Said a rich man:
“The reason you always want to be richer is so that
if you now have eleven guards protecting you  –   you could have twenty two.”
(The allegorical application of this for the few is far too blatant to pursue.)
 

Regarding Residency.
One man says he feels much better and secure now that he has moved into the Exclusive And Historically Significant Gated Estate of HIM!
 

Concerning Public Housing.
The dense delight in designating places as: Holy Cities.
(Notes holes: “Gophers may run but they can’t hide.”)
 

For the certain man: a story with a sub plot wasn’t much of a story to start with.
 

Talking to yourself is always cheaper than any phone service’s rates.
 

What is the most enormous waste of time possible for a man?
Attempting to prove another man a liar.
 

The ole man said to the kid:
“The shorter they are –  the louder they talk.”
    “But what about tall people who talk loud?”
“I wasn’t speaking physically.”
 

People who don’t feel that they have anything are the ones most given to proclaim:
“I have wonderful children.” (Referring to actual ones.)
 

Good City Tip.
Don’t look where you’re going  –  not if you want to snooze peacefully.
 

There are two judicial settings: One where, if the authorities charge you,
you must prove your innocence, and another where, if they charge you,
they must prove your guilt;
men’s automatic-consciousness resides in a state that totally befuddlefucks
both of these concepts.
 

Although many medical clinics advertise that they are: Experts In Pain Management, one man quickly discovered that it did not include what bothered him.
 

One man became senile before his time  –   okay, let’s be more exact about this:
his consciousness tried to go south on him, early on.
    (“And this makes him exceptional, HOW?” injects some local smartass.)
 

If you feel you have an inner self that deserves public showing,
you run the specific risk of experiencing low-self-esteem.
(Shade goes with the sidewalk.)
 

(Marketers and ad writers should be flaming envious of this):
With the flip-of-a-switch, one man can  -- change EVERYTHING!
 

If what you can naturally do impresses others  –  you have actual talent.
 

The most highest childhood dream for any consciousness
is that of growing up to be the voice-over to someone’s life.
 

Because the stakes are so low: men take their reputations most seriously.
 

In Re The Great Adventure.
If you can’t go-it-alone, you are not yet sufficiently alone to make a go of it.
 

Graffito Of The Day.
In the city, an insincere man is a happy man.
(Corollary: The secretly insincere man alone knows how to properly interact with man’s second reality.)
 

A fellow so pondered:
“If talk’s relationship to understanding is what love’s is to sex,
then would silence’s worth be words’ squared?”
(Adjunct: For the nervous-system-rebel: everything that’s so, is doubly so.
    “Damn!  –   everything?!”)
(Trust me: You don’t want to think about it.)
 

When he read in a tourism brochure: “Though its cities have their attraction,
the real soul of Ireland is found in its countryside,” a man instantly thought:
“No, no  –   they’re talking about consciousness.”
 

A father advised a son:
“Don’t be concerned about whether or not you can take-it-with-you,
the real question is: do you want to take it with you.”
 

When Reality Docks HARD In The Minds Of The Mundane.
While sailors see metaphors in tales about buses,
they find little so in yarns of the sea.
    (“Look away  –   look away,
       far away’s where I must look.”)
 

From the rebel’s Lost Theological Handbook (chapter on: Afterlife).
If he is naughty, for punishment after he dies a revolutionist is sent to a place
where everything (including him) must be taken seriously.
 

One man (in a final fit of some sort or the other) sent this two sentence letter
to every proclaimed important person on the planet:
“Dear Sir or Madam: Is there any significance in anything you say?
(Please be specific.)”
    An e-mail just in:
“At times what I read in your Daily News really sets me off to thinking about
the nature of thinking, while at other times it makes me momentarily gasp at
the normally not calculated connections between rape and vaseline,
and it seems to me that the Moral to all of this is:
A man’s mind is a terrible thing to fuck with!  –   unless of course
it is a willing, nay  –   anxious participant.   Gratefully (Sometimes) Yours,” etc.
    Whoa!  –   another one just arrived:
“I don’t know which I dislike the most:
your stories that start off serious then end up otherwise,
or the ones that go the other way around.
Often after reading JDN  all I want to do is laugh  –
but for some reason I fear that doing so might kill me  –   OR WORSE!   Sincerely,” etc.