Do you remember our first kiss? I do. Not a day goes by I don’t think of the feel of that bicuspid against my tongue. It had such a distinctive feel, neither cuspid nor molar…but I’m not sure it knew that – that was what endeared it to me so....
We made up, and I knew just how to do that. I told her, “I feel like dancing. Let me grab my dancing shoes and stick-on mustache (better to tickle your vagina with).” And she replied, “My vagina already has its own mustache.
Vanilla has become too genericized. It’s become standard, which is good. Vanilla is a household name. But the same standardization that’s made it so popular has taken the novelty out of it. Being the vanguard of ice cream has vanquished its radic...
I am Oscar Wilde’s reversible underwear. I am John Wayne’s rusty six-shooter. I am William Shakespeare’s identity crisis. I am a kiss delivered Priority Mail, to a girl named Agatha, by me dressed as a mailman.
Freud was a fraud, but he’d probably think I have a complex of some kind. Anal, oral, Orafoural, etc. While most kids wanted to grow up to be an astronaut, one of Barbara Streisand’s bras, a priest in sheep’s clothing, or an IRS employee, I alw...
You know, if a waitress asks me if I want ketchup with my fries, I’ll reply, “No thanks, I’ll just drink water.” And that’s not just a statement about table etiquette; it’s a personal quote that accurately reflects my moral and philosophi...
The pockmarked and chalk-white sidewalk was like the surface of the moon, and I felt like Neil Armstrong as I walked along in my space boots and white helmet with my visor flipped down. Of course in zero gravity, Neil probably had a more impressive e...
I can’t write anymore. My words are paper airplanes tenuously gliding towards the dust. The wonder of the Phoenicians, which throughout the latter part of this entry I have not fully comprehended, is getting vaguer still. Where did this feather in ...
The sun tells the best joke of a day full of them, setting so spectacularly that you can almost smell the tropical paradise lazing somewhere over this rim of endless, gray socialist towers. Miles of square windows explode orange, red, and purple, lik...
Does doing something old with new technology mean that I’m teaching with technology and that I’m doing so in a way as to really improve the reading and writing skills of the students in my classroom?” (2007, 214). Her answer, as well as mine, w...
Science fiction, as a genre is fundamentally about ideas. It's about asking an impossible question, "What if...?" and building a story out of the answer. Romance on the other hand, is fundamentally about relationships. The hypothetical romance transp...
Progress had not invaded, science had not enlightened, the little hamlet of Pieuvrot, in Brittany. They were a simple, ignorant, superstitious set who lived there, and the luxuries of civilization were known to them as little as its learning. They to...
You will never find peace with these fascists You'll never find friends such as we So remember that valley of Jarama And the people that'll set that valley free. From this valley they say we are going Do not hasten to bid us adieu Even though we lost...
Ay, that I had not done a thousand more. Even now I curse the day—and yet, I think, Few come within the compass of my curse,— Wherein I did not some notorious ill, As kill a man, or else devise his death, Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it, ...
the truth will set u free but first it will piss u off
Game... Set... Match Bitch! ~Alexandria Bell
This, then, is the test we must set for ourselves; not to march alone but to march in such a way that others will wish to join us.
To go out with the setting sun on an empty beach is to truly embrace your solitude.
Essex is an amazing county, with its own set of rules. It's a completely different world.
Performance art can be produced in a coffee house setting.
You know, it set you at war with yourself.
