It's true what they say about approaching forty years of age...
…you really do start to hate Potter for being such a skinny so and so.
Never mind, here’s a poem.
Robert Frost
Rhymed at any cost
To avoid the letdown
Of tennis with net down.
What are you trying to tell me, Walker Percy?
What’s that? You want me to finish The Last Gentlemen now that your dear wife has passed? Sorry pal, there’s just no market for it. (I suspect it was a telemarketer. But seeing as how I didn’t pick up, I’ll never know for sure.)
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