The Modern Curmudgeon

My script, well received, yet a few

Notes that I've got to go through

And they're running behind,

"So Jon, if you don't mind,

Could you punch up the first five scripts too?"

"I'm going to work" he explained The shirt he'd put on that day "Well you look to me Quite like a worker bee" "Actually, Dad, he said, "worker A."

Tomorrow I turn 41. What to do once these limericks are done? Will my idle hands seek Out some evil unspeak- able once this new freedom's begun?

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