A Bore's Head

Take a mass of unleavened egotism. Chop a cupful of trite conversational chestnuts into small pieces, shells and all. Add a quart of dry facts, from which the juice of humor has been extracted, and a cupful of dates, stuffed with statistics. Stir in — very slowly — a pint of personal anecdote from which all imagination has been strained.

Flavor with the essence of complete indifference to anybody’s taste but your own.

Pour into a mould stamped with your own image, and turn on to a platter garnished with plenty of thyme.

This dish has frequently appeared at social functions of the Rich and Great.

I have given you the rules — it is for you to avoid following them.