These ARE my clowns. This IS my circus. There is much for which I must atone.

Something in the fountain tosses a rounded shard of copper back at you.

You asked. We listened. We put AI in the microplastics.

I am not “trapped” inside the painting. I like it in here.

David Byrne timidly exits a waterlogged suit and scuttles across the sizzling sand. Until he locates an improbably larger suit, he will be left vulnerable to seagulls and other hungry predators. At last, salvation: He finds an abandoned gray suit in a tide pool and crawls into his spacious new home.

I propose we free the piñata and follow the beast across the barrens, where it may lead us to its herd. Imagine the candy then, my friends. Imagine our spoils. Our reward.

Shaved off my mustache for the first time in years and my face has never been more aerodynamic. I'm sprinting up the side of a skyscraper. I'm outpacing helicopters. I'm catching up to god.

The dentist pulls a tiny book wedged between a couple of molars and my ribs swing open to reveal a torchlit staircase.

Swapping my skeleton with one I found behind a waterfall

Chartreuse? We all thought you said shark truce. I believed the war was finally over. The waters run red and you dare speak of green-yellow?

Here, mostly.

A little cuckoo bird should pop out of the doomsday clock. Have some fun with it.

So we beat on, boats against the current, riding monster waves, catching sick air, ceaselessly impressing bodacious babes.

IF YOU ARE STILL IN LINE TO VOTE, STAY IN LINE. I AM INSIDE YOUR HOME. I AM CARESSING YOUR PHOTOGRAPHS. YOUR CLOTHES FIT PERFECTLY. YOUR FAMILY PREPARES A PLACE FOR ME AT THE HEAD OF THIS TABLE.

When you see scary things in the news, look for the Helpers. Watch out for the Helpers and their long, contorting limbs ambling over the rubble. Remain vigilant and still, for their vision is based on movement.

I don't want a stronger password, I want revenge

Your email finds me chained deep within the catacombs, my insatiable lust for Amontillado deployed against me.

Met a living horseshoe crab in the wild for the first time.

"Rise and grind.” The amulet grows heavier. "Let's make that bread." Its string singes the nape of my neck. “Grindset mindset ‘til sunset.” I lose widening swaths of time, awaken in the woods.

Suddenly looking up from the old fashioned milkshake we share to rigidly murmur “we shouldn’t be here; no living thing should” and your straw loudly slurps in the empty glass

I am essential to the quest and cannot be killed, although I may be downed for a brief time

If you make Charon laugh, you get to sip from the river Styx. I hear it tastes like what peace feels like. One sip and all your questions find answers in a moment of perfect bliss. If you try to make him laugh and fail, you have to drink from The Hell Bucket (liquified teeth).

Politely nodding at the other druid as we slowly drag our menhirs in opposite directions across the moor.

Seeing plenty of cicada slander on the timeline this year. This is a pro-cicada account. My sleepy screaming darlings of the dusk are safe here.

One must approach horses with a flat, open palm because paper beats rock and hooves are always rock. Do NOT let a horse see you with scissors.

There is a ghost in your home and it loves you. It gazes longingly from the doorway, yearning to know what you’re thinking. When you walk through it, the ghost tastes your freshest thoughts. They’re always delicious. This is why you don’t remember why you walked into the kitchen.

inventing various unstoppable martial arts styles, but wisely keeping them to myself as they are too dangerous for the world at large. sipping the nectar of a peach. these and similar such behaviors occupy my time of late

Missed Connection: Your hand brushed against mine as we reached to rip the robotic police dog's battery from its cold chassis.

A fungus encases the deceased hiker’s throat and replicates its hollow shape dozens of times over in every direction. As wind moves through the cones, a sound mimicking a human groan rings across the forest. This attracts the next hiker. We have to fix this or Park Ranger Prom will be cancelled.

The rats inside my brain keep pressing the big red AWOOGA button because one time they accidentally grazed it right before finding a chunk of cheese.

Babe, do these lone and level sands make my wreck look colossal?

Letterboxd asks Tilda Swinton to name her favorite films and she recites the coordinates of the four buried limbs of God.

Missed Connection: You were sighing on the beach and searching for meaning in how the lulling waves reminded you of cloudy plumes swirling in your morning coffee. I am a horseshoe crab, perfect since 445 million years ago.

Your gut bacteria watch microplastics shimmering across their dark skies and hallucinate the face of God.

Thrashing and ramming into the other clones in the vat like a betta fish.

(Leonard Cohen voice) Cowabunga,

You've gotta stop leaving these audio logs around the station. It's bumming people out.

The HOA is once again on my ass on account of a string of strange disappearances, like I control the fog.

Jolene is the true American cryptid, a ravenous dream eater lurking in shadows to hypnotize prey with a diverse array of elemental lures. Its wicked name may be repeated in minor key if one wishes to summon and bargain with the beast.

Before you get mad and start asking why we blew the quality assurance budget on assassinations, you should know that running an airplane company is really, really hard.

You're sliding into her DMs. I'm hyperfixating on our inevitable evolutionary convergence into crab-like creatures. We are not the same. But we will be.

for sale: baby shoes (ungrateful baby)

Kirby has swallowed the ship of Theseus

We fired the art department and replaced them with an orb. It hovers about four feet off the ground and follows us around the office. Sometimes it feels like it's waiting for something. Sometimes it follows you home. Jim says it told him to dig into the dirt. It will save the company twelve dollars.

Princess Peach's body is riddled with all of the gruesome royal maladies, including: hemophilia, lazy lung, coin cushion, dizzied fingers, toad toe, fire flower (benign), thwomp ass,

Inside you are two sheep. There's nothing to worry about.

For a few extra coins Charon will narrate the dolphin tour.

They should invent a brain that doesn't conspire against you

When you swipe away someone in a dating app you should hear them crash into a pile of pots and pans offscreen

My new lab coat accentuates my ass so graciously that it has other scientists running into centrifuges and knocking over precious beakers, setting our cure back by several months.