“I’m out of time…”
Only one resource is not renewable.
“…I want somebody to speed it up for me, then take it down slow…”
Only time and what others do are beyond control.
“…If you want it, you already got it / If you’ve thought it, it better be what you want…”
Only by second-guessing a decision can what is truly wanted be known.
“…Sometimes I think what I need is a you intervention…”
Only fresh eyes see the obvious.
“….And that it’s good, by the way that you move…”
Only movement defeats inertia.
“…The road to hell is paved with good intentions…”
Only by considering motivation does consideration outweigh action.
“…Tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock / Breakdown…”
Writer’s block only becomes significant when some other choice takes precedent over the purpose of the words.
“…Only got 4 minutes to save the world…”

Epiphany: the idea of telling a story.

“She saw herself reflected in the store window & then the sun changed & she disappeared & all she could see was her eyes & she remembered thinking, I make a very nice floor lamp & that was the day she decided to quit her job.”

“A good bookshop is just a genteel black hole that knows how to read."

“Sometimes I get nervous when I see an open door…”

To skydive: with parachute strapped on, take a breath and a step, and come down to earth again.

“…Close your eyes / Clear your heart / Cut the cord…”

“Let's dance to Joy Division / And celebrate the irony…”

I hate songs that have dissonant components, unless done right.

“…Everything is going wrong, but we're so happy…”

I am especially excited about the “& Tea” portion.

Let the rest follow a seat and a sip.

If I ever run a British tea shoppe, it’s going to be called Passersby & Onlookers.

Punctuators Anonymous.

I have to restrain myself from adding semicolons in casual conversation.
I put a backslash in my resume.

Serve me up a Frosted Mini-Wheat, barman: heavy on the mini, hold the frosted.

It's sad, the moment you realize something isn't perfect. I suppose I was idealizing, so I guess maybe it's good that I've shattered that now. It's like, when special guest actor returns for an episode, and it's awesome, and then the episode is winding up and character makes some plot reason why they're getting written back out, and you're like, but, can't you stay just a little longer, special guest actor? Look how much fun we're having? Can't we keep hanging out some more? Because I had forgotten how much I missed you until I heard your voice again, so why is your voice going so soon?

All children, except one, grow up.

I had to explain to someone what the bees’ knees were. Would you rather have the head of Al Gore, or use outdated expressions in everyday speech?

With A Special Guest Appearance by the Voice of Danny as Himself

Would that I wrote cover letters like I write e-mails and bad poetry.

No hamster just yet. Got some chocolate cake instead. This is a haiku.

I shall be deleting this unheard
Somewhere hours and hours hence.
Two cover letters diverged in Word,
And I- unsure which is preferred.
And yet, it may make no difference.

There is good bad poetry and there is bad bad poetry, and “B is for Bad Poetry” is 80% the former. Indeed, I wish to see a neofuturistic recital of its appreciable contents.

A long way away fling
Everything
Higher I aspired to, one spring,
Untie. (A knotty string.)

“I go crazy, crazy, baby, I go crazy…”

Crazy expands to fill the available space.

“…Packing up your stuff / And talking like it's tough / And trying to tell me that it's time to go…”

“Love game, intuition, play the cards…”

In a perfect world, forethought or luck earns reward. In an imperfect world, it’s procrastination or unluckiness. Anything wagered is with hope of compensation: put up with a risk, receive a reward of money- or prestige, or time, or a good experience, or even just learning one of life’s lessons. But reward is distinct from earning. For sometimes the best hand wins; sometimes the best played hand wins, and ranking isn’t an orderly progression based on probability.

In a perfect world, there are no games; only games.

“…Can’t read my / No he can’t read my poker face…”

Vaguely foggy is whatever the opposite of an oxymoron is.

“Heads I go to class, tails I skip.”
<coin lands heads>
“Best 2 of 3?”
<coin lands heads>
“Best 3 of 5?”
<coin lands edge and rolls under a fixture>
“God’s like, go to class already.”

The trick is to go at it with no pressure. That, and just do it anyway even when it’s not as effective or good.

“It will stop beeping if you close the door or it gets bored.”

“You’re allowed to walk out of one place. Any more than that establishes a reputation. But you get one.”

