During the seven years my family spent in public housing, my buddies and I had some of our greatest adventures in a wooded area we called “The Pasture.” We had an opportunity to play war and jungle games because there were unlimited hiding places and if we had a moment of bravery, we could cross the creek and never be found.
A woman walked up to the supervising pharmacist in a major drug store and said, “You are the top guy here are you not?”
“Yes,” said the man, wearing a long white hospital looking coat.
“Well,” said the woman, “I need a big bottle of arsenic.”
Sometimes I have weird dreams. It’s not my fault. In one of my congressionally based dreams, I spotted former congressional staffer Rip Van Winkle sitting in the House barbershop getting a haircut, and, because of his eight inch beard, getting a much needed shave.