On shirts you can only wear standing up.

An actor made rich by an award-winning series
was hospitalized briefly for mercury poisoning
due to eating sushi three times a day

and we are told to pity him.

A prostitute from the local corner
died of a nasty venereal disease
due to a lack of education

and "She got what she deserved."

There is no level playing field
when it comes to occupational hazards.
There is no crying in baseball.
There's not much left to salvage from the wreckage
of a place where three inches can be added
to your manhood for a cool six grand.

I tell you now, friend:
many a hooker, many a whore
have gone undeclared
the difference being
we paid way too much for them.

But don't worry;
anything's good slathered in ketchup--
even the demise of a culture's
better judgment.

Please refrain from comparing me
to Humanity
in future correspondence.

This has been a test
of the Emergency Broadcast System.
Had this not been a test
you'd already be dead.

It's a case of that End of the World Syndrome;
there aren't enough who have that -itis bad enough.

I'll tell you what happened to Marv, Jim:
they ran him 'til there was nothing left.

And all the rest you scoff at
as wishful thinking?
You're wrong.
It's a reenactment

so while you're at it
stay away from the guy in the trench coat
drinking scotch at the end of the bar--
it's probably the Devil
again.