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Parents aren't supposed to have favorites, but of these three cartoons, I like the personal masseuse one best. I thought of this while walking through Times Square recently when an organ grinder's monkey jumped on my back and began searching my pockets for valuables. He eventually found my wallet and opened it, but after finding nothing more valuable in it than an old bus pass, he threw it down and moved on to the next passerby. This kind of scenario is one reason I don't carry valuables. The other is that I don't have any.
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My next offering is about a plant who is tired of watching "Golden Girls" reruns. For my readers who are either not acquainted with trends in the gay community or who think that homosexuality is an abomination unto the lord and don't associate with them, "Golden Girls" is an immensely popular series among American gays. Maybe elsewhere, too. Something about Bea Arthur sends them into squeals of joy. I like Bea Arthur too, although I strongly suspect I am not gay.
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Enjoy the rest of your Tuesday. You are always on my mind.