There once was an idea that had legs. It walked too far, and tripped on a scarf, and subsequently fell down, and that was it for the legs.

There once was a horrible day. It wanted to change so it took three vows: never to have an idea that had legs, not to be horrible anymore, and four more vows worth saving for later.

There once was a beautiful piano piece that wanted to get back to being part of the piano. It didn’t have enough for bus fare so it hitchhiked, but no one understood.

There once was a overly obligated orangutan. Her secretary got fired. Yikes!

There are once upon a times that talk about the future, but they are very hard to hear.

All the dust you collect in your ear goes into your brain and comes out your other ear. The brain.

The cats see me and I see them. We can see each other. When I get up, I can’t hide from them.

Once upon a time there are so many ways to say goodbye. You say goodbye with your lips or a letter or ask someone else to text them. Goodbye. But so many ways.

Other times, you can still see. That’s ok. It’s not the worst seeing. Its like seeing something in the toilet you don’t understand and you look around you as if the thing that put it there is going to be in the bathroom waiting for someone to discover it. But sometimes they are, they are waiting there because they made a joke, and they want to laugh at the first person that sees the joke, because to them it is funnier to see someone discover the joke, but to others they like to think of no one knowing and the idea of someone discovering it alone is too much to resist.

There upon your lap is probably nothing. But if you slap it like you are going to play the drums, if there is someone near you, they may come to your lap and sit on it.

Two Tuesdays ago, I couldn’t tell you what I was doing, and I don’t think you could either. But we could look at our calendars and puzzle it out.

When I die I hope you won’t smell me defecating and then only remember me defecating. I hope you won’t do that and then tell other people that the worst thing that ever happened to you is that you loved me, but then when I died, all you could smell was defecation, and now you can’t remember me any other way.

It must be fun to forget where your knives are and discover $50.