Still feeling the tendrils of the God fragment I bumped into last Tuesday.

"That's one pooch you can't unscrew," he said, shaking his head.

Would you rather be reaching for something or trying to hold on to it?

Oh, I used to believe in gravity, but I became dissatisfied with it.

As another beam fell and flames leapt around us, I turned to her, knowing we didn't have long before we were engulfed. Time seemed to slow down, reflected sparks tracing lazy arcs across her eyes. All I could think was how lovely she looked in that light.

Respect my bullshit!

The graffiti said simply "Me"... How appropriate.

It wasn't long before the magic was out of control. We always had the option to neutralize it, but it quickly became obvious that we would never take it, no matter how bad things got.

The Herculean Games: just like the Olympics, but without those pesky drug restrictions.

thanks: Kevin

He was in the Dia de los Muertos parade, dressed as a suburb.

90% of any skill is failure recovery.

He took pleasure in goading her until she lashed out, then acting betrayed until she asked for his forgiveness.

I tried to be cynical, but it was just too much work.

Mustn't let the eye see what the body already knows.

Children are like cheese, in that you can make them at home.

Plenty of people shave in the car while driving to work, but she does her bikini area and everything!

Simple things make good building blocks.

He considered himself a fugitive from the law, but the authorities didn't know yet.

It's just like putting a bonnet on a badger; he might look all prim and proper, but he's no less likely to whip off and bite you.

Video is the lingua franca of today's world, and while nearly everyone can read this new language, few can write it.

Unlike petroleum, pornography is a renewable resource.

"Action Item", the new corporate-espionage thriller from Arnold Schwarzenegger.

He made a device that would wait until the last human on earth was dead, then broadcast a special message on loudspeakers across the world.

The scratches on my hand keep reminding me, of what, I don't know.

I believe I am a figment of my own imagination.

I program myself like a machine, and then hate myself for being so easy to manipulate.

Yeah, this is why modesty doesn't scale.

How do I write this so I'll believe it after I've lost tonight's memories?

Innocence - what a rush!

Finally, after gliding through subterranean passageways for what seemed like hours, we moored our boat at a small dock set into the rock face. As we climbed the stairs, we could see the glow of a thousand little lights ahead.