It was a hot summer day in Savannah. A little

It was a hot summer day in Savannah. A little boy named Chris really wanted ice cream. He begged his mom to take him but she refused. He now has to think of a way to get ice cream.

Since his mom won't help, Chris began to research online for ways that he could get what he wanted.

A job. That's what Chris needed. Why should he depend on his mom to give him everything after all? He realized he was a lazy ass and but that was gonna change! Chris got a job at

upon them like a gloom shadowing the earth, but at 46 Gordon was strangely immune. He dressed neatly, reported to Taco Bell early, and made gorditas with panache. The sad young

single mothers would meet for dinner at Taco Bell every fortnight. The house husbands social group only met for lunch once a month as they could not

believe that Lindsay Lohan had flipped off that judge. The house husbands would bite the throw pillows and curse the very thought of Lindsay Lohan. That is, they did that until

the Great Throw Pillow Drought of '14. House husbands scoured soft furnishing emporia but throw pillows had dried up like desert dew on a particularly hot day. Their backs were get

ting sore from stooping over, searching for lost throw pillows that might have been hidden in the nests of cobwebs beneath the barren sofas. They scratched and clawed

at the ground for lint balls they could toss at each other. I thought they'd seen me, then I speared one with the fireplace poker and hung it on my wall. It was already stuffed!