And I miss them and shall keep on missing them.

But no longer do I yearn for cream in my coffee, now that it is out of it, and I am getting reconciled to dry toast for breakfast, where once upon a time only members of the justly famous Flap Jackson family seemed to satisfy.
Of course I imbibe alcoholic stimulant when and where procurable.

From the standpoint of one intent upon cutting a few running feet off the waistline measurements this distinctly is wrong, as full well I know.

But what would you?
I do not wish to pose as an eccentric.

I have no desire to be pointed out as a person aiming to make himself conspicuously erratic by behaving differently from the run of his fellows.