rumitoid

Jimmy Taylor passed out drunk at his. We carried him down to the subway at four in the morning naked and handcuffed him to the end seat (there is a railing there). New York coppers have a sense of humor: they chipped in for a cab home. But I bring this up because Jimmy said to me that night--yes, he was drunk but still--Jeanne was his freedom. They are still together sixty years later. I think I know he meant by freedom: a release from the tiresome and lonely bondage of only taking care for oneself.

For any of you guys thinking of marriage, examine what that Bachelor Party means to you. It may save you years of hardship and regret.