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.