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Of all the tall tales, I think my favorite is the one about Eli Whitney and the interchangeable parts.
There are many stages to a man's life. In the first stage, he is young and eager, like a beaver. In the second stage, he wants to build things, like dams, and maybe chew down some trees. In the third stage, he feels trapped, and then "skinned." I'm not sure what the fourth stage is.
Instead of putting a quarter under a kid's pillow, how about a pinecone? That way, he learns that "wishing" isn't going to save our national forests.
I wish outer-space guys would conquer Earth and make people their pets, because I'd like to have one of those little basket-beds with my name on it.
If your friend is already dead, and being eaten by vultures, I think it's okay to feed some bits of your friend to one of the vultures, to teach him to do some tricks. But only if you're serious about adopting the vulture.
I would see him fly into the house across the way, pick up the telephone, and dial. My phone would ring, and it would be him, but it was just this squawking and cheeping. "What?! What?!" I would yell back, but he never did speak English.
If you're a boxing referee, it's probably illigal to wear a bowtie that spins, or changes colors.
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