I woke up in a cold sweat — I'd been dreaming again. I dream every time that I sleep on my back. Always the same dream, I'm curled up in an ice cream cone, a tongue getting closer.

After a bad date with someone I met on other personals sites, I often found myself folding late into the night, sometimes until dawn. But since I discovered FoldingSingles.com, my

So, the other day I was drowning my sorrows at the local bar, when Mr. Clint Eastwood himself came up to me, and said "Hey kid, crying is for babies, come with me." And so he took

Una historia no contada es una historia por contar....cuando era niña mi pasatiempo era salir al jardín y sentarme sobre el césped a imaginar cosas...cualquier cosa...

"Exit stage left." said Martin with a flourish before returning to his cubicle. Big Bob rolled his eyes, swiveling his chair back towards his monitor. Chewing the fat with Martin

He was a close-minded conservative bigot, she was a spoiled liberal lunatic. They both shared a love of Dr. Seuss and musical-comedies. They got married.

My uncle sat back in the chair and laughed. "...Reminds me of the time there was a mixup in the toy factory and one of the homemade movies made at the North Pole was sent out to

"Canglisons and Tpridores! Are you ready for the Intergalactic Hippodrome Extravaganza!? On this Lunar Shadow, we present the main event: STONE CARNAGE MELEE'S!"

"Why can't I rip the tag off of the mattress??!!!" Stacy knew why, but she did not let on. She wanted Terri to

Some stories have all the luck. Some stories get all the breaks. Some stories have all the pain. Some stories do nothing but complain. Woo woo woo woo woo woo woo woo woo

I turned the corner to find a ravenous horde of undead staring back at me with black, lusterless eyes. A tumbleweed picked that moment to pass by as I dropped my ice cream cone

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single wiener dog in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

Somewhere on FoldingStory is a story entitled "Falscheweh," & if you read it, you go insane. It's the one story you can't find in Search, and its authors are a mystery. Written in

I hate listening to baby boomer's talk about "their" music. They are so smug about it. And it's ALLL they talk about. Their parenting skills suck, but wow, that music was great.

Sanic da hedghod and Tail the Echidna were walking through Gren hell zome, when all of a sudden Eggpan came and hit us with a boopy hammer. Then Jon was all like "DA BOOPINIST" and

I sing a song of heartbreak, of sadness & misery too. I sing a song of all the things that make a person blue. My heart is like a daffodil, it seems so bright and happy. But when

"I don't see where...oh, here it is." Dr. Crane paused.The doctor looked again at the chart, then at the stitches across Ralph's scalp, then at Nurse Nancy. "Are you sure?"

I was tending bar at Mel Cooley's when Alan Brady sat down and ordered a Buddy Sorrell on the rocks, but I screwed up and served him a Sally Rogers straight up, and he got pissed

What are you looking at? Strike a pose. Vogue.

My psychiatrist told me that my friend Simon is a schizo. I think I need to stop talking to him, wouldnt want to become one too. But he always appears out of nowhere.