He Was A Writer And Words Were

I Think I'm What They Call A Never-was.

Charlie Had Sophie Strapped To His Chest Like A Terrorist Baby Bomb When He Came Down The Back Steps. She Had Just Gotten To The Point Where She Could Hold Up Her Head, So He Had Strapped Her In Face-out So She Could Look Around. The Way Her Arms And Legs Waved Around As Charlie Walked, She Looked As If She Was Skydiving And Using A Skinny Nerd As A Parachute.

Compliment But Do Not Covet.

I Love You Above All Things, Even Pie.

For A While He'd Tried Molding Himself Into The Tragic Romantic Hero, Brooding And Staring Clench-jawed Off Into Space As He Composed Dark Verse In His Head. But It Turned Out That Trying To Appear Tragic In Incontinence, Indiana, Was Redundant, And His Mother Kept Shouting At Him And Making Him Forget His Rhymes. "tommy, If You Keep Grinding Your Teeth Like That, They'll Wear Away And You'll Have To Have Dentures Like Aunt Ester." Tommy Only Wished His Beard Was As Heavy As Aunt Ester's---then He Could Stare Out Over The Moors While He Stroked It Pensively.