They say sitting on the fence hurt your behind. I’ll like very much to hold my thought on that for I do not think my behind hurts. I however believe they (my behind I mean) have become flat and that fact hurts more than anything and everything. You see, I am from a race that favour a little, no, a lot, a lot of flesh on the behind.

I do a lot of sitting on the fence and I dare say I am the term “sitting on the fence itself” and writing this, I am literally sitting on the fence. I am rich today but trust this silver-spooned mouth; I will none of that wealth have tomorrow. For I would have blown it all and then I would be poor again, poorer than the church rat because the church rat at least gets to feast on crumbs and gets to save a little of those for rainy and sunny days; I, none.

However, I am most days on the fence, neither poor nor rich. When I am on the fence, I favour no party. I simply envy the rich and pity the poor.


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