The past is a curious thing. It’s with you all the time. I suppose an hour never passes without your thinking of things that happened ten or twenty years ago, and yet most of the time it’s got no reality, it’s just a set of facts that you’ve ...
It was before him again in its completeness -- the choice in which she was content to rest: in the stupid costliness of the food and the showy dulness of the talk, in the freedom of speech which never arrived at wit and the freedom to act which never...
In mathematics or physics, infinity is greater than one or two or any number countable. In how many ways can the world be destroyed based on ordered knowledge? You may be able to count this. But the truth is, you “really” don’t know. These poss...
You know when it comes to who should govern themselves, we have old people talking around tables,” Jimmi says. “When you throw religion into the mix, you have a whole new set of problems. You can't say one has nothing to do with the other because...
Any real change implies the breakup of the world as one has always known it, the loss of all that gave one an identity, the end of safety. And at such a moment, unable to see and not daring to imagine what the future will now bring forth, one clings ...
At the age of four, I wanted to be eight. At the age of eight, I wanted to be 16. At the age of 16, when I started driving, I wanted to be a Ferrari. And now, at the age of middle, I want to be Stalin’s mustache and matching armpit hair. But only f...
Being alive means living fully extended. Like Orafoura’s cousin, who is 2.5 inches tall, but has a five-inch penis. You can’t say that’s average, because how many people do you know whose penis is twice as long as they are?
Love is something to be treated with awe. Or should it be aww? People don’t know my capacity for love. If you tried to bottle it up, I’m sure it would take at least three thermoses to contain it. And if it did get contained, would you drink my lo...
No matter how hard you try looking for love, Orafoura once told me, the last place you’ll find it is in another man’s ass. But that may not be true, because the last time I lost my boxing gloves, that’s exactly where I found them.
I remember the first time I fogged up your astronaut’s helmet. That night we made space like outer love. But I kept it cool like Coors Light in the fridge, even though I felt heavy and cramped in your chilled kitchen appliance.
You don’t love me!” Agatha shouted. When she said that, I said I couldn’t agree more. Of course I completely disagreed with her, and that is why I simply could not agree more. It took all my effort to agree to the degree that it took to even be...
When those lips engulfed my head, I said to myself later, ‘nothing else will ever touch this scalp again’. I couldn’t help it, though. I lathered sunscreen on it unthinkingly the next day before I went out. But it was the first time in the subu...
I have alchemised my love for Agatha, and turned it into gold, which is the embodiment of Orafoura. I am the Elixir of Love--hot, cold, dry, and moist, I am the quintessential element: Jell-O. Agatha makes me yummy like John Wayne rides horse radish.
Agatha had rose-colored cheeks, and thorn-like warts all over her slender neck. When we’d make love, I’d pretend I was Helen Keller and her neck was the Book of Love. I like to think I wrote that book, but I didn’t. Orafoura did.
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...
