A long time ago, in a strange and foreign land, there lived a king. One day the King’s carriage was passing through a crowd of peasants.

In the crowd was the man they called The Village Idiot, because back in those days they didn’t know about psychiatry or political correctness.  

The man had a serious mental illness.  He was unable to speak, but would spent most of his time laughing for no apparent reason.  Sometimes just a titter, at others, an uncontrollable guffaw.  

   When the royal carriage passed through the crowd, some citizens bowed, and others stood at respectful attention. The only sound was the idiot laughing his head off.

The king took great insult at this outrageous disrespect, and had his guards immediately arrest him.

The king’s counsel, who was very wise, said, “Oh great king, show your divine mercy on this poor devil. He is only a simpleton, and knows not what he does, or where he is.”

The king commanded, “Then being in the dungeon will make little difference. Throw him in, right now!”

Which they did.

This dungeoun was a terrible place with unbelievably horrible conditions. A great many people were in there for a variety of reasons, and they were all extremely miserable.

Except for the idiot. He laughed day and night, and seemed to be having a grand old time, to the annoyance of everyone else.

Be that idiot.



Advice from a failure.

No matter how bad the hand, you can always bluff.



A person at rest will stay at rest, until acted upon by an outside force,

and a person in motion, will stay in motion, until acted upon by an outside force.

Every day is a special occasion.

How not to be too smart for your own good.


When life poops on you, rejoice and exclaim, “Hey, free fertilizer!”