I didn't like my tone when I told myself, "I HAD to cut my hair right now!" As in obligated. Fuck that noise. "I don't have to cut my hair. So, I'm not cutting my hair. Not today."

I only have the one hair. So cutting it becomes a thing. The last time we strung it all the way out it was just over 75 yards long. They gave me the length in meters too, I forget.

They let Aliens attend our college, and they forced aliens into the dormitories; they filled us with fear. Before long, our skin turned green, and tentacles grew out of our head.

Conrad’s wife ran away with a professional wrestler named Rick. Rick went to prison for tax evasion. Since Conrad was the prison’s head cook, he decided to spit into Rick’s food.

To put it mildly, Fred was a worthless piece of shit; he was the cigarette lighter from a 1961 Ford Cortina, and he stank to high heaven of Aunt Bertha’s month-old tuna casserole.

It was a Monday. A day like any other day except it was Monday. It didn't know how to be any other way. Monday it was, Monday it did. Except when it dreamed about being Arbor Day.

I sure am glad I came across that last story that mentioned hash browns. I'd forgotten that I was in the middle of making some. Got there just in time to do them right. They told

Mick, and his hetero-paternal superfecundation twin brother, Mitch, are psychopaths with borderline personality disorder; they both display sporadic periods of schizophrenia. Mick

Eddie Money, Johnny Cash, Johnny Paycheck, and Jewel dashed into a sperm bank to get out of the rains of fire that were falling from the new small moon in the sky above Omaha. They

Spent the 19th year of my life playing shortstop for the Pine Bluff Rednecks of the South Southern league. My roommate was a four-foot-tall sinker baller named Richard Hatedude.

It was a Sunday, in the Summer of the year; the wealthy masses amassed on the front row seats to Outer Space and beyond, but on this Sunday, the Bionic Troubadours were headliners.

Every time they tell me, "That's all she wrote", I ask the same question. "Then who wrote her suicide note?" I remember the first time I saw Claribelle. The Finnish Station at the

In the mid 70s grocery stores that were open 24 hours, in Toledo, could be counted on one toeless foot. In a matter of life or death, where does one find a pineapple at 2:37 AM?

Ij noticed that my formative years are not known as the olden times by this new generation. It is all lumped together, in their minds, with the World Wars, Gallipoli, the Boxers Re

Just before I left the room I turned off the light and turned to look at them in the dark. Most were quite surprised to learn I still had a soul. My own, in fact. Tomorrow they can

The Wizardry sent you to me because nobody else can reach you. Well, here, I won't be trying to reach you. If you want to finish alive, you'll have to do the reaching. No coddling

The Other Side had been building up their Wizard Corp for between 34 to 81 years, depending on which schismatic you placed your money on. We've only had 2 years. We're outclassed.

For all his bravura, we couldn't understand why Adam's dead wife still needed a wig maker. She never saw her new wigs. The crypt was sealed. Still, Adam was spending a lot of coin.

Shared a cab to the airport with a movie star & calmly told her I cleaned my rifle looking at her naked photos I uploaded from cyber space. “Downloaded, Stupid”, She corrected me.

"I ran afoul of the gravity once," began Quirfaaghbay as he settled his exoskeleton into his pit. "Gravity was the new guy. We old timers had seen his type come and go." Here he