(please do not mention it)Someday he would

(please do not mention it)Someday he would do it, but not today, he would have to work up the courage. The thought of it seemed to swirl around in his mind, seemingly making him

sharpen ten pencils, brew a pot of coffee, take the phone off the hook, make sandwiches, and line up 3 reams of paper. Now, to begin. "I met Harry Potter in my second year. Dreamy.

But with just a touch of bitterness, like the kind that you might find in a cheap wine you'd buy from Costco." I crumpled the paper and started again. "I met Harry Potter in my

deranged depression that was caused by my midlife crisis. He was a real jerk. The Harry Potter you know in the books, is not the real life guy." I finished my scotch to embolden me

...well...Pretty easy, actually. They could be beat friends and steal bacon for a living dressed like that. In fact, underpants make great headwaters for the weathered traveler.

Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac were beat friends already and pulled up all the daisies they saw. The other travellers said they were hungry, so all the daisies were eaten.

This despite warnings posted by the movie and TV show title (both starring Doris Day, I think). But Ginsberg and Kerouac were way too cool for Doris Day and went On the Road

where the night wind breathes heady far away anguish. Always coming atya. Coming atya. Coming atya. atya atya atya atya atya at.

In my last moment, I embraced the Truth...and smiled, knowing my pain was now forever over.