I forget the things I want to remember and remember the things I want to forget...It's tough being old...

Sometimes those experiences crowd back upon the memory, and the past flashes back like a distant peak momentarily lighted up by sunbeam piercing through the clouds. Then oblivion again. Strange it is how the prosaic present may hide the exciting past.

Our senses inform us of the colour, weight, and consistence of bread; but neither sense nor reason can ever inform us of those qualities which fit it for the nourishment and support of a human body.

Knock yourself out... Or rather, don't.

What do you call a couple of clowns with ex-lax? Shits & Giggles

I don't suppose you would consider peaceful surrender?