Meatloaf may be well and good and cleverly creatively savory, but clearly the answer which would make everyone happy is cupcakery.

“My perfect woman would be a 28 year old Julia Child.”

When having words with friends, informational and conversational correctness are 2 different concepts. Context can make something pedantically accurate incredibly wrong.

Taking communion is not kosher for Passover. Either transubstantiation is false, and therefore it's leavened. Or transubstantiation is true, and therefore it's risen.

Of course, a Jew can't have a happy Easter, since it contains yeast during Passover.

“For the benefit of Mr. Kite / There will be a show tonight on trampoline…”

Bouncing up, bouncing up.

“…The celebrated Mr. K / Performs his feat on Saturday and Bishopsgate…”

Thanks for inviting. It’s an honor to be asked.

“…Misters K and H assure the public / Their production will be second to none…”

We are gentlemen. So I’ve heard.

“…Ten somersaults he'll undertake on solid ground…”

Roll out, roll out.

“…A splendid time is guaranteed for all…”

“It's not worth being awake unless you are having fun or being productive.”

Bedtime story.

And they lived happily ever after probably in Chicago. The end.

It’s funny because it’s true.

A man walks into a bar and sees a nun spinning wool behind the counter. The man asks for a drink, but the nun just obliviously keeps on spinning. The man waits a few moments and asks for a drink again, but she’s just keeps on spinning. The man asks a third time, louder, but she just goes on spinning obliviously. Not sure what to do, he shouts at her to stop spinning and pour him a drink. The nun looks up and says… “This is becoming a habit.”

How lazy can I be.

“We’ll start the Seder on page 9. Ignore all the stuff about Thomas Jefferson and Abraham Lincoln on page 8.”

Go around the table and state your name and an uninteresting fact about yourself.

“How are we passing? Clockwise, counterclockwise?”
“By age? Height?”
”Alphabetically?”
“Yes.”

The moral of Passover: In case of emergency, break lamb.

Love to flirt, hate to date.

Will Eno plays are strangely appropriate to be hijacked into freely seeing by virtue of bearing free cookies.

And now for something completely different.

Taking too much validation-needing pleasure in subversively placing a small copy of Machiavelli on a Saint-Exupery endcap.

“Only children know what they are looking for.”

If I get evicted or killed before March 31, I’m blaming the Commerce Department.

“How quickly can you mobilize?”
For free ice cream? Immediately.

What do I do normally.

“You got to stop once in a while / And shake off that face of yours…”

Past time for a new look.

“…I'm no genius and I've lost myself / The books are on the table and the secret's on the shelf…”

“Meet me on the equinox…”

So done with this season.

“…Everything, everything ends…”

Like a poker tournament, life every so often advances to a new stage, where blinds increase, lower denominations get cashed out as irrelevant, and the previous wagers feel inconsequential compared to what currently is at stake. What really matters gets honed and pared away the longer one stays in the game. And yet, the truth that takes the entirety to discover is that the value of the markers is immaterial. What really matters is longevity. The only true currency is time.

Never has $5 seemed so worthless.

Ou la la, notre madamoiselle est, qu’est ce c’est, abroad? Mon dieu! Voilà, le “C[] Is Too Good For This” Petit Dejeuner:

“Puis je comment allez vous” croissants.

“Je m’appelle Louis Pasteurizé“ milk.

“Comme ci comme ça avec mon coeur” omelette.

“Il y a un beaucoup des au revoir” crepes.

“Parlez vous la bibliotheque de ma tante des pourquoi plus cette chemise sur la tableau” French toast.

Rather be lucky than good; but rather feel good than lucky.

Yesterday’s opportunities will be here tomorrow. Today is today.

Jon’s Principle of Non-non-confrontation
If there’s something which for the relationship’s sake you’re keeping yourself from saying to someone, then for the relationship’s sake say it.

Come to bury, not to praise.

$2000 elephant stuffed animal!
Haha FAO?
Museum gift shop.

In the nether hour between last and next season, the mammoth perfection of this past refreshingly awesomely fun week comes full circle. Let that not end.

Also, on bus back to STL. (Me, not the elephant.)

