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The old man in the bush hollered, "Don't

  • The old man in the bush hollered, "Don't forget the duct tape!" God, I...I mean I really, he's so disgusting, he's unshaven, lice and filth all over him, God I love him. This was
  • the fourth time my grandfather had sent me out for repair supplies, but I didn't care. He was family, and I loved him, no matter how dirty and lice-covered he was.
  • The clerk just laughed when I came back in the store. "Told yo!" he gloated. "Yeah, well, I thought it was three-fourths but it was really six-eights." Wait a minute. That's when I
  • gor poked his head out from behind the deli counter, eyes & lip protruding. I forgot all about the insolent clerk. IGOR! My long lost friend! "We got ham on sale this week,"
  • Just then a passing hijacked airliner slammed into the deli killing IGOR and sending me flying out the window like a scene from terminator. I immediately wondered what kind of
  • world I was living. Airliners crashing daily, nations thoughtlessly destroyed, endless pollution and reproduction, tiny homunculi raising critical drug prices 10,000%. What could
  • Go wrong next? J.G. Ballard and I had coffee together daily and discussed plots for our next collaborations. There was no better collaborator than Ballard! We used napkins to write
  • screen adaptations for his dystopian books. Ballard always allowed a lot of interpretation, basically having all ready been paid for the story. He even let me turn "Crash" into a
  • sitcom for the Infernal Cable Network. For some reason all my backers seem to think that demons like large breasts and they insist that I fill my crew with only large breasted
  • birds, like the Fake Breasted Pecker, the Hairy Breasted Swallow and Black Breasted Tit...it worked like a charm, the show was a success. Aviary Magazine gave it two thumbs way up!

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