There's no tomorrow. Seriously, if you think

There's no tomorrow. Seriously, if you think about it, there can't be. The past doesn't exist either. You want to know something else? Life is utterly pointless, there's absolutely

no point in ballet. That's why without any training we put on an existentialist Swan Lake production, under a bridge. The drunks would come and watch us, laughing at our terribl

e cancan technique. A man staggered forth from the bums and said, "So y'all wanna cancan? Lemme teach ya *belch* how." He pulled a dusty tutu out from under his cap and sprung into

a trash can. The other bums put the lid on and at his muffled command, hummed the can-can song and set the can rolling down the alley.When it hit a dumpster he flew out in his tutu

bedazzling.. a NY cop on his beat.But he didn't let it faze him & danced a pointe in his holey sneaks, performing his Cinderella routine pirouettes & all. Sgt. Murphy was impressed

and joined in with a flurry of Grand Jetés and Pirouettes. The performance culminated with Sgt. Murphy doing full splits in the middle of Fifth Avenue. A cabbie laid on the horn.

Sgt. Murphy didn't move a muscle. He held his pose straddling the double yellow lines with his jazz hands waving gayly in the air. The NYC passersby blew kisses and cheered for

Sgt. Murphy. Despite the badge and uniform they knew that Sgt. Murphy used to be a funny comedian. A raunchy comedian. All that changed radically when

Sgt. Murphy was forced to join the Army when he was a kid. This was in the old days, way back when all the young fellas were forced to join, and no-one complained because it was

their GOD-GIVEN AMERICAN DUTY TO THE PRESIDENT & JESUS. No thinking otherwise! No liberal commie pinko cowardly pacifism! I shed a joyous tear to see the old ways resurfacing.