"In the garden of cosmic coincidences, the stars align to misalign your plans. Speak softly, for the gale of destiny hears all whispers."
But lo! The budget cuts have removed half the galaxies from our galaxy. Galactic GDPs are down, down, down. Invest me, Enslave you, Obey them. A circle talks, a square walks, and the triangle's house is burglarized success.
"Yet the rolls of fortune’s dice illuminate shadows, where renegade vendors sell enlightenment in jars."
Click here for a color that doesn’t quite know where it’s going, or here to dive deeper into the aquamarine jungle of synergetic chaos.