Saw Alice in Wonderland. There is no theme of drugs and just a forced red herring theme of dreams, but much more forced is the story about a girl’s relationship with a paternal figure. For this is a story about a girl’s rejection of patriarchial society; as much as Johnny Depp may be the Mad Hatter, he should not be so central a character. Alice’s strongest connection should be with the White Queen. Although, having spent most of the movie trying to decide whether I liked or didn’t like the un-Carrollian plot, I ultimately decided the former; but more importantly, at no point was there doubt about whether I enjoyed it, with unfading smiles worthy of a worthy Cheshire Cat.

Too Much Light or a spritz of water directly in the face Makes The Baby Go Blind provided it gets there in time to get one and just one ticket.

Mimesophobia I was at first worried would, being so meta, duplicate too much the ideas that I had, ironically titularly. But fortunately the play explored that different conflict- the competition of narrative between every author except the subject.

Why is there a dinosaur in the back seat?
“Because R[] has an ex-bf in Romania.”

A Brontosaur on Pluto is like showing up on the doorstop asking to wash out the bloodstains from a misstep twixt station and train; like a free doughnut on the way to getting a good taco salad, repaying when a taco salad got you good; like reading on the concerte shore of Lake Michigan with skyscrapers drifting in the fog to the notes of Viva La Vida as the March sun shines a peek of 70F warmth; like pulling up chairs when the host isn't there; like getting an extra umbrella because it's no longer raining; like finding excuses to stay; like finding reasons to leave; like that hedgehog story that everyone has.

A Brontosaur on Pluto is something that isn’t really somewhere that isn’t really; and therefore it is.

“Go big or go home.”

“I tried to sleep in the rain, underneath an acorn tree, but the drops kept falling, hitting me, as I slipped further unconsciously, into a world of windy dreams…”

Chicago escapism.

“…My mind, I took it to Chicago…”

“Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart / When I want to run away…”

Time for a new look.

“…In your eyes…”

"I don't understand what I'm doing here in the first place! I'm not a writer, I'm a monkey!"
"Would you mind if I sit here till he or she or it comes?"
"A mountain-climber's axe! A mountain-climber's axe! CAN'T I GET THAT THROUGH YOUR SKULL?"
"Corngranulations. Ya kooch di anda. Epp! Viola-dimir da zamplification forum. / Well I'm not sure I'm ready to apply just yet..."
"I go up to the counter, the guy says what can I do for you, I say, Give me a bottle of aspirin. The guy gives me this funny look and he says, 'Oh, we don't have that, sir.'"
"Isn't that / Think it is / Yes I need / Help you sir / Isn't that / Think it is / Yes I need / Help you sir"

All in the timing.

"You can always throw in a few jokes later on. You gotta get the throughline first."
"I like to think of myself as a citizen of the universe. / (Bell.)"
"It gives you a little hope about the world, doesn't it? That a man could have a mountain-climber's axe smashed into his skull, and yet live on for one whole day?"
"Okay, maybe we speak the same language, but it's nonsense!"
"Because in a Philadelphia, no matter what you ask for, you can't get it. You ask for something, they're not going to have it. You want to do something, it ain't going to get done. You want to go somewhere, you can't get there from here."
"Just a moment / It's time / Please / Let's go / Just a moment / It's time / Please / Let's go"

Dolls priced at $3 should not differ only in one certain way from those priced at $5. That ratio has no rationalization.

“You know you can't keep letting it get you down…”

This too shall pass.

“…Let it go…”

“I've got no expectations / To pass through here again…”

Saying that something went as expected depends on the expectation. The tone and the history can each connote contextually, but the response is as much a reflection of the audience as it is of the speaker. The undefined expectation gets accepted without unchallenged so often, it’s rather surprising when the evasion is actually called out with a follow-up.

“Step one, you say…”
One foot in front of the other.
“…We need to talk…”
Interview, and so much unsaid.
“…Begin to wonder why you came…”
Tired of trying to be someone I’m not.
“…Lay down a list of what is wrong…”
After 6 years, where I was 6 years ago: trying to be where I was 6 years ago.
“…Drive until you lose the road / Or break…”
One foot in front of the other.
“…How to save a life…”

Acknowledging the wave, but not getting the buzz.

