Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.
I won’t go into detail, but my workshop is a lot more bitchin’ than just a bunch of idle hands, or whatever. And, although there are lots of hands, let’s just say they’re not idle. They’re . . . up to stuff.
The devil is in the details.
Well, yeah—and in the sky, and the clouds, and the ocean. I’m fairly omnipresent. But, sure, let’s focus only on the details. Just don’t act shocked when you suddenly see my face in a map of Florida.
Devil on my shoulder.
Cute imagery, but if I’m going to reside in some part of human anatomy, it tends to be more around the pants area. The shoulder’s of little interest to me. “Devil in my jeans”? Now, that’s an expression I could get behind.
Devil may care.
To imply that I might care is a bit optimistic. I wake up, I do my regimen—you know, smoothie, bathroom, the whole nine—and then I get to my list. If I’m to torment the souls of the damned for all eternity, I have to keep on top of things. It’s that simple. Caring doesn’t really enter into it.
Speak of the devil.
The idea that I’ll just appear when mentioned is a stretch. There are entities that work that way, but spontaneous manifestation was never really my jam. If you want me to show, there’s a whole chant and some required sacrifices that I won’t get into here. Anyway, I’m scheduling out pretty far right now, so I’d definitely recommend planning ahead if it looks like you’ll be needing me down the line.
Devil’s triangle.
Honestly, I really don’t appreciate this term. Because here’s the thing—this specific sexual configuration? It doesn’t even make a triangle. It ends up being more of an open-sided rhombus. I guess it offends me as a geometry enthusiast more than anything else. Meanwhile, look at the pentagram and tell me that’s not one of the most beautiful examples of linear balance you’ve ever seen.
The devil whispers, “You cannot withstand the storm.” The warrior replies, “I am the storm.”
First of all, I’m not much of a whisperer, due to recurrent throat polyps. And, second, I’m pretty sure I would be the storm in this analogy. Ever heard of Hurricane Hugo? That was me. Sandy? Me. El Niño? Well, that was more of a climate-change deal. I wish I could take credit for climate change, but, no, that’s all on you guys. Kudos.
