I had too much to drink last night and flushed a handkerchief down the toilet thinking it was kleenex. And now, of course, the toilet's plugged. And Lenore and little John Parry have been strutting about the place mightily this morning, under the impression that--once and for all--their point has been made about the absurdity of using a handkerchief in the twenty-first century.
But wherefore your arrogant self-righteousness when that strut has been reduced by unforgiving nature to the inevitable and desperate dance? ... I delay my call to the plumber for this reason; there's humility enough for us all here, my sneering housemates. More coffee?