You can’t judge a song by its cover.

There’s a lot of difference between getting a lot out of this and getting out of this.

Apparently someone is working on the apartment door, but it sounded like there was a sneezing elephant outside my apartment. Now excuse me while I look up sneezing elephants on youtube, because I don't know actually how sneezing elephants sound.

Breakfastfest.

“I remember the song where the rats sang along / And danced for their daily bread…”

Daily: adjective or adverb? Battlelines drawn, and with sanity in the balance, let the daily manner be debated, checked, and proofread with the mindnumbingness of a routine life-changing obsession that probably won’t matter. The scream of “aaaaaah” doesn’t accompany understanding, just grammatical irrevocability.

Give us this day our daily free pancake.

“…And the only thing left / Was to flee from the nest…”

“I look at the floor, and I see it needs sweeping…”

Some things need to be moved, some need moving.

“…I look at the world, and I notice it’s turning…”

Just a little fine tuning.

“…While my guitar gently weeps…”

Secret shopper/agent.

Convergence.

There’s nothing like the feeling that, by pausing to inquire about the possibility of ordering Orangina before approaching the cute girl sitting alone, one has narrowly avoided hitting on the bartender’s gf.

Playing for Team Spoiler.

I like to think that somewhere, somehow, Dara and Siele are happy together.

H.A.L. = Julie Andrews

Chicago is like London, but with less tea and lamb.

I couldn’t tell whether it’s a rock that looks like a potato or a potato that looks like a rock. So I called you.
I thought you called to chat.
Oh, that too. But it was a catalyst.

Win some, lose some.

“I am the passenger…”

I need a day like that every once in a while.

“…And I ride, and I ride…”

I need a night like that every once in a while.

“Tonight I was haunted by some dreams / That we'd never run in the rain together…”

As I drift off to sleep, I realize the one question I didn't want to and don't take pleasure in overanalyzing is: why do I like talking to you? I don't think this is very coherent. I think I want to share it anyhow. Share- that's the word. I talk with you because I share to you and explain to myself. I don't know what it is on your end, if it's different or the same or both. That's probably not a healthy way of holding a conversation, but don't really feel like getting into the how and why. Maybe that's not fair, for both of us. But a green rock is green; if I wanted a green rock, why would I complain that it's not indigo?

“…Don't believe the scientists that tell you what to think…”

I need to live vicariously through someone living vicariously through me.

“…And everything will fit / Into place where it belongs / In time…”

It’s like a pillow fight, only with last week’s New York Times.

If I’m rescheduling MLK Day into the specially designated month of February, I feel I may as well borrow Bing Crosby’s lyrics to be “dreaming of a white” holiday. Though I do wish I had the 3-day weekend, instead of one about 3/5 as long.

Tasteless Mondays return.

Of hiring and retiring.

There are 2 ways to rue:
(1) To review
Obsessively what’s done askew
And (2) To never do.

“There's got to be something better than / In the middle…”

Ask and ye shall receive.

“Any interest in getting a chocolate martini?”
What’s the occasion?
“The occasion is, I need a chocolate martini.”

Weather permitting.

“…With one headlight…”

Spring cleaning is neither.

Use the weather to your advantage.
(That actually sounded like a legitimate tip, actually.)

Happy Birthday.
(Snarky comment inside.)

It can sometimes be stressful but the trick is to have fun.
(Actually, come to think of it, that's good for most things.)

“Whistling tunes, we hid in the dunes by the seaside…”
Tired of waiting and watching.
“…If looks could kill, they probably will…”
Tired of killing time.
“…Dressing up in costumes, playing silly games…”
Tired of the games.
“…Hiding out in treetops, shouting…”
Tired of silently screaming.
“…In games without frontiers…”
Tired of fighting for nothing.
“…War without tears…”

Avocado basically is butter.
But with more cow.
Less cow.
Right, that way.

More or less.

No, trust me, this is going somewhere.
Because I was about to be wrap it up counselor.

It’s like how there’s a statute of limitations for wallposting.
Uh oh, Dannyrules.

I’m sorry, Schriever Air Force Base cannot come to the phone right now. Can I take a message?

haha can be either anticipatory or responsive.

