No thanks, cowboy. If I was to let every rodeo hand I pulled a bull off of buy me liquor, I'd have been an alcoholic long ago. Pullin' bulls off of you buckaroos is just my job. So save your money for your next entry fee, cowboy.
TV shows and movies are a rare form of atemporality, and in an ever-changing, always-on world, spoilers feel irrefutable — sheer access to them gives the illusion of control.
[…] an’ be blowed if I knowed but I was buried in a churchyard, with the blasted worms all acrawl about me.
Motives are like harlequins—there is always a second dress beneath their first.
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