Author - Chris Weagel

The trouble is, I don't care to memorize the names of all your pet snakes. I don't want to learn them, I don't want to know where they went to school, I don't care about which diseases they got from your brother and which they got on their own. I've already shown I care to the others. It's all come to nothing. I won't fake it for you.
 
Your fascination with reptiles is yours. I'll worry about my surgeries and we'll just agree to paint our rooms different colors and be done with it.
 
– another preview from my upcoming “The Quarter Machine Bride”

Her rage burned hotter than Satan's fury. There would be no more coloring contests that year.

Make careful use of your qualifying asterisks. They mustn't be libelous or inaccurate, nor should they lead to a string of number talk. They must speak in human words. The machines will never know romance.
If nothing else, point your asterisks to the answers to last week's puzzle or a smaller, upside down copy of the completed maze. Never walk alone.

His magazines were gone. He had organized those magazines. Kept them clean. Every issue. Paid full price. Paid cover price. Paid it with pride.
He was thrown into a rage. There would be no rest that night.

What our beloved little town does best is remind you, over and over, that you have no choice but to take it.
 
We're so proud we put it on the sweatshirts.

Video and film and art must be shiny. It must be a finely rounded piece of glass. With blood spatters and muzzle flash and plenty of flare. Lens flare glinting off just so as it gently swoops and pans – never really resting – like your entire world exists in a goddamn auto show. And make it real deep and dramatic and never have anyone look directly at you. Always askance. Because of the shame and burden they bear. And none of it better be in focus. None at all just the tiniest of slivers of shiny metal laser swords and real guns are ever sharp and only in narrowly-related muted colors that are tumblr-approved. But still shiny as though it's trapped forever in a blister of amber with a soft light just off to the upper left. Make it look like a cough drop and give it a...

Loose Rock Roofs. We never know where obsession comes from. Shoveling and Raking and Hosing down one’s roof. Often. In all seasons, all weather. Certain obsessions can bring you closer to your community. Others drive you away. You can sit in a lawn chair on the roof and always have something to throw at enemies. You’ll be throwing your roof. Which is composed of thousands of small, fill rocks. These are what you will throw at people. And, if you hold a pile of them in both hands in front of your face, what you will hide behind when they come after you. Obsessions like photography will likely get you blinded by god. Obsessions with inappropriate roofing material will lower your property value. On breezy summer nights, you can close your eyes and pretend you’re living...

I’ve been very busy working on a new line of metal-shavings based toys.