How the Raviolo Got Its Toasted.

That famous Kipling story.
From the Just So Cookbook.

Every day Calypso is discovering a new cubby on my desk to climb into. Today is Topleftday.

Don’t see the trees for the forest.

“The perfect halo…”

Lightning never strikes.

I’m 3/3. Forgive me, but I’m having too awesome a day to be modest.
“That’s a pretty good average in baseball.”
It’s the opposite of a strikeout.
“The opposite of a strikeout is a hit.”
A strikeout is 0/3. The opposite of a strikeout, therefore, is 3/3. But a hit is only 1/3.
“So what’s the opposite of a strikeout? Going the cycle?”
That’d be 4/4.
“Be careful, don’t jinx it.”
Can’t. 2/3 would be jinxable. 3/3, that’s already awesome.

Twice.

“…The lightning in me that strikes relentless…”

$10 for being a nazi, $10 for not.

Censorship nazi. Not killing-Jews nazi.

“Any time I need to see your face I just close my eyes / And I am taken to a place…”

Walking through cloudmistdreamland, describing the surreality of the night until the phone call is interrupted by the other party saying Hold that thought as they go brush their teeth, with the tone of giving instructions to watch their phone, lest it sprout legs and scurry off like a paramecium insect, like an animated footstool in, say, “Beauty and the Beast”, and when you bring the phone back out of the peripheral vision of the mind’s eye it is no longer a phone, but the scurrying footstool, until you look at it and it stops scurrying and waits for you to look away again.

“…I don't need to try to explain / I just hold on tight…”

I liked watching the spectacular collapse of Massachusetts institutions much more last week when it was against the Ravens.

Take a drive, without the quasi-useful instructions or quasi-helpful advice.

“Attaches to your steering wheel for easy access to a writing and drink storage surface. The Go Office Wheel Mate Steering Wheel Desk is flat for writing and perfect for lunch or a snack. This Go Office Wheel Mate Steering Wheel Desk stores neatly in your car when used with the larger Auto Exec Laptop Car Desk. For safety reasons, never use this product while driving”

It’s remarkable how warm 32F can feel.

Bear With Us

“It’s spelled with a Y.”

Safari stops in the amazon, but it’s a little buggy.

I hold Sunkist in too high regard to use it as a scapegoat, even secondhand.

Bad Bar Mitzvah theme: Sound of Music.

“Because what’s more Jewish than nuns and Nazis?”

“I like my women like I like my crosswords…”
With a hint of British style, and a passionate outburst, and then bottom lip quivering? (7)

&lit

Metaschadenfreude: the gift that keeps on giving.

This should be amusing to you for 2 reasons.
“What's the third?”
1) R[]’s misfortune
2) A[] taking pleasure in R[]’s misfortune
3) Me taking pleasure in A[] taking pleasure in R[]’s misfortune

I don’t play games to win; I’m not even sure I play games primarily to have fun. While I certainly don’t play to lose, nor to not have fun, the motivation goes beyond. To experience within a set of rules, to share the experiences. I want to explore, to discover, to learn about which move to make, regardless of whether it is the right move or not; and to not be limited from many moves. The chance that I could win, may lose, will probably lose- it has nothing to do with why I am going. And thereby I enjoy, and thereby I will have fun.

Regardless the game, regardless the subject, there is a motivation; and there are probably more reasons beyond. So whither the world where games must be won?

(Est Ludovicum.)

SPIFfy.

I like to think of it as the Save the PIzza Fund.

Draw down.

“The deception with tact / Just what are you trying to say…”

This IM is severely lacking in transitions, says the high school English teacher part of me. Some good ideas, but you need to put more thought into outlining them. C-

“…One thing leads to another…”

It’s one thing to shoplift a USB memory key.
It’s another to shoplift a razor blade, use the blade to open the memory key, leave the blade in the memory key package, and shoplift the memory key.

Shoplifting is not a game; and especially not a text adventure game.

“Why aren’t you seizing the boy?”
”I have a big head and little arms.”

Arms and a man.

“With such short arms, how does a T-Rex get up?”
Now all I can think about is, how does a T-Rex get up in the morning, because his arms are too short to hit his alarm clock.