and to him said:
“Kid: it is best never to buy anything from anyone who is trying to sell you something,” and the puzzled lad rhetorically countered:
    “But what alternative is there?!”  --  and the jubilant elder cried out: