“Pillowman” descends vertigo-inducingly from a set, as unbalancing as its characters, both too humored and too real for a dark comedy. Combined with an inevitability reminiscient of “Postman Never Rings Twice” and “Dead Like Me”, intermission wonders how the play could ever be viewed completely through, much less multiple times, until after it’s over the wonder of the horror is not only accepted, but understood.

“I’m busy. Whatever. Heck yes, just let me know when!”

Formidable proponent.

The gift which keeps on being ungiven.

“Let me take a picture of you 2.”
Because I didn’t date you.
“What? We never dated.”
Right. I never took you out for dinner 3 times. I didn’t bring you red roses when you were stressed. I didn’t cook you any special dinner last week to show how much I love you.
“I don’t get your jokes.”
No, you never did.
<finally smiling> "I’ll see you around.”
No, you won’t.

What unexpectedly encountering the past, what does one say? Perhaps direct metaacknowledgement: "Hello, Past, I'm afraid I don't quite know what to say to you." Perhaps introduce to the future: "Past, this is Future. Future, this is Past. I'm sure you have lots of things in common that you'd love to talk about." And then they can go off together into another room, leaving one alone.

“How did it go?” does not ask “How will it go?”. It is either good or bad. It is not fair to it to assign optimism or pessimism to it. For the past is the past, the future is the future, and the burden of one should not fall upon the other.

Fun Theory
Something as simple as fun is the easiest way to change people’s behaviour for the better.

“What would you think if…”

Unconditional.

“…I’m going to try with a little help from my friends…”

“Mystery of Edwin Drood” is satisfying because one can walk into it knowing exactly how it will end, even if Dickens didn’t. Our mutual friend S[] was obviously the killer.

“It’s never the person who you most suspect or the person you least suspect. It’s the person I most medium suspect.”

“And the anchorperson on TV goes…”

Wish war telegrams could positively report on progress but fear they all end STOP

“…La di da, di da, di da di da di da…”

You never read the e-mails I never sent.

“First you put 4 Roman numerals in a row, the next thing you know, there’s no dress code.”

Making it count.

*No* need for madlibs.

I'm still on poor nutella-covered Calypso in my mind. She's very confused in a disgrunted kind of way. Unnutella-covered Calypso on my futon is simply yawning fatly and unbaldly.

Blintz with nutella is, on a scale from pepperoni to pretzels, a 7.

I feel kind of cactus right now. :\ And I don't want to be cactus.
Is this like when Maebe got alligators in spelling? What is cactus?
Like, spiky and offputting, with a little bit of Dad.

Hey, what are you doing tnoight around 6 your time?
Opening my front door to find you perched at the doorstop? No wait…
Good answer, haha, but wrong.
…Getting Casa Dilla with you.

The shock of discovery from forgetting that someone is still around is as strong as the shock of discovery from realizing that actually they no longer are.

Sleep deprivation is a great narcotic. It puts you to sleep.

Trade Meet

(  )  Price Correct!
(  )  Needs Second Pass
(  )  Not Found

I am a person with an iPhone with an iPhone.

“Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated…”

The RAZR is of elegance. Between the basic blocky, pre-flip Nokias and the app-filled hybrid iPhones lived a slender, compact, complete device, culminating the gap between advanced and obsolete.

Elegance is such a simple request.
Even simple can fail.

“…You fall and you crawl and you break…”

Frosted Cheerios come from rude Londoners.

“We introduce a basic model for zombie infection, determine equilibria and their stability, and illustrate the outcome with numerical solutions.”

There’s a reason why zombies need brains.

Don't painstakingly neatly write out the entire cast and script of a movie on the DVD beautifully until you've successfully burned it.
That resonates with the modern audience better than don't count your chickens before they hatch. My chickens don't hatch. They are grilled or breaded.
Yesterday I was hardboiling some eggs. And you know that noise of air squeaking by things?
I might know that noise, but we are not on a first name basis.
So like, they were boiling, but there maybe was like an infinitesimal crack in one, which did no damage, but the sound of the weensy amount of air escaping, it sounded chickenly. Which was sad sounding, but I'm pretty sure it was just air. Insofar as if a chick were inside, he wouldn't have just sat there silently during the fridge stage.
Oh, poor little confused refrigerator chick.

“I’ve had my fun, and now it’s time to…”

No rhyme.

“…We’d circle and we'd circle and we'd circle to stop and consider…”

No reason.

“…I've got my spine, I've got my orange…”