Check Off One Orchard

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Strongside/Weakside: Jurgen Klinsmann

Despite leading the U.S. men’s national team through the so-called “Group of Death” in the 2014 World Cup, Jurgen Klinsmann has come under heavy criticism this week after his side finished fourth in the 2015 Gold Cup. Is he any good?

How Apple Plans To Rebound From Apple Watch Flop

With sales of the Apple Watch reportedly down 90 percent since its initial release, Apple is suffering in the wearables market and faces a lack of enthusiasm about its latest product. Here are some ways Apple can improve the watch and prevent the company from falling into a slump:
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Just Like Everything Else!: Fox 8 p.m. EDT/7 p.m. ABC Pete's wife is still on him about building that darn shed, these kids are going to be the death of Sheila and Dave, and the hot next-door neighbor is up in EVERYBODY'S business! Sunday nights on ABC couldn't be any more familiar!

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    ELIZABETH, NJ—Moments after losing his composure with an unwarranted emotional outburst, local father David Kessler reportedly apologized to his son Christopher Thursday for erroneously taking out his anger on him and not his older brother Peter.

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  • Guards Gun Down Four Angels Escaping From Heaven

    THE HEAVENS—Killing four and critically wounding several others, armed guards dispatched from the Right Hand of God reportedly opened fire early Monday morning on a group of angels attempting to escape from heaven. One of the Eternal Kingdom’s...

Check Off One Orchard

Well, my month-long travail as an enormous cock-roach has ended, and not one God-damned minute too soon! Though I truly enjoyed the benefits of insect life, such as the adhering to walls, the brisk scuttling, and the ability to eat the toe-nail parings of others, it did begin to wear on me after a while. Between the fondness I developed for dank, cramped under-sink areas and the attempts on my life by my staff, being a cock-roach was becoming a decidedly unnerving ordeal.

I will spare you the tedious details of how I returned to man-form. But I awoke that day to find that business had been neglected!

An atmosphere of despair and lassitude pervaded my 652-room estate, and the staff languished about in the most gumptionless fashion it had ever been my displeasure to witness. It was almost as if my strange transformation was part of some sort of sea-change, as everyone at my estate felt with their bare nerves the tragedy of human life: its slow, cruel path from birth to death, the brevity of joy, the impossibility of dreams, and all that malarkey that gets in the way of having the meals served on time.

I summoned Standish and demanded an account of things. His explanation was as depressing as it was amazing.

"Sir," he said, his eyes wandering to the window, where even now a fell Autumn light had grayed the sky, "the house-hold is in anguish over the fate of the cherry orchard which your father's Muscovite half-brother, U. Vanya Zweibel, had planted behind the mansion. For generations, its sad beauty has haunted us. But due to our fading news-paper fortunes during your recent illness, we may need to chop the orchard down, cut the land into lots, and lease them out for summering-cottages to guarantee an income for the estate. We must have porridge. But would we not break our own hearts if we were to raze the beloved orchards where we used to run barefoot in the too-brief spring?"

As I write this, the happy ring of axes can be heard through-out my estate, and I look forward to a respectable cash influx very soon. As for those mopes in my house-hold, all they needed was good hard work to rouse them from their stupor! Now, if only Standish would quit muttering, "Forgotten... and no one can remember it," under his breath all the time, I would be content for the first time in a damned month!