You got a job?" "Ignatius hasta help me at home," Mrs. Reilly said. Her initial courage was failing a little, and she began to twist the lute string with the cord on the cake boxes. "I got terrible arthuritis." "I dust a bit," Ignatius told the policeman. "In addition, I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.

Once a person was asked to step into this brutal century, anything could happen

with the breakdown of the medieval system, the gods of chaos, lunacy, and bad taste gained ascendancy.

Oh, Fortuna, you capricious sprite!

employers sense in me a denial of their values...they fear me. i suspect that they can see that i am forced to function in a century which i loathe.

I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.

Apparently I lack some particular perversion which today's employer is seeking.