I came downstairs and this was on the arm of my chair. An ill omen for the day.


I came downstairs and this was on the arm of my chair. An ill omen for the day.

Comments

  1. Man, fortuneteller's curses have just gotten lazier and lazier over the years.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
    “Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
    Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
    Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

    ReplyDelete
  3. Just spit at it, that usually works for my ill omens.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Boss: "So, why aren't you coming in to work today?"

    me: "Um, it's complicated..."

    ReplyDelete

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