One man’s favorite comment to his ordinary consciousness
concerning what he’s up to is: “Try it!  –  you’ll hate it.”

Ordinary men seem to have an innate interest in being a trial lawyer  –
as witnessed by  the fact that whenever they talk about themselves
they sound like they’re delivering a closing argument.
(“Point Of Order, Your Honor: Should this be found strange?”)

One man experienced a string of false pregnancies;
“Better though than no pregnancy at all,” adds he.

Every morning, and other times when he awakens and looks back on the dream world he just departed, one man always notes to his self that he was lucky to
get out with his life.

Tropical Tonsorial Update.
Accepting the thoughts that naturally appear in your consciousness
is like a bad comb-over.

One man sometimes pictures that he is a brain  inside a body.

The Personality Of It All.
Either all humans are frauds or else none are.

Those who write horror stories believe they are smarter than everyone else --
when their books sell;
when they don’t, the public’s stupidity is to them, just reproved.

Several times one man seemed to have outsmarted death and felt quite proud thereof, ‘til one day it hit him how dumb death is.
(Which triggered further realizations concerning other of his past conceived victories.
    “I may be stupid as shit, but at least I can not be by understanding it,”
      notes an uncommon chap.)
Every time one man would be struck by lightning, it would cause an electrical storm.

Everyone (certainly not limited to paleontologists) discovers the remains of
prehistoric creatures (though few ever correctly identify them).

The most important thing for a writer to remember who makes a great
intellectual discovery is to never.............................(oh, something or the other).

The man previously reported on who sometimes imagines he’s a brain inside a body also says the experience is mind-blowing       (and laughed by the way, upon uttering that phrase).

Whenever he’d start to look back over his life, one man would always focus on
one particular spot: the time he determined never to look back over his life.

One man decided that if he did come back after death
he wanted to return as a dog he owned.

The conscious part of the brain will do almost anything
to keep from being left at home on its own.

Whenever he’d heard the statement: “We’re all in this together,”
one guy always wondered if someone had gotten out of the bucket.

One man says that being unconscious does have its benefits,
(though hard to describe to those who are not.
“Which would be who, exactly?” inquires a passing cop.)

Noodles one guy: “What’s wrong with this arrangement: the only way to know that you’re hip is for other people you consider hip to say that you are?
Worse still: how does this apply to knowing you’re enlightened or not?”
In the land of feet  --  ants are always on edge.
Some neurons asked some hormones: “When we grow up can we be on edge?”
    “Why not  –  we are.”
A father said to a son: “One day instinct and thought were talking  –
no they weren't  --  they CAN’T!        Gotcha!”
(And an ant thought: “If reincarnation works and I do come back,
I want to be a flea on the dog owned by the man mentioned earlier.”)

One man's thoughts constituted his worst nightmares  –
until he understood that his thoughts constitute him.     Now he’s REALLY bummed!

One man often hosts some of the world’s most important people  –   yet is a hermit.   (“Go figure,” says he  –  “some place else,” he adds.)
    “Hey  –   you can't fool me: that’s a gag  –  hermits don’t talk.”

One man suffered mood swings  –   and made them into a hammock.

One man never listens to any news that doesn’t affect him personally:
he only listens to news that comes from him.

People who have died never complain that it’s: “One thing after another.”
     (“Bailiff!  –   should I object to this.”)

Maxim Update.
If you have to ask the price  –  you deserve to be forced to buy it.

One man mused:
“Neat is it not how anyone with a reasonably facile mind can listen in for a bit
at what is routinely discussed in the world’s most important buildings
(symbolically: The US Capitol, The White House, The Pentagon, The NY Stock Exchange,
The UN, The Vatican) and then write a Pulitzer Prize quality frightening essay
concerning something they heard there!?                    Oh yeah, something else:
why is it necessary to put a laugh track on comedy shows
but not a sob track on dramas?”
And one guy pondered: “Does my consciousness know something I don’t?”
(And all the dogs and fleas just laughed and laughed.)

To protect his liver from infections, one man, relying on alcohol's acclaimed
cleansing properties, consumes copious amounts of various distilled beverages
(and takes similar care of his consciousness by freely taking in all the
everyday ideas of his fellow man).

One man has established a club he's named: Welcome To The Club;
the sole requirement for membership is to not know what you’re talking about
and not be aware of it.         (He says enrollment has already surpassed six billion and is growing.)
(To qualify as an officer in the organization you must not only not know what you’re talking about but must be given to issuing advice to others.)

Says one fellow: “The only thing I enjoy more than making a farting noise
as a representative of the establishment sits down,
is doing so to my own brain’s normal consciousness.”

The Certain Man’s Neural Health Update.
The more often you listen to the thoughts that appear naturally in the
conscious part of the brain, the more likely you will be mentally ill.

Conversation.
“A man who never quotes or resorts to statistics, may know something.”
    “But still, if he’s talking about anything seriously, it’s probably unlikely, huh?”
“A certainty.”

The conscious part of one man’s brain admits: “I suffer from an eating disorder:
I’ll swallow anything given me.”

“Man! –  that’s weird.”
    “What?”
“Exactly.”

Just for fun, one guy will hang out insouciantly in an area known for its
mental pick pockets.

In one land, just before prisoners are shot they’re forced to play the accordion,
(just to increase the embarrassment of the moment).

With the certain man’s consciousness: the shoe is never on the other foot.

The Film Chronology.
The way it looked from his seat, one man’s life went from being a cartoon, to a trailer,
to a drama, then a documentary, and now a comedy (at least of sorts).
    “Four bucks for popcorn!  –   god damn!” –  he said to himself at the last moment.

“Sloppin’ the hogs,” is what one guy calls it.
    “What?”
The whole thing.