Some days it don't pay to get up. What do you suppose snake handlers do on their day off? Boys, I've got better things to do than....
Wait a minute! No, I don't. I don't have a single thing to do. Oh, I could write a song. I could cut the grass. We all know that there are too many songs in the world as it is and I've written more than my fair share. The grass? I don't need to tell you that it will grow right back.
The Christian work ethic was a cruel hoax. I hope I may serve as a bad example to a few of you aspiring layabouts and ne'er-do-wells. Celebrate with me. Tell 'em you're meditating or something.
Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.
I don't mow the lawn until those big tufts here and there grow together and become A Lawn. Or my neighbors start putting out their bets on whether I'll cut it before 4th of July. A couple have put their kids through Real Estate College on the winnings.
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