Dear Transit Workers:

Thanks for allowing me to stay home and work from my bed, in my 'jamas. I think that's totally rad and a great Christmas present. However, in the face of the 11-day transit strike back in '80, and the fact that most people don't have the balls to ask for crazy-ass raises and benefits, as well as the billions that will be lost because of the strike, I do have to second Kat from Bitch on the Street in saying "So you want to retire at 50. Who doesn't? I have to wait until I'm 62...you should too."

Thanks again, Bitches!

Karinatrix: i think jesus hates me
MrsJayeGott: of course he does. you're a jew.
Karinatrix: i'm trying to disguise myself
Karinatrix: as a catholic
Karinatrix: but jesus knows...
Karinatrix: he knows...

AARON: "Not an existential crisis. Just the opposite. I was fine when existence had no meaning. Meaninglessness in a universe that has no meaning -- that I get. But meaninglessness in a universe with meaning? What does that mean?"

JAYE: "It doesn't mean anything."

Wonderfalls, episode "Muffin Buffalo"

this show kind of RULES.

i had a dream this weekend that a bunch of folks, andy, scott, sarah, and so forth had gone in on Mega Millions lottery jackpot tickets together. God had promised us a winner, but then God died without telling anyone about our agreement, and so all our plans were ruined.

...then the killer flu struck and we were screwed because we hadn't been able to afford our island compound.

Caroline

please play along
everything you say
can and will be used against me
so damn it, sing with the verses,
so we can't say the words
it broke the bank, the last coin in the dark
the clink of the ice in the lees of my drink
like coins in little grandma coin-purses
though even there, they fall far
all the way to the bottom
my heart is broken, it's broken

tory: what's wonderfalls?
vanessa: what's that sound?
vanessa: it sounds like you're stepping on ducks
vanessa: no, wait, maybe it sounds like you're juggling ducks
tory: and i'm biting their heads off
vanessa: you'll run out of them very quickly if you do that, and have to order more
vanessa: ducks...
tory: they last forever if you videotape them

Rest you at the water

this is the strange classroom
where the test is being given and taken
this floor is like a ship on the sea

the light from the windows is cold
the tide is going out forever, the questions lack answers
and our teacher will not see.
my classmates are crying, sleeping, scratching their ears and their heads,
shuffling their exam papers like oversized tarot cards
but the future is elsewhere

this is the ship that crossed time
the pirates that come aboard are shot with revolvers, and slung overboard like anchors
they sink into black water-dreams
this ship crosses over minutes of sheet-rustling and pillow breath, buoyantly

deep in the heart of our vessel, where the youngest children hide, is the ice room.
if you open the porthole window, you can smell the sweetest air in the world.

drink your tea, lean out over the sea.
we are coming to a stop,
the avenue comes to an end at a red brick wall.
beyond it is a mystery, sleeping,
but it's time to get up:
when ships come to port in a paved lot -
when the dark companion evaporates -
and there's light coming in from the shutters -
from white drops of melted snow