Lately I've been stuck imagining what I want to do and what I really think. But instad of being truly introspective, I'm going to blow out and be a little inapproproate! Shame on

twas the night before Christmas? no no just kidding twas the night before valentines day

"I got you in my heart. I got you in my head. Let's make a rendezvous." "Sorry, I'm washing my hair." "No, you don't understand. I got you in my heart. I got you in my head. Let's

When my friend Caroline asked if I wanted to go see the Three Penny Opera I thought "Wow, what a bargain!". Was I mad when we got to the theatre and found what it really

The Obsidian Plinth had found itself in the "homes" of many "wealthy" "owners" and if it had any notion of ownership at all, it owned itself, but more likely it had other notions,

"Listen to this, you old motherfucker!", John yelled at to the officer. "I built all those goddamn bombs myself! I fixed them up and fine tuned them, fine tuned them for everything

Rondo pulled up for a jumper right in LeBron's face. As the ball went through the net he smiled and yelled

He went into the kitchen and got out all the fixings for the monster sandwich he called "Life". A baguette, a virginia smoked ham, pickles, beer nuts, left over grilled asparagus,

Joe wondered why he was still sitting in the stands as the game entered the 16th inning. Maybe

"I've done it!" Dr. Tinkles exclaimed, holding up a beaker full of neon pink liquid. Dr. Moodle just stared at her for a few seconds, studying the liquid. "Done what? That's just

Being a TV newsreader might seem like a glam job. In truth I hate it. The mail I get is either all smarmy or down right insulting. For instance, this one from a 25 year old lady,

Mrs. W found him on the steps of her porch. He said his name was Henry and he had nowhere to stay. Mrs. W said he could stay in the 3rd floor of her house, but she didn't tell her

"Ruusunnuppu, what a a... lovely name. What does it mean?"

Daily life in Burgograd was – to put it mildly – somewhat quotidian. Men would snap their newspapers in the dry sunny air of springtime as ladies checked their shapely legs and

Dont leave me. She pleaded. Please. Stay with me. She begged me. But i had to leave her. I'm sorry. I said. I really was. But what other choice did i have? Carli had said

What is the sound of one hand clapping? It's going to sound a lot like one hand slapping you along side the head if you don't knock it off and tell me what the secret of life is.

"Okay, okay, I'll do this just once, and then it is off to bed." The toddler nodded her head vigorously. He brought out the trampoline, the kazoo, and the ocelot.

"It's only blueberries!" I shouted after Emerald as she marched away. "Just some stupid blueberries, for God's sake". But to Emerald, it wasn't that simple.

He had to get the boy to the coast. To keep the torch lit, the torch inside. He pushed his son along deserted highways in a broken ice cream vending cart. They never ate dessert.

Between the dumpsters, he connected his laptop, syphoning power from the local McDonald's. His dirty hands tapped furiously out his latest blog. "They don't know yet, but soon