“The Warriors” tackles a tricky, delicate, sensitive subject: how to reconnect with the past middle school-era friendships fled from, and sets it against a backdrop of Jonesboro.

Submerging myself in 6 days’ depths.

I don't know why I'm trying so hard to place it. It's good on its own. Well done, song. You're a keeper. I hope you feel the same about me.

I have a crush on a coffeehouse.

“Black Watch” is an unsettling play to view; instead of a narrative, it presents history and news.

I’ll get you a cupcake tomorrow.
“haha Thank you! I may not be there tomorrow. But you do not need to get me a cupcake either way.”
Oh. I’ll give it to the person of your choice then.
“Okay, whoever is sitting at the stool closest to the door is my person of choice.”

Have your cake and eat it, the classic loophole.

Also I need to go buy a cupcake but my phone has barely charged if I suddenly disappear for a bit.
“#whitepeopleproblems”

For when picking random numbers to fill out a bracket isn’t enough, only a few phrases are needed to cluelessly bluff through a conversation about NCAA.

“College sports is a passing game.”
“A good big man is rare.”
“You can always have a Cinderella story.”

The temptation of reading “Heart of a Dog” as purely post-Russian Revolution political allegory may have been stifled too far in the opposite direction, but the story does seem more about general human educational and cultural development, a hybrid of Frankenstein, Animal Farm, and My Fair Lady. Communism fails for equally reapportioning positives while leaving the negatives unbalanced, matching the dichotomy of Philip’s positive and Ivan’s negative reinforcement. Childrearing, petowning, and bondage are collectively satirized as losses of liberty: only the beast admires the leash, with the price of loyalty $1.40. Individually cannot be squelched by bookburning an offending tome after it has been read; ideas are destroyed only by removing the soul, which is glandular, developing with maturation. The narration switches from 1st person to 3rd, with Sharik going from being so sympathetic that the reader initially isn’t sure his species, to a frighteningly foreign and increasingly absent 3rd person. Beauty is pliability, even transspecies; the out of control familiar is monstrous.

And if your galoshes are stolen in Act 1, there will be a flood in Act 3.

What goes up must get stuck on the 4th floor.

Autocomplete.

“Quick- good warm up energy games for 6-8th graders”
Spin the bottle!

Yet I actually had a decent idea this year.

Two miners are arguing over where to dig a pit. One of them wants to find the perfect location, the other just wants to get the job done. They argue back and forth all day. Finally the second miner defers, conceding… “Well, it’s your pick.”

The difference between math texts and English texts is that one has plot lines, the other has line plots.

One of our lessons exploded. It’s a mess, and now there are little pieces of lesson everywhere.

I got so excited about the redvelvet I forgot to mention the clementines.
Fair enough.
It's just, I've had delicious clementines before. Cream cheese frosting is a much rarer beast.
That's exactly my problem with cream cheese frosting. It's become a very common beast.
I left out the word delicious in that sentence, I realize.

Cheese or font.

The New York Times must have a back supply of crossword puzzles along with obituaries.

We’ll either be twotiming strumpets together, or we’ll be twotiming strumpets, together.

Options open.

Singled (halved?) with a shared attribution. And since it’s been a while since an SI unjustly overlooked: Fire Leonardo DiCaprio, hire Sigmund Freud: Inception gets a NC-17 rating.

Lose leaf.

The Answer to the Great Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything, as given in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, is 42.

Stephen Fry, a good friend of Douglas Adams’s, claims the punchline is fascinating, extraordinary, and obvious when thought really hard about.

One day, having just finished writing a play with a hidden joke in base 13, walking down the street, I had a sudden deep thought.

Forty-two.
Tea for two.

The meaning of life is… tea for two.
Something Douglas Adams was passionate about.
Something computers in the book just can’t seem to make right.
Simple, brilliant, clever, fitting, funny, and probably true. It has to be.

“…Just tea for two / And two for tea…”

“We need to figure out what we’re going to do about all these pages we need to edit. By the way, did you hear about Elizabeth Taylor?”
Yeah, read it online earlier today.
“Oh. [pause] So, what are we going to do?”
I think we'll be okay without her. Richard Burton managed.

What do you have to leave for? If it’s a basketball game, there’ll be other ones. But, if it’s a girl… there’ll be other ones.

After it.

“There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable it is, nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate YOU. Keep the channel open… No artist is pleased… There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction; a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.”

The author cares more about the words than the characters.

Quotes we wished we had last Thursday.