neither cleanliness nor godliness do I abide

neither cleanliness nor godliness do I abide rather yours truly doth thrive on keeping the ethos, mythos, and pathos of Pigpen alive subjected to eternal abomination, brutalization, condemnation, damnation, emasculation, humiliation, ostracization, who one day envisions himself as a decrepit solitudinarian an aging long haired baby boomer, (I seriously contemplate donating about a dozen inches of straggly hair to locks of love, hoping a stylist makes house calls - since anticipatory anxiety wracks these lovely bones at the prospect of setting foot inside a salon) wherefore he might finally cease to be a subject of derision, but please do not chide, a sexagenarian whose bruised ego experienced more'n lifetime worth of rejection, whose first three plus decades (approximately half my existence) of mein kampf livingsocial I gingerly elide where persona non grata of Charlie Brown (essentially portrayed as a loser) on his keister he did glide cuz unkind behavior demonstrated by Lucy Van Pelt without fail always pulls away the football disclosing her character, who harbors spitefulness inside earning her another point of maliciousness notated on the figurative blackboard, when I chalked up and kreide. The Peanuts gallery populated pleasure reading during mine boyhood as well as the Little Engine that Could, whose disposition evinced a solitary lad never delinquent except one attempt to get caught shoplifting a yoyo at Ames Department store in Lansdale, but other than that amazingly as all good boys do fine. Matter of fact quite few other comic strips ranked as my favorite back when I read the Philadelphia Inquirer Sunday edition approximately two thirds of threescore and three years ago (approximately half life of Matthew Scott Harris) I cannot forget other comic strip titled Andy Capp, Beetle Bailey, Berkeley Breathed, Blondie, Brenda Starr Reporter, Calvin and Hobbes Dennis the Menace, Dilbert, The Far Side, For Better or For Worse, Frank and Earnest, Fred Basset, Garfield, Hägar the Horrible, Mutt and Jeff, Nancy, Pogo, Shoe, The Family Circus, Tumbleweeds, The Lockhorns, The Wizard of Id, and Ziggy. So many choices availed themselves regarding how to while away my leisure hours during those fleeting twenties, thirties, and forties of mine, but yours truly (me) frequently, easily, and decidedly found contentment then and now among the rank and file of other not ready for prime time players soaking up newsworthy morsels and if not reading aforementioned material than appeasing the insatiable bookworm holed up within corporeal complex edifice housing these lovely bones cerebrally feasting on a favorite genre possibly fulfilling hunger for historical fiction or miscellaneous nonfiction.