Double whammo, super slammo.

Back to back or front to front whichever is more lame-o.

One is none and two is too much.

Tragedies come in threes but I’m already reeling. Maybe death’s the third.

If so many is company, then two is just enough be awkward but still lonely.

Anticipation is more than half the fun.

Waiting on something bigger, better, worse.

More weight.

Another one.

Get it over with before its too late.

Two wrongs don’t make a right but one more and you’re officially back tracking.

Sometimes the step in the right direction is just turning around.

Takes two to tango. Check the mirror.

Two punch knock out, that’s a quick combo.

No funny business in love and war.

By any means necessary.

I forget that.

I forget that.

All the time.

When it comes to the heart judgement is blind.

Step 1: tell the truth. Step 2: no more steps.

What a crock.

That’s an ideal world.

We live in real life.

Dog eat dog and reigning cats.

Predator and prey.

And even though a lion doesn’t have escape instincts it is somehow more impressive to wear its pelt over that of a gazelle.

Hurt something that can hurt you.

Use bear traps.

Pit falls.

Cheat.

That’s the grand lesson. Cheat.

Even if you tell the absolute truth

no one will believe you.

Our very middle is gooey, no matter how much you bake it.

If anyone you can think of is cooked all the way through, then they’re burnt on the outside.

You have to pull the chicken off the grill a few degrees early.

Two more minutes and its overdone.

Two minutes too long on earth and the soul isn’t pearly.

So, you want a pair?

No.

You want one left shoe and one right.

Nothings ever equal.

Nothing fair.

I just want something so beautiful no one trusts it.

Not even me.