Certain people will never understand how you can be married to your job in the rare-book room of the Frick, but that’s only because they think that what you do for a living is gay.
Like that of human beings, the beauty of snowflakes lies in the fact that no two are exactly alike. Also, a big part of their beauty lies in the fact that every single one of them is white.
The Sistine Chapel panel that depicts the creation of the sun and moon never fails to hold spectators captive with its beauty and vast scope, allowing you plenty of time to search through their purses and pockets for money.
A signature lovingly practiced and perfected in youth, when there seemed to be nothing but time and dreaming, will be used to sign off on a shipment of new highlighter pens for the conference room this week.
The stars will send you a special message this week, but sadly, you will be long dead by the time it reaches Earth.
Satan will take the form of Excel spreadsheet cell G-14 this week and refuse to assume the proper formatting.
Your brand-new goose-down jacket will be damaged beyond repair this week when you’re shot 11 times in the chest.
To many, you’re nothing more than an overly enthusiastic carpet salesman, which is unfortunate, really, considering the importance of your fight to rid the world of tap-dancing.
You’re thankful that the governor keeps granting you last-minute reprieves, but your waistline is starting to reflect all those last meals.
After years of conflict, your parents will finally accept that you’re a picky eater this week and just begin serving you food at every meal.
A general sense of warm well-being will lead you to decide that prog-metal band Dream Theater should be killed painlessly and without torture, a decision you may later come to regret.
You’ve never been the sort to pat yourself on the back, but that was before you had a piece of steak lodged firmly in your windpipe.
