Love Is A Wonderful Thing, My Dear,

We Were Developing A Machine That Used Egg White, Heat And Sugar To Synthesize Methanol When A Power Surge Caused An Implosion. Owens Was Meringued. By The Time We Chipped Him Out The Poor Chap Had Expired.

Without A Yardstick Sometimes The High Points Can Be Taken For Granted.

Writing Is Not Something You Can Do Or You Can't. It's Not Even Something That 'other People Do' Or 'for Smart People Only' Or Even 'for People Who Finished School And Went To University'. Nonsense. Anyone Can Do It. But No-one Can Do It Straight Off The Bat. Like Plastering, Brain Surgery Or Assembling Truck Engines, You Have To Do A Bit Of Training - Get Your Hands Dirty - And Make Some Mistakes.

To Espresso Or To Latte, That Is The Question...whether 'tis Tastier On The Palate To Choose White Mocha Over Plain...or To Take A Cup To Go. Or A Mug To Stay, Or Extra Cream, Or Have Nothing, And By Opposing The Endless Choice, End One's Heartache.

Once Upon A Midnight Dreary, While I Pondered Weak And Weary, O’er A Plan To Venge Myself Upon That Cursed Thursday Next- This Eyre Affair, So Surprising, Gives My Soul Such Loath Despising, Here I Plot My Temper Rising, Rising From My Jail Of Text. “get Me Out!” I Said, Advising, “pluck Me From This Jail Of Text- Or I Swear I’ll Wring Your Neck!