The meaning of life
Dear Diary,
Once a week my dad comes by the office and we go out and have
a nice lunch. After eating we drive to a park and have a cigar.
While sitting on the bench my dad and I have discussed all sorts
of things, but this week when he started talking about the
meaning of life I paid extra close attention.
"TZ," he said squinting into the sun, "it’s easy to figure out
what the meaning of life is. One just has to examine the natural
world to find the answers."
"What, like mountains and rivers and stuff like that?" I asked
confused.
My dad looked at me the way Clint Eastwood looked at Eli Wallach
as he was about to be hung in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
(Eli Wallach was The Ugly). "Damn, son. You should have eaten
more fish when you were young. No, I mean lower animals as
distinguished from man."
"Huh?"
"Why do birds sing? Why do peacocks prance? Why do lions fight?
It all comes down to attracting a mate... It all comes down to
*****."
It hit me like a ton of bricks. Dad was right. The meaning of
life is *****.
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