I am walking over hot coals suspended over a deep pit at the bottom of which are a large number of vipers baring their fangs. – John Major
Funny line goes here when I think of one
He rarely understood other people’s sarcasm.
“Can I get you a coat?”
The old man knew where she lived and he knew he had caught up with her just as she reached her own house.
A gooood looking woman. Hell, practically spectacular for this neighborhood. Can’t imagine her husband looked anything like she does.
These couples been married so long, practically indecipherable from one another. Assume she’s the one with the halter top.
But damn if he don’t need a halter of his own.
The old man had been chasing her, he admitted it. No shame, the chasing game.
And he’d be damned if he let some old broad in sandals pull away from him.
What he heard was, “Can I get you a Coke?”
The old man was listening to Pelham 123 and he didn’t hear so good anyway. So, what was this buxom babe up to?
No, thanks, big breath, no, I’m happily married, I could never taste your coke.
I said, ‘Can I get you a coat?’
Oh. I get it now. Sarcasm.
You got on long pants and a long-sleeved shirt and a kerchief and it’s over a hundred degrees out here.
The sun is not my friend, I told her. Be honest, I’ve learned to slow to a crawl in the shade.
Put my head down and went right back into the subway tunnel.
I treat the heat the same way I handle pain and aging.
It’s gonna hurt, it’s not gonna be pretty. You can deal with it or you can quit.
Hot don’t scare me, hurt don’t scare me.
Getting old? Bring it on.
Don’t make me laugh.
Okay. I’ll laugh.
HaHaHaHa!
The last laugh.
But as Hölderlin said, “Where the danger is, also grows the saving power.”