A "good" Family, It Seems,

I've Always Had A Sneaking Fondness For Martin Van Buren. He Wrote His Autobiography, You Know, And Never Once Mentioned His Wife. Now That's What I Call A Mans Man.

Unlike Some People Who Have Experienced The Loss Of An Animal, I Did Not Believe, Even For A Moment, That I Would Never Get Another. I Did Know Full Well That There Were Just Too Many Animals Out There In Need Of Homes For Me To Take What I Have Always Regarded As The Self-indulgent Road Of Saying The Heartbreak Of The Loss Of An Animal Was Too Much Ever To Want To Go Through With It Again. To Me, Such An Admission Brought Up The Far More Powerful Admission That All The Wonderful Times You Had With Your Animal Were Not Worth The Unhappiness At The End.

It Suddenly Dawned On Me One Day, When I Was Reading In The Paper About A Woman Wrestler, That Being A Curmudgeon Was The Last Thing In The World That A Man Can Be That A Woman Cannot Be. Women Can Be Irritating -- After All, They Are Women -- But They Cannot Be Curmudgeons.

The National Park Service Shot A Mule In The Face. He Survived But Had Trouble Swallowing And Often Food Came Out Of His Nose.

The Facts Of Life Are Very Stubborn Things.