The spice of life.

 He didn't fancy the curry comb, either.

It never o'curried to him.

Greeting card sentiment.

 All he needs now is a warm puppy.

Unless he breaks under the pressure.

Fake it till you make it.

 You never know what you don't know.

But now that you mention it.

Controlled chaos.

 It was never more than the illusion of control.

Mommy and Daddy shouldn't fight in front of the children.

The Fifty-Eighth Variety.

 The only Michelin Two-Star Alley.

Like mother used to make.

Ever vigilant.

 Not what she would call a beauty mark.

Merely a blemish for the time being.

The Money Song.

 Blood and money seem to travel in the same circles.

The purest pf motives, simple greed.

Crowning moment.

 He is known in the palace as the royal pain.

He gets the royal boot.

Cereal podcast.

 That was the cereal-adjacent Kellogg.

The long way round, but he got there.

Upstaged by Pepper's Ghost.

 George Melies has much to answer for, too.

Knock three times.

Art to die for.

 Morse invented because he couldn't sell his paintings.

Now he can't even give them away.

Coded message.

 The answer is in the stars.

Don't get too close to Belelgeuse.

He earned it.

He got respect the old-fashioned way...

He bought it.

The body electric.

 Years of training and apprenticing to use an emery board.

Rough customer.

An ill wind.

 Do not ask what she is sick of...

Unless you want your feelings hurt.

Don't look now.

 The Glass Wall Syndrome strikes again

No expectation of privacy there.

Tax rebate.

 Not so fast with that meltdown.

Tax Day is April 18 in 2023.

Nostradamus, Junior.

 Graduate of the Edgar Cayce School of Prophecy.

Next up, the weather.

Mel Brooks or Jack Benny?

Job satisfaction, take it where you find it.

Class warfare.

Forever and a day.

 Delusion might be a better word for it.

With just a dash of preservative.

A penny for his thoughts.

 He uses the express checkout, no stopping.

Spare change.

The Gold Rush.

 Smells like dirty socks, tastes like chicken.

The secret is in the seasoning.

A feast for the eyes.

 A well-rounded menu of chocolate bunnies, chocolate eggs...

And marshmallow peeps.

Stringing him along.

He should get the latest model Apple iCan.

Reel him in, he is hooked.

Chaos theory.

 Anyone with a plan will be expelled...

From the movement.

Slo-Mo.

 Perfect for boxing with shadows.

He gets into fights with mimes.

Dying to win.

 When dead last is victory.

Last in first out.

The guilt trip.

 His subconscious has been weaponized against him.

Who hasn't had the GPS AI nightmare?

Peaceful coexistence.

 Tolerance is breaking out all over.

They will need a secret handshake.

Price on his head.

And that's mostly hydrogen and oxygen.

Making him all wet.