( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) What're you lookin' at? ( ͡☉ ͜ʖ ͡☉) Hey, wudya mind?

Let the blood hallowed land stand as an declaration of our passing through on our way to the backside of the past. Why not offer up yourself?

December 1st has come and gone. The door to Michael Bublé's cage is now unlocked and opens by itself. He flinches from the light and breathes in the fresh air; it is time

Part of who we are is a matter of the chemical processes inside our own bodies. It's possible there exists a specific chemical combination for our own happiness. Conversely, misery

I have poisoned his mind with a word. A word so simple that he can't stop repeating it in its simplicity. He can grasp it. It will kill him the moment he's said it 616 times. Years

Any desert will do. The Gobi is just more remote which is important to our purposes. All the proper and not so proper documents had been seen to & accommodations made with local Pa

Somehow I had to let her know that I was Cheech over the moon before either of us took a step too far to recover from. “Lets go visit Rachel together.” Her head snapped around. She

I sometimes think that in order to be a great comedian, you have to be a cynic. You see terrible things, and later you make other people laugh, because it becomes funny in hindsigh

Each word was a world onto itself, each meaning a dress. I spied you wearing your spleen on your sleeve. I thought it keen. "You remind me of a Chimpanzee Detective, Link or Lunk.

There is another world, but it’s in this one. The world is not what it seems—but it isn’t anything else, either.

Without sounding totally ludicrous...oh, hell...(who am I trying to kid?)...there truly are only a handful of intellects without manners left roaming across the planet, and I'm one

If you want results that you can live with...if you want to feel pride and accomplishment...if you want to be able to look back and exude honor, happiness, and success. Call me at

After that Belgian upstart from the future published Amazing Stories in 1926, the grand yet petty barons of the times who sought to rule the world decided to crash the economy to

What if you could choose your parents—choose your place of birth—choose your social standing in life, and your skin color? What if you could pick your mood and moral focus before

Why do her chuckles sound sardonically dark, yet, when you see her in repose, she leaves you with delight—even if only for simply on a lark—she’s white and tight and more than all

The words are elusive tonight. They seem to have a different timbre when I do encounter them. They don't think nirvana is nirvana anymore. I can see what they mean but that doesn't

I hear the voices every time I breathe. I hear the voices every time that I don't listen to them. Sometimes, I pretend that I"m one of the voices to see how many of them I can fool

A broken heart was hiding on the sun one night when she realized the rent was due. What would the broken heart do? It was at that moment that a stray thought strayed into her mind.

To be clear, I was not born the right kind of toast. I had it tough. Being pumpernickel meant that I was always suspect. Everything I did was scrutinized. Real butter avoided me.

I saw her when I shouldn't have. A guy like me wasn't supposed to lay their eyes on an Imperial Princess and her bound feet. She saw me too. For some reason she didn't alert the eu