Ryan's Journal

When you squeeze an orange, orange juice comes out - because that's what's inside.

Unbelievable.

They've gone from vague fortunes to domesticated bromides to bland aphorisms and have transcended any sense of specificity whatsoever into pointless, irrelevant tautologies. Don't tell me that's supposed to be a Zen thing. This sounds like it was meant for a satire of Buddhist adherents, a mockery of principles, if you will. Chris Griffin as Shaolin monk. That's what he'd say.

Fortune cookie writers are such slackers.

I guess I would be too if I were one.

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