Fortune cookies

Specific enough to give you hope.
Vague enough not to tell you when.

Maybe this way it will actually happen.

My goal is to be done by the end of the year.
This means that I have two months.
Two months to get through the rest of the days.
Two months to stage everything.
Two months to solve all of the problems.
At least the problems that are going to be solved.
Two months.
It seems like a long time.
And then it doesn't.
But I'm still going to do it.
In two months I'm going to be done.
Or darn close to it.
No.
I'm going to be done.
I hope.

Maybe that's why the other three were captured.

Remember folks, if you're going to take on the Evil Dynasty, don't forget to pack your toothbrush.
(And someone willing to drag you around the Nether Realm when you inevitably start to give up.)

(And a personal flotation device or snorkel because if you don't save yourself, no one will.)

I've probably already watched this more times than I should have.

 But I still think they should play this version at the store instead.

And lo,

It came to pass that the people ventured back to the store to return or exchange their shirts, as they were now forced to pin their hopes upon the Lions, for the Wings had yet to take flight.

But I still wouldn't watch them willingly.

The Twilight movies work a lot better when you think of them as comedies, or maybe it was just that I came in at the right time near the end of the second one.  I mean, I guess I was supposed to think that those vampire-like beings who aren't really vampires but are actually more like venomous disco balls were scary and that the scene was tense and I was supposed to be worried for our heroes safety, but really, of the big three, two of them looked very tired, and the third, well, he was far too busy chewing on the scenery and being all bug-eyed to be anything but hilarious.  (I could also have easily imagined him holding a frilly parasol, but if you don't know where that joke comes from, you probably don't find it nearly as funny as I do.)  Then again, it could have been that after working for eight and a half hours, and getting home somewhere around midnight, that I was just plain exhausted.  But man, did I need a laugh, and for some ungodly reason, that movie stepped up to the plate to provide it.  Well, at least for the several minutes that I was able to watch it before turning to something else because really, I didn't care, and once the crazy ones left the scene it was just Dead Cedric and the Drippy Girl talking to Big Shirtless Ron, so there was no real reason to stay, and besides, I think there was something happening on the Food Network.

Just a few questions:

1.) Does Frankenstorm refer to the storm or the creator of the storm?
2.) Concerning the name of the storm, shouldn't it actually be a collection of the different parts of other storms that have been combined to form a single storm?
3.) If it weren't going to be affecting New York, would the morning news shows have spent all morning broadcasting about it?

Well that took a long time.

Eight hours of painting needles.
Eight hours of nothing but green.
Eight hours and the pine tree is finally finished.

(Except for the decorations.)

I like him, indeed I do.

We may never see that character again, but he clearly makes a mean cup of coffee.

I'd love to watch the debate.

But there's a world to save, and the Dynasty won't defeat itself, so I really shouldn't.
But if I didn't have to do that, or any number of things that I could think of right now, I certainly would, because who doesn't love watching two grown men act like they're still in Junior High?

But that's not what it looks like.

When the news anchor says that the rules for the debate are "like fifty pages long," and then waves a stack of paper through the air, it would really help if the stack actually looked like it was fifty pages long, or even twenty-five if it was double sided.  This one didn't.  It looked like it was maybe ten at the most.

Hey there, Warlord!

Nothing strikes fear into the heart of an enemy like ending a stirring speech with "So, so there!"

(It's almost as good as showing your loyalty to a missing teammate by asking "Can't we go on without him?")

I know that I said this last time.

But this will be the last file.
It will.
Surely this story doesn't have another 216 pages left to it.
Right?
Right?

I don't know whether to run for my life or try not to blink.

Tonight at work, I discovered that sometime during my days off, they scattered a bunch of Christmas trees around the store.  It made me feel like I was in an episode of Doctor Who because every time I turned around, I seemed to find another one.  It was almost like they were following me. I wonder if that's the Angel's new plan.  Clearly, they aren't lonely any more.

(Yes, I know that there actually were killer Christmas trees in an episode, but these, the way they seemed to always pop up out of nowhere, felt a lot more like Angels.  Now, if they'd been spinning, that would have been another matter entirely...)

Well that could have been awkward.

After all, he's married,
And she's spoken for.

(And we really don't want to get the other guy involved.)
(He would not take it well.)
(Not at all.)

Pardon the recent silence.

For I have been abroad in The Land of Stairs.
(Also known as Italy.)