I'm anti matter.

I'm anti matter.

True, I release energy when I collide with matter, but mostly I'm opposed to matter. Morally and aesthetically, I'm against it. Matter's always taking up space, having mass , why I

often think of that song my MeMaw used to sing to me as a child, "Oh dear, what can the matter be?" and I wonder what's the matter with me that I feel this way about matter. Atomic

Wings and Planet Wings are good, but MeMaw made the best wings. Wish I'd gotten her recipe before she passed. 'Course that was when they dropped the big one, a real bomb on nation.

This is how my little brother talked when he got real drunk. I could see the empty ox of wine by the toilet. I guess that means he's not going to perform the

Nutcracker Suite anytime soon. I led in a new ox of wine from the backyard. It's mournful lowing alerted my family. We filled foaming jugs under its baleful stare. My half cut bro

Kato, a hard ginger ale enthusiast, declined to participate. We would occasionally send him the stink eye as we filled our jugs with ox wine but otherwise we paid him no mind. When

we had finished off the bottle, Kato began dancing around with glee. "That was not ox wine," he chortled, "but hard ginger ale!" We ran for the Beano, but it was too late.

The Beano was captured by the woman in the red boat, who was rowing away towards Iceland by the time we spotted her with binoculars. We had to buy more Beano. Bummer! None left!

Laddie Boy spotted it first. "The sea be fizzin'!" He shouted in panic. I knew as I dipped my mug in what I would taste. As the cold ginger touched my lips I could only curse. Ale!