Deteriorata

Go placidly amid the noise and waste, and remember what comfort there may be
in owning a piece thereof. 

Avoid quiet and passive persons, unless you are in need of sleep. 

Rotate your tires. 

Speak glowingly of those greater than yourself, and heed well their advice, even
though they be turkeys.

Know what to kiss, and when. Consider that two wrongs never make a right, but
that three do.

Wherever possible, put people on hold. Be comforted, that in the face of all
aridity and disillusionment, and despite the changing fortunes of time, there is
always a big future in computer maintenance.

Remember the Pueblo.

Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle and mutilate.

Know yourself. If you need help, call the F.B.I.

Exercise caution in your daily affairs, specially with those persons closest to
you; that lemon on your left, for instance.

Be assured that a walk through the ocean of most souls will scarcely get your
feet wet.

Fall not in love therefore; it will stick to your face. Gracefully surrender the
things of youth; birds, clean air, tuna, Taiwan. And let not the sands of time
get into your lunch.

Hire people with hooks. For a good time, call 606-4311. Ask for Ken.

Take heart in the deepening gloom that your dog is finally getting enough
cheese.

And reflect that whatever misfortune may be your lot, it could only be worse in
Milwaukee.

You are a fluke of the universe. You have no right to be here. And whether you
can hear it or not, the universe is laughing behind your back.

Therefore, make peace with your god, whatever you conceive him to be -- hairy
thunderer or cosmic muffin.

With all its hopes, dreams, promises, and urban renewal, the world continues to
deteriorate.

Give up.

Writers of National Lampoon Magazine ®