Because how could he destroy a world that makes something so delicious?

I still think the X-Men movie should have ended with a small child saving the world by giving Apocalypse a grape popsicle.
(I want to say blue, but that really only works for the cartoon and the comic.)

I don't even know if it's a real word any more.

Over the course of a search to ensure that the word is either capitalized or not the word has lost all meaning.
I just stare at it, wondering if it's spelled correctly because now it looks wrong even though I know that it's right.

It is, however, growing a fine mold.

Chia pattern baldness.
Someday there will be a cure.
(Today is not that day.)

Let's right this ship, er, train.

This story is like a little train.
It chugs along smoothly until it hits a penny someone has left on the tracks.
Then it derails.
Or falls off of the table.

Monday, Monday, Monday.

Why do I keep hitting these tear down paragraphs on Monday?

Dearest Hansel und Gretel,

It's not the wind.

If only I'd taped off the end of that necklace I was working on.

It wouldn't now be scattered across the floor.
Darn.

And now the voice of Robin Hood.

If people could just stop dying for a moment, that would be great.
(Especially the British.)

I thought Britannia was supposed to rule the waves.

Sometimes the greatest threat to the Royal Navy was the Royal Navy.
And Churchill.