“If you got guts.” Sell your car and become a pedestrian.
The hottest cars travel faster than sound. You’ll be in the hospital before you even start the motor.
The man lay on the couch telling his psychiatrist a sad tale. “I see my brother, Doctor,” he said. “He is walking down a long corridor, walking up fifteen steps in the green door. There are lots of people standing around. They’re bandaging his eyes – ooh – Doctor, Doctor what does it mean?” “Well,” said the psychiatrist, “if they ain’t playing blind man’s bluff he’s in real trouble.
Baba sent his brother a birthday cake, air mail. He wanted him to get it while the candles were still burning.