I would love to kick a yowling, yapping, barking dog square in the face with my workboot. Each and every day these horrible creatures mindlessly bark at me as I walk by their owners’ homes. Their incessant screaming accomplishes nothing. It doesn’t even burn calories. They get fatter and fatter each day, the fat pushing their eyeballs out from their skulls and swelling up their tongues. These dogs have but a single thought: destroy Chris. If only, Dear God, this metal fence wasn’t in my way, I could get my jaws on him and tear his flesh for having the audacity to walk near me. Ecstasy, true ecstasy, I would have it, Lord. The pain and emptiness of not being human would lift – however temporarily – if only I, a lowly dog, could crush him. Give me my chance...
Archive - April 2012
Another Saturday night spent ironing plastic shopping bags.
Once they’re crisp, they go right into the bubble mailer and then off to the Library of Congress.
During my evening stroll, I came upon the first sidewalk chalk swastika of spring.
Right there on Gloria Street.
The artist placed it between a smiling moo-cow and the name ‘Alexis’ in block lettering.
Reverse mortgage informational seminar-themed pinball games. That’s what we design, that’s what we sell.
Check back tomorrow for the kickstarter link.
Sara says it’s time to pile up all the furniture and take pictures of it! Throw it all in a heap – even the lamps – and start snapping photos of it all. It doesn’t have to make sense! No specific order. Don’t even look at it. Certainly don’t try to use it. If your glass eye is in the end table drawer you’ll just have to go to dinner that way. Sara’s not stopping. This is smart business. Sara gets her friends to help with the bigger furniture. That weight problem won’t save the couch. Heave it on, guys! Bookcases filled with clown glass! Kick ’em over! Sara even unscrews the ceiling fan. Oh it’s getting hot in here, I can’t breathe, oh well. Throw it on the pile! All of it goes on the big old furniture mountain. Which...
The name “Medicine Hat” is the English translation of ‘Saamis’ (SA-MUS) – the Blackfoot word for the eagle tail feather headdress worn by medicine men – or ‘Medicine Hat’. Several legends are associated with the name from a mythical mer-man river serpent named ‘Soy-yee-daa-bee’ – the Creator – who appeared to a hunter and instructed him to sacrifice his wife to get mystical powers which were manifest in a special hat. SOURCE Medicine Hat, Alberta is our town’s Sister City to the North. We used to have an active student exchange program and parade float swap but interest and funding have dwindled over the years. Now we just send them our used crossword puzzle books and they pretend we don’t exist. However. Although. On the Other...
Today the town gathered up the bad kids and washed ’em all out to sea. All of them. WHOOSH! Finally gone. All the rotten kids, the little thugs and punks, kids with one eye, and all the twice-returned orphans. All of them. That weirdo that always walks by the front yard smelling like eggs – GONE! That kid who climbs up the trees and never comes down – they got him too. Police did a real fine job with it. Used gloves and nets. Big poking sticks. Didn’t spend too much time looking in the schools, either. I understand they found most of these kids down under the bridge, burning cardboard. It’s always something. They gathered them all up. Put ’em right in front of the turbine. The one they use for floods. They let old Miss Clara – bless her heart, she...
The Folly of Human Achievement Breakfast Cereal.
Only buy it if you have a coupon.