Once there was a little boy. When he was three weeks old his parents turned him over to a baby-sitter.
When he was two years old, they dressed him up like a cowboy, and gave him a gun.
When he was three, everybody said, "Ain't he cute!" as he went around lisping a beer commercial
When he was six, his father occasionally dropped him off at Sunday School on his way to the golf course.
When he was eight, his parents bought him a BB gun, and taught him to shoot birds. He learned to shoot windshields himself.
When he was ten, he spent his afternoon time squatting at the drugstore newsstand reading comic books. His mother wasn't at home, and his father was very busy.
When he was thirteen, he told his parents other boys stayed out as late as they wanted to, so they said he could too. It was much easier that way.
When he was fourteen, the police called his home very late one night.
"We have your boy here at the police station," they said. "He's in big trouble".
"In trouble?" screamed the father. "It can't be my boy!"
My little brother just asked, "Why are people so nice to the people who are about to die?"
As we stood in formation at the Pensacola Naval Air Station, our Flight Instructor said, "All right! All you idiots fall out."
Two friends and I ordered sandwiches in a local joint.
"The price good men pay for indifference to public affairs is to be ruled by evil men."