Why do I feel old? Why are people cold? Why is my life sad? What is in a rant? Why do you not have a polyester pant? bad, bad, bad, bad.
Things will become worse soon. The price of tobacco will increase. My asthma will become peenu-monia. Tonic will not be served with gin. Love will be banned from the frescoes of Florence. Or the fauna/flora of Ellora. Veronica will get Archie because a Yeti will get Betty.
OK, I think I must stop.
OK, just one more crucial point. Has anyone eaten a soup spiced with gloop? Or a pot of snot? Do parrots not eat carrots? Why not? Do they really eat chillies, the sillies? Do horses never lie down? I never want to be a horse. In my next life, I want to be an Egyptian God, but I do not want to be a naked Egyptian God. I don't want to be you. I don't want to be you either. I don't want to be a literary critic. I want to be Scheherazade. I want to be rich. Really rich.
I want to be meaningful and not at all funny. I want to burst with meaning. I want to help people. I want to bring about World Peace. Also greater multicultural understanding. I will never be depressed. No, I will, but only when I lose on the stock market. I want to play with bulls and bears and not with stupid hearts. I also want to play with the fates of many nations. I will only drink carrot juice and neem juice. I will eat neem begun and eat broccoli and ask "Who is Barbara Broccoli?"
I want to be overwhelmingly decent. Now give me the Nobel Prize. Quick!
P.S.- I can't believe that you are reading this post. Suckers! Losers! Yaaah! Yaaah!
P.P.S.- I am growing really old and am neither-here-nor-there. Abandoned and decrepit. I feel like Perry Como staring at the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. And also, not quite Mahler and uh Mendelssohn?