That is what I said and I know I didn't stutter then when Gwen & Glen sold Fen Fen from My Little Pony Pinto. The car really belonged to his seafaring father. He could spin a yarn.

Our liquid sustenance at hand we decided to explore the space two steps forward of where we were now. I expected to explore the moments in between as well. I was proven wrong by a

Then the showboat rammed his arm into the inquisitive play-a-long's face. "Nobody gets to call me woolly jumpers anymore." The bbq went silent. Ted had just killed the host. Would

"Don't quote me on anything. I wash my hands of the whole affair." That sounds enough like an endorsement to me. I'm inviting all you strangers on FoldingStory to my funeral.TBA.

corruption before my very face. I was chained in my spot and he was hung where he was. I didn't think he should be counted in the rotation. This one joint had to get me through unt

I feigned remembering. "Oh yeah, you're right, there was that one woman involved," I said not knowing squat about what I was talking about. Her face goes from jubilation to scorn

Why is Death always so cold? That hood that she is wearing looks hot. Does he take it off when he has to disembark souls at the Gates of Hell? I imagine the heat unbearable there.

Then I remembered that I didn't deserves her and I didn't do anything to deserve, let alone to have her. I kept that thought way in the back where the shame had company. A Goddess

The horns in the background were throwing him off his game. He could almost understand what they were saying. It was salacious, he thought. Those horns shouldn't be spreading that.

Why wry rye, why?

Everybody writes under the influence of something. A muse is a common option. Hemingway liked the rye. Kerouac, speed.

Back in that state and bound to the laws of that state. Minutes are longer although still worth 3600 seconds on the buffet line. Share them with your fiends. We don't mind. Really,

Purloined laments borrowed from a stiffness I met in a dry well. That is all that I had left from this adventure. I couldn't claim I lost my virginity because there it was, intact.

a coma (which I did whenever I lost emotional control). I normally awoke within an hour or two, but, after my last coma—which lasted 3 days—I knew I was closer to a deeper sleep.

to get real baklava (the wife has an aversion: she can only eat baklava prepared in Greece by a Greek man named Achilles). I wrote Inside the Mouth of Her Truth on the Greece trip.

Growing up I can remember watching Gomer Pyle but I can't really remember much about it. A stray hair got me itching for some Pyle. I watched an episode. It was very well written.

My second novel will be Cobblestone's Lament. It will be about a small pebble that starts off chipped off from its Stone Consensus due to its metallurgical makeup. It can't imagine

This cobbler is barely cobbled together. I surely hasn't been cuddled. Lets not let that point get muddled. It wasn't a notion that needed to be battled like a drake after a loon.

I saw the red tree in the bowl. Walsh must be in worse shape than he was letting on. Still, it didn't seem enough of an issue to confront him prematurely. The cards had to be in pl

Some thought to call my throne my pedestal. Those same found their answers in the deserts around Las Vegas. I hope their answers were to their liking. More than the rest of us get.