Bored at home the other day I excitedly thought, "I know what I'll do! I'll continue reading Atlas Shrugged because I'm really getting into it and it makes me mad about injustice and stuff even though I'm not really sure what sort of injustice I'm mad about but that's what's making it great plus Ayn Rand is smart and I need to be doing something that makes me feel in some way attached to intelligence." But then I thought, "Wait a second, I have the entire show tonight to read, I should really watch TV now. I mean, I can read any old time, books are portable, but I can only watch television at home." I see where my priorities are beginning to lie. So much for being smart.
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The Mixed Up Files of Mr. Mister
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