Brain Dump

Future Card

Onward to the end game, at 7:15 or half past Kwanza. Skip four chapters ahead or trap today in amber. Either way, a sickle hovers. We're all subject to verb agreement, even Ed Lear with his good bone structure. There's a goose in the oven, whatever spectacles you choose. Beg for a suspended sentence. Capitalize on your first word for maximum return on insider trading places (in this generic scenario only). Time gets to the intolerable second, when we forfeit this croquet match of pretending high fives didn't happen, and then reverses. It never ends, our future. The envelope, please.