Good fortune for the cookie crowd crumbling.
[Image shared by Max Sparber]

We’ve got skins grey against the light that beams down on us from delight.
[Photo by albedo20]

Can I speak to the manager when the manger doesn’t leave a cradled savior grinning at a knowing sky, wondering at that last moment how forsaken he might be?
[Photo by aprilzosia]

I went bowling with the molester, once.
[Image by Philippe Tolet paintings]

Such turbulence! Such a violation of space and time and everything and everywhere. Continuum fall down and go boom!
[Image by Jack Wolf]

The word “bastard!” rolls effortlessly off my tongue, punctuated by the fist I raise in anger at the speck on the horizon that should have been my ride to work this morning.
[Image by Google Maps]

Security couldn’t catch us, but it still seemed like we couldn’t run fast enough. How embarrassing for everyone to be awful at everything!
[Photo by James Cridland]

The cruise missile ceasefire betwixt the miniskirted It-girls and the cyborg toyboys was worth cool megabucks to the power-dressing eggheads down in the Big Apple.
[Photo by Nathan Rupert]

“I’m from the future, baby! Have you ever done anything high-tech?”
[RIP James Doohan]

What’s the use of even making up a schedule if they’re never running on time?
[Photo by Matthew Wilkinson]