Like ice, this economy is more fluid than ever. Thanks, Washington, DC!

With the interconnectedness of it all, the world is more fluid than ever. I blame it on the rain. Milli Vanilli was ahead of their time.

I watch her as she leaves. Everything about her is fluid as a river. Her messy hair, her xylophone voice, the strokes of her paintbrush. Even her camouflage army jacket hangs loose, flowing like ribbons.

There are two kinds of people. One kind, you can just tell by looking at them at what point they congealed into their final selves. It might be a very nice self, but you know...

The thirstiest bird is surely the swallow. My love is so fluid I’ll bet drinking it would give you the gift of flight.

If you convert a shower curtain to a dress, I’ll wear my waterproof dancing shoes. Together we’ll move so fluidly people will line up to get cleansed.

When I dance, I’m so fluid you could drink my moves. And if you sip it with your morning coffee, you’ll be light on your feet all day.

I dance so fluid that I often drink the floor.

I yell at yellow like I purr at pink. If they were more fluid, I’d pour meows in my morning coffee.