AD.

I set my happy trap,
flushed ego to zero,
set goal to here, now.

My arrow is a boomerang.

Chain gang works crucible
against grain.
I got plumb tongue.

Lady K

“You are a fustery man. I love you.”

Ditto, dudess.

“You’re not parallel to the x or y axis. You’re an oblique asymptote.”

I’m the axis of even, the Wizard of Odd.

“Oh, dear. Ah, a curve can intersect its asymptote, even infinitely many times. I’ll be your curve. You had all this stuff, didn’t you? You had Calculus.”

I had all that stuff.

“I’m thinking I should practice some math. Just to make sure I still have it. I used to do Calculus problems for fun. I’m really crazy.”

I reduce my mathematical functions to off/on, stop/go, yes/no, now/not now.

“I like that. You’re binary.”

I’m binary. Yes. I’m the Six Billionth Binary Man.

“Hello, Unit One.”

I want to be Unit Zero.

“I am Unit Zero. Take me to your leader. Are you my leader?”

I’m your leader. I used to be a quart, but now I’m a liter.

This is the kind of humor Groucho Marx used.

“Do you think he smoked?”

I think he smoked. I read about him doing some acid.

Time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana.

“I like that one. That’s like a popping tile pattern.”

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