How much?


I cannot be bought.
Brilliant observation, voiced aloud by me today after a few days of rumination that lead to an instant of uncommon clarity: The reason dogs look awkward in little tennis sweaters is because they clearly prefer racquetball.
Good day, good night, and thank you for the celery. (This is my new closing line, a la the tradition of evening news anchors. Not, of course, that I ever had a closing line, which would then be considered the “old” one.)
Tomorrow is another banana, so make it a good one. (This is the one I will be calling “new” in the future.)
Toodles. (This will never be it. This is just me saying “Later”, but not knowing how to get out of this set-up now that I started it. So yes, Jane, get me off this crazy thing.)