January 2010
18 posts
December 2009
12 posts
The Ten Days of Christmas
[I wrote this in December 2001 and now I’m regifting it because I couldn’t think of anything else to get you.]
1. I’m fingering bath balls like Captain Queeg. Mom’d prefer the, the what, the Serenity, maybe? Or the Sandalwood Rejuvenation? Or better yet just go for the pre-wrapped basket with the goat’s milk soap and lavender sachet?
2. Identically pinched...
The Wife
snickr:
Fireland is, what? 15 years old? I’ve been around for 10 of those years. He’s like a crazy scientist, retiring to his office at odd times, requiring absolute silence and secrecy. Headphones on, intently focused on his art. Who knows what he’s doing in there. One time I caught him watching Pirates of the Caribbean.
I still like extremely really loud music. But? But it distorts my right ear. It distorts, in an unpleasant fashion, what I like to call the Pixies-shaped hole in my eardrum.
Have You Seen My Billboard
It’s over there by the Popeyes. You’ve seen it. C’mon, what? You can’t miss it. Quit lying. Towering over that vacant lot? You know. Where we used to go smoke and have sex with people? Back in the day? OK yeah no I never smoked or had sex there because hello, uh, snakes, but I’m pretty sure you were there basically every weekend unless my eyes were making up lies....
The Very Last Fucking of Steven Tyler →
perpetua:
It is very easy for excellent writing on the internet to disappear after it becomes “old”, especially when we’re dealing with content from very obscure sites like Kevin Fanning’s defunct The Cold Inclusive, but this post from two years ago is a total masterpiece and worthy of renewed attention. I’m not going to spoil it for you. If the title grabs you — AND IT FUCKING SHOULD! — go read...
We are social animals, you and I, and indeed we like nothing better than to...
– Dean Allen on Flash, 24 September 2000
1 tag
First Draft Twitter No. 004
By the time I finish shaving and getting in the harness and queuing up Toy Story I’m not even in the mood anymore.
» final draft
Sweet Tumescence
Another NaNoWriMo has come and gone. ‘Round midnight last night I wrote the closing words of my novel, set down my pen, and enjoyed a celebratory flute of champagne on my balcony, the city lights sparkling like magical golden jewels or amulets.
I am very pleased to share my latest work, entitled Sweet Tumescence, with you, my friends.
Chapter 1
Savannah True was the best locksmith in town....