Me, I Have A Science Fiction Writer's

Man, You're No Smarter Than Me. You're Just A Fancier Kind Of Stupid.

And I'm A Pair Of Pants With A Hole Scorched Through The Ass?

Time Didn't Pass; It Tailgated.

In 1971, After Seven Years In College, With That Magic Piece Of Paper Clutched Triumphantly In My Fist, The Best Job I Was Able To Get Was Night Watchman On A Sewer Project In Babylon, N.y. Guarding A Hole In The Ground To Prevent Anyone From Stealing It. God Bless The American Educational System!

And There's This Place Called College! I Mean, They Want You To Care, Dig It, Care About This Education Trip, And They Don't Care Enough Themselves To Make It As Attractive As The Crap Game Across The Street!