“I woke up with a feeling that something bad was going to happen. Are things good where you are?”

It’s easy to miss something you’re not looking for.

DreamR[] is a very bad driver.
"RealLifeR[] is probably a worse driver."

The advantage of procrastinating cleaning one’s kitchen is that instead of with a pun comparing it to the Iraq War, one can accurately compare it to an earthquake disaster zone.

Inconsistent.

The afikomen could be hidden inside a turducken to ensure that, by the time dinner is finished, the meal is.

"The man is pointing his remote at the tent wall."
It's a rerun.

Most Mysterious Enigma Wrapped in a Riddle

"She's serving chopped up scraps of the tent."
They're leftovers.

Thank you very much; were Suspicious of Whistlers!

That's more than 1 word.

Show up for free food:
Final improv performance, tonight, 8pm, LabSci 300, free.

(Ends the same way it began.)

If I get a koi pond, it will be stocked with 500-pound salmon.

“No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women…”

Just what the Dr ordered.

“…No fun, no sin, no you, no wonder it's dark…”

This might be me.

It’s probably for the best that I decided not to use my carefully orchestrated Hugh Laurie-should-play-Cicero tangent.

If I seem incoherent, I am.

But who shall construct an elaborate deathtrap for the constructors of elaborate deathtraps?

Someone’s got to do it.

Nevermind, I think I've answered my own question.
“That’s a problem is search of a solution.”
It’s a solution in search of a problem.

What would happen to the promo CD if its owner were to die, if disposing of promo CDs is illegal?
Therefore, promo CDs cause immortality.

Why reductio ad absurdum, when I can live with it?

I vote not making decisions.

“Caesar can give you money and honor, but he can't make you an orator.”

Will have to wait for Cicero.

Starting a Tuesday at 12:05am really sets the tone for the rest of the day.

“…And we're gonna play it…”

“How was?”
I’ve had better; I’ve had worse.
“That describes all but 2.”

Should fall somewhere.

Somehow it has taken me over 95% of my college life to deliver extra large raw shrimp ordered to the library to be paid for by check or cash. And doing it feels somewhat normal.

Places spin around, people are thrown together. Clocks reset, times fly, hands spread, backs flip. Cards are dealt and on the table. Words rush out, incomprehensible symbols, lines etched in your memory that you’ve never heard before or since. Spread the poison around. The name sounds familiar; it’s like your own only you forgot it. The end is an echo of the beginning, and both are fast approaching from either side. Late to bed, early to rise: nothing to do but dance the night away with friends. There is a plan: there is no plan.

Through a haze of impossible madness a rhythm emerges.

“…Can’t stop raving / I can’t stop raving / I can’t…”

General excel strategy: vigorous rightclicking.

10-30 Rule
f(t) is constant for 10 < t < 30, where f(x) = the consequence of being x minutes late.