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I'm not lazy. In fact, I'm a workaholic, which is why I can never work. I'm recovering. Even light work, I can't touch it. Maybe one day, I'll help an old lady with a bag of groceries -- boom! -- I'm in the Peace Corps.
Yesterday I bought a cuckoo clock at an Army Navy store. Last night at 10, the bird chirped 2,200 times.
My uncle is a mess. He's had numerous heart attacks. They've used those defibrillators on him so many times that he's got a plus on one nipple and a minus on the other.
My uncle is a strange guy. He's very moody, manic-depressive. Once, he sent me a postcard. It said, 'Having a wonderful time. Wish I were dead.'
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