Timely Advice for Reluctant Hemophobes.

 

If ever one of your recently deposed siblings enters a dwelling in a neighboring state, intent on pushing his or her luck into unexhumed territory, you might think about following up with our corporate wing to see what arrangements can be made. One of the saddest times in anyone's life is when they find a rickety contract nurse concealed within a passage adjacent to a terrifyingly tempting package. In the event that a person of limited means is accused of 'going through the motions', you can send them my way for some genuine faux-fatherly advice. We could even go on a lunch date down below as long as someone gives us a heads-up about ongoing deficiency nightmares. The dupe of our local Parsonage is likeable enough, as long as you can get around the way he positions himself on your typical workday morning/afternoon. Yes, you heard me right: I need everything there is to see which contorts a little-used Army flood.

Only one so shy as to comment out of turn during a Bakersfield, CA labor dispute can be relied upon to file fictitious ghost accounts with the Hazelton, PA Numismatic Society. I myself once instructed such an individual and found the experience less than satisfying, to say the least. On the other hand, what would you have me do if something I once tried on was roundly panned by a person of great influence over Statewide arts funding? They'll go with you to see a bridge being demolished but they can't spare the time it takes to enumerate all the benefits of premature hold-ownershit. Whenever I see them exiting a cocktail party with their hands forcibly restricted, then I'll know that we've turned a major corner when it comes to interpersonal threat folderol. You might want to think about establishing a scholarship fund for returnees from the Eastern Theater. It may also be a good idea to wipe the God-forsaken smirk off of what passes for that 'face' of yours. Just sayin'....

At first light, I buffed her balm and then headed in a general direction. She had repeatedly warned my handlers not to investigate my reliance on over-the-counter calory counters. It seems that I'd stepped on a few toes and had the receipts to prove it. What she didn't know then, and he most definitely knows now, is how sad we all felt upon completion of our final mortuary signpost. It marked the beginning of a new chapter of our failure to accede to a Hidden Power. In case you'd like a clue, it rhymes with a little used entrainment format in our National Blood Guild Convention. They could've seen it from miles away. Instead, they sat with their hands folded primly looking for all the world like Earth's most recalcitrant Punk ensemble. If I went on to elaborate the properties of their primeval goo, you'd feel obligated to nominate my dimpetologist for the Forerunner of the Decade Award. But I will say this: he doesn't take kindly to the way you 'do up' the widdle dollies in your Masterpiece Collection. He says it just doesn't fit with your overall fashion imperative. And, you know what? I'm inclined to agree, as much as it goes against every bone in my fiber. What?

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