The long and short of it.

Lobsters have teeth in their stomach.

“To a lobster, taste and digestion are the same process; savoring is the same as sustaining.”

When life hands you lemons, take 2 and stuff your pockets with Rice Krispy Treats and pretzel Goldfish.

“What happened to your arm?”
“I broke my collarbone.”
Have we learned nothing?
“I’m sorry, I was in a Mexican pinata fight.”

All that, and a bag of chips I left 3 weeks ago next to 2 bible mix CDs and the 23rd volume of the 1985 Encyclopedia Britannica.

“You know B[]? He stepped on my face.”
You get it.

“Where were you and E[] on the 24 of November, 1946?”
I don't know E[]'s whereabouts *now*, much less 60+ years ago.
“So you don't have an alibi.”
Well, technically, I just can't provide him with one. I've reserving 5th amendment in my own case.
“Rumor has it that both you and E[] have been involved in a rash of murders, mostly at night, as well as participating in quite a bit of lynching.”
Oh, that's a fun rumor. Who told you that?
“I didn't think this silliness out any further than this.”
Well, technically, neither had I, now had I.

Up to scratch.

I still reel, still feel sick:
Still seeking trick
I raise my head: Instead of *click*
There’s still a wall of brick.

“And every single day is just a fling…”

Adventure is harder than it looks.

“…Just in time / Thank anybody…”

I need either an insomnia buddy or sleep.

“…Then the morning comes…”

Ragtime is an American Les Miserables.

“I can feel: too much is never enough…”

The problem with taught essay writing: either the quotes are fake and contrived, or the ideas aren’t one’s own.

“…I don’t deserve you unless it’s some kind of hidden message…”

Whither the 4th grade butterfly presentation?

“…The smartest thing you ever did was take a chance…”

Whence the butterfly?

“…You’re my butterfly…”

So I was reading the ingredients of British Sudafed and that's too hilarious a clause for me to finish this sentence. Sorry. Give me a second.

Amaizement.

There’s a fine line between hobby and profession.

OCTOBER is National Recycling Month*

CAN RECYCLE
White and colored paper
Staples, paper clips, sticky sides, plastic windows
Newsprint and magazines
Cardboard

CAN’T RECYCLE
Hardbound books
Tissue paper
Napkins
Lobsters

*Actually, it’s April. But you wouldn’t have known it if I hadn’t told you just now.

I remember this place.

I had a Florence/Chrono Trigger crossover dream. I got lost because Florence was a bunch of escalators, and some of them were time traveling.

“I’m punching my card / Eight hours, for what / Oh tell, me what I got…”

Not here, but hear.

“…You can fly if you'd only cut / Loose, footloose / Kick off your Sunday shoes…”

Not wear, but where.

“…Burning, yearning for / Somebody to tell you / That life ain't passing you by…”

Not moral, but morale.

“…C'mon before we crack / Lose your blues / Everybody cut footloose…”

Egg drop soup is very us.
And George Clooney.

Dropping by.

Some times, some things, work.

“Up in the morning at six o'clock…”
Will be a long day
“…Day after day / Slaving away…”
Work too hard.
“…Count the hours, minutes too…”
Hard times.
“…Same complications…”
Time to go.
“…Nowhere to run to…”
Go to work.
“…I miss the feeling / Having fun…”
Has been a long time.
“…Friday night…”

Gutentag is trying so hard to be a palindrome, but just can’t quite make it.

“Hypocrisy is the other name for diplomacy.”

Getting along.