Perhaps it was noblesse oblige. You two are interchangeable parts, and besides, you were mixed up the week you were born, and nobody knows which you are; you don't know yourself. Do you permit that, Ira? Suppression of research? I don't interfere, Lazarus. It seemed the best answer to an otherwise impossible situation, but one not as irreversible as a parachute jump if she got too lonely, i
Years and years of that, then she announced that she was retiring-and I was stunned. Perhaps I should have used Rosalynn Carter’s brilliant response to a similar question in 1976: “If I had, I wouldn’t tell you. Or Ishtar mixed up your genes, which she didn't. But one wonders why he did not continue in the same vein with the cheerfully bawdy triple pun available in
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