I'm lucky. Usually you're dead to get your own museum, but I'm still alive to see mine.
I don't know (if they were men or women running naked across the field). They had bags over their heads.
It gets late early out there.
There are some people who, if they don't already know, you can't tell 'em.
It's like deja-vu, all over again.
How can a you hit and think at the same time?