When you have managed to get everyone arguing, angrily, it's time to hop onto a bus and leave them to it.
What a useless hypnotist he was, but I'll have to hop around to his place and ask him how I get my big toe out of my earhole.
A tiny bit paranoid, perhaps, but why does every cloud treat me like I'm a plant that needs watering?
If there are directions for the obvious, then it is obvious that there are the oblivious who need directions for the obvious. *e.g.: keep hands and feet out from under a running lawnmower* *on a Bleach bottle: Do Not Swallow.*