Life is never free of contradictions.
Restarting a musical isn't free.
The Internet allows me to be more free.
Be Free, The World is Waiting
I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it is, you have no idea how free—— The peacefulness is so big it dazes you, And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets. It is what the d...
The Mad Affliction's arm shot out of the cage, grasping for me. I jumped back. His long, ragged talons swiped the air in front of me. "Free me!" the Mad Affliction cried. He grasped for Bethany, but she backed away, too. "Free me and know the living ...
There are many different ways of approaching parenting as there are cultures. However, in non-industrialized cultures, the similarities are also striking. Extended nursing, co-sleeping, carrying the baby in close physical contact, responding promptly...
I’ve got hair in my mouth, because I replaced my teeth with my cat. This makes it more fun to pet my gums.
Respect doesn’t have to be shiny. It just needs to be wearable. Would you be so kind as to hold my jockstrap while I stir your hot coffee?
Sleeping in a tinfoil suit keeps me warmer and helps prepare me for my voyage to the moon. Would you care for some licorice?
I admire the Stanley Cup. I’ll bet winning it could provide enough clean water for half of Africa (the middle half).
I was seen spotted with an older woman and a girl half my height in age. A leopard was also spotted.
I think people over the age of 6’2” look great. Just look at me! I was born in less than 19.82 inches.
The best date I’ve ever been on was March 5th, 1982, the year I was born. For as long as I live, I’ll never forget that date.
The moon looked like melted mozzarella to my bleary and blurry vision. Was I tired, intoxicated, or in love? Or was I sober, asleep, and alone?
My dreams and ambitions kept me company on the way there, and despair and regret were passengers on my return trip. I should have ridden a horse and not bothered with all that.
A pear, an apple, and a banana in a basket on a table isn’t art, no matter how skillfully painted. But it is something to talk about, or at least a tasty way to utilize one’s mouth.
I saw two statues talking to each other. I didn’t hear what they were saying, perhaps because they were whispering.
Who art thou? Are you art, or a guy named Art? Doesn’t matter. What does matter is, Are you for sale?
Too bad Americans can’t export Awesome, because I have boxes and boxes of the stuff just lying around in my attic.
I like watching baseball as much as my grandma’s left ear is loud. (She’d probably give her right ear for a left ear that wasn’t soundproof).