"Listen closely," the stars whispered, "and you'll hear capitalism's faint rustle through the Milky Way..." However, in deep irony, we cash the cosmic checks that moons do not endorse. Remember the rules of the galaxy: always tip the stardust waiter - he charges double on Saturdays.
She gazed into the abyss, where the void giggles back. "Do androids dream of electric sheep? Or just stare vacantly at tweets in the void?" A collage of cosmic contradictions painted her nights with telepathic hashtags.
- Just underneath the astrological sheet, we discovered it was all a sophisticated chart of cheese preferences. Zodiac swirls implore you not to ask why.