“American Gods” portrays immigration as culture, religion as deception, but also fate as manipulation. Its narrative failings complement its philosophical heights, but also vice versa. For both religion and literature require some degree of suspension of disbelief; the intersection is appropriately mythology.

“Things I’ve Learned from Women Who’ve Dumped Me” is 4 parts comedy, 1 part wisdom. That doesn’t factor in the fraction of the essays which unfortunately fail, nor the percentage discount for purchasing it.

Breakup breakdown.

I would have given her Sims2 if I loved or hated her more, to either present her something she wanted or to ruin her life. But instead, I just didn’t care.

Categorical imperative.

How about, no one gets put in concentration camps?

When I think about the future I live in the past.
When I don’t think about the future I live in the present.

Making lists of over 64 things.

I was going to put ‘Tell the truth’ but I didn’t have enough space in that column.
Probably for the best.

Rec over.

A full blueberry pie sat in a tin next to a white saucer holding a crumbled last slice of apple, like a postsecret whose caption would read, “I don’t actually want to be a lawyer.”.

Having had convenient excuses for why I haven’t any of the past years, I finally attend inventory, capping a long day with a session of taking stock, correcting counts, and free pizza.

All productions of Hamlet differ because all depend on the portrayal and the perception of madness.

“Can you take a 15 minute break to help me bring some dead plants into the Hotchner?”
What? I can’t hear you.
“Are you at the bookstore? Can you bring some dead plants into the Hotchner?”
Bring some what?
“Dead plants into the Hotchner. Nevermind.”
No, wait, I can help- I just can’t hear what you’re saying. It sounds like dead plants.
“I am.”
Ah. I’ll be right out. Where are you?
“Chicago.”

“Hello, darkness…”

Silence is a form of communication.

“…The sound of silence…”

“Brother and sister, together we'll make it through…”

Blindsided at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

“…They are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future…”

Payments for web service may cost an arm and a leg.

"T. Reich was pulled to earth through a dimensional portal from a dimension of Nazi dinosaurs. He briefly wreaks havoc in the downtown before being driven back to his home dimension by a housecat which changes sizes when agitated."

R[]’s Advice
1) This is not a problem.
2) The solution is a threeway.

I have no interest in watching whether he will realize that she won't put out before she realizes that she will.

A friend encourages you to go after this cute blonde you just met.
A good friend encourages you to go after this cute blonde you just met so you’ll get over your ex.
A bad friend encourages you to go after this cute blonde you just met so you’ll get over your ex so that obstacle for him will be removed.

“I feel so unnecessary.”

There’s a gradient between dance party and music practice.

I only go to songmeanings to look at stupid people revealing that they do not understand a song.

It’s been a bad month.
“What happened?”
You don’t really want me to answer.
“I didn’t realize it until you said it; yeah, I was really hoping you wouldn’t.”
I’m touched that you pretended to care.

Honest communication is an evocation of the speaker, not the audience.

In which L[] takes a page out of the anti-vapid book: ‘Well, I don't know about that. I'm fine with it; it's just really ephemeral.’
I will respect someone more who says, ‘In which L[] takes a page out of the anti-vapid book’ than, ‘Well. I don't know about that. I'm fine with it; it's just really ephemeral’.’

Extra special order.

I just had the Wait, what’s B[]’s last name? moment.
LOL
I’m confused. Is A[] a stripper?
lol Not as good as What's B[]'s last name?, though.

Certain names are verbs, allowing a name (Clive Staples Lewis) to become a sentence. Less remarkable are last names (Brooke Shields) which strain the bounds of transitivity. Rare are the fortunate ones (Mark Felt) whose first and last names are both verbs, allowing multiple possible sentences.

I have none.
Clearly, this is why you need more friends.

Quirk is established in slight exaggeration.

I can express what I need to express, and only those who understand me will understand me.

Hyperbole is the compensation for the loss of experience in communication.

((4! + 4)/4)^sqrt4 = 4! + 4! + 4/4 = (4 + 4 - tan (pi/4))^sqrt4

Number families.

More horizontal than vertical.

“Synthesize, organize, assuage, rutabage.”

Part to part to whole to whole.

Now I'm only trying to figure out whether we can have a metametonymnym.

“Dating, like the tyrant, seeks perfection (within a certain price range). Whereas the heart, like the eye, can only cling to imperfections: her funny stride, and the way her voice breaks, child-like, on the phone. And so the dater, self-baffling, seeks what the heart cannot understand. We must stop dating. But we can't.”

The past is dated.

“The only way to stop dating is to fall in love. But how, under conditions of dating, would this be possible? You are affected by all the dates you've been on, the relationships you've had. The pain you've inflicted binds you to the people who bore the brunt of it.”

Where's that from: 'I like you…kuleles'?
"I just like ukuleles. I didn't get it from anywhere."
I was afraid of that. Well, now you know what keeps me up at night.

Dreams are art without a soundtrack.

"Yeah, I look up youtubes of ukuleles at night."
Now I know what keeps you up at night.

Underwhelming: The Epic Continues.

Turnover prior to halftime.

Or maybe, Disappointing: The Last Battle.

“Have you ever seen a one trick pony…”

Wrestler is a struggle towards a tragically predictable ending. A stoic can take on any hurt and not feel it, except the hurt they themself inflict, and those hurts become self-inflicted as everything changes except self-identity. It should be so easy to halt, but in a contrived world that has glimmered with glory for too many decades, reality and phoniness become so indistinguishable to the observer and to the self, that physical pain leads to emotional torment. Any political or religious overtone is coincidental. The world is fake. The world hurts.

“…Tell me, friend, can you ask for anything more…”

Emotional investment is required to enjoy a spectator sport, but it need not be the spectator’s emotion. Another’s, be it stoic endurance or passionate outburst, will suffice as conduit.

1) It’s a home team.
2) They’re the underdogs.
3) I have family in Philadelphia.
4) I’m rooting against R[].
This is easy.