Happy caucasian intern

At night the author would see family and friends and the Easter Bunny would tell his children, grandchildren, and a student gang group one thousand secrets in down to earth language. He had no idea how to endure his mother’s dreams and questions. Not only were they baking in the sun, but they were capable of effectively pursuing their intended level of greatness. There is no available information at this time.

Lateral Wing

Investigating the murder of a contestant on a comedy game show, the enigmatic conservative preps for life in a tiny house. He reminisces about crowdsourcing diagnoses in the veterinary clinic and the $60,000 he won in a yacht race in 1987.

This epic tale about an alien protecting the West Coast has unwittingly become bland home invasion/slasher wannabe.

Swollen Brassica

There's a definite aim or goal to the frequent excursions I take to the market, I would say. There are people there who have inscrutable motives and dream themselves into my life. It feels that specific to me.

So there is a real advantage to living among them actively — looking at them and watching the way they say necessary things. I like to have something interesting in my hand to drop in an emergency.

The way I know how to act has a serious glitch encoded, depending as it does on the intricate arts of my memory, which are not my responsibility. I am not often confident that I'm being charged fairly, but occasionally I am told that I probably am, and I believe it.

Bull Dream

In a distant, highly technological future, a consummate, professional soldier manages to destroy a mysterious young man with a device. The admiral is aware.

This is a sore subject for us. Constantly enraged by our decrepit and underpowered military, we become sullen and announce a swimsuit competition.

Join Mary’s Holy Orphanage

Long ago, a gangly teen-age boy

Cherished by the dragon

The forest elves, perfectly melded

With the sparkling beast and its power

The dragon already labored to capture

Three wonderful grandchildren

One thing he inherited was a wooden souvenir

One thing he inherited was the wonderful tin TV tray

Next to a chair

The elves sealed the jagged shards of joy

In the shadow of everyone familiar

Recovering from Maturity

Coming from a military background, the 27 year old ordinary family man that enjoys the cheaper wine never can tell what mischief seventeen different authors whose capabilities he does not understand may cause. Traveling comes naturally to the man. Now befriended by a unicorn, could the traveler, a twenty-first-century man, become any more intractable?

Unicorns watched the man practice his marvelous weakness. He was left alone, equipped with unreal color.

Centaurs, trolls, and animal-headed travelers live in Illinois. If we begin with the premise that there is a very familiar malevolent future, the truth of foreign scientific government from this same dimension is directly involved in an invasion by extraordinary companions and elves.

The 27 year old ordinary family man thought for a long moment. His supernatural guardian has warned him that the beautiful unicorn has been a practicing attorney, an adjunct professor with the University of Phoenix, and is willing to share uniquely realistic inspirations, observations, lectures, and research collected over forty years.

Vibrations of the Arches

After seven years of imprisonment in a land where the undead are easy to please, a suspicious, bitter man is plagued by an ancient family. A raucous poltergeist forced him to seek every physical, emotional, mental and spiritual condition a person could suffer. His three rules of engagement for revenge:

1. 1. Keep your language and imagery spontaneous and controversial.
2. 2. Say goodbye to bland boring lifeless meals!
3. 3. Don’t scream.

The true killer has another best friend, Garry Lennox, son of a deceased technology mogul and a former friend of the young and beautiful fan of many types of literature. They are now pitted against each other in a dangerous game of complicated culpability. Did you ever think about where all those shapely clients will be revealed?

Sling Flea Beau

you can hear the exact moment when they stop caring about the history of firearms. people genuinely like missing internal parts, giving them license to merrily tinker with their emotions or situations via Skype and iMessage.

a decent man who by an accident of birth has found himself washed in blue light reminiscent of romantic tropes is fully embodying the overdriven sonics you might expect from people turning into bats. while his music remains a strong female presence that radiates beauty from the inside out, the audacity that fueled his hidden treasures and truths has seemed absolutely lost for much of the decade. that brief virality didn’t pan out.

in an effort to avoid a public act of violence, the girls and women enhance their character, self-image, and vision by developing an instantly stale running joke that honors the joy of our souls and unifies us.

Streetside Five

It is with great relief to all in the cubist roadmap that the challenge to choose a new pulverizing crowd has been completed, even if the result of the challenge was a fantastical audience of dreamed roustabouts. Very few folks know of this slow trek to deep incidents with friends.

A gleefully retired school psychologist emerges as enticing arcane echoes after the death of who he really is. Numerous victims of prayerful songs created the violent obsession of residence at the ass-end of a galaxy, far away from ghosts who ask things of the president.

Keeping Me in the Truck

Take your medicine and get some of that good oval-shaped jewelry. Young idiots who act like abandoned dogs are jumping in the public showers; law enforcement professionals are planning another trip to the old moonlight. You cannot prep for a lucid moment by staying in the pleasure you've earned.

I'm pleased to have learned some secret stuff, though. Apparently, real scholars with a new team of wild authority figures have gathered in the holiday palace. Their goal is to be raised up above the highest ranked budget master. But they cannot succeed if you are not medicated and if you have not purchased enough oval-shaped jewelry from these fucking teenage swindlers.

Squirty Sadness Routine

I got singled out for being bleached and benign yesterday. Last week, my former employer sacrificed himself on the altar of deflated forecasts, and I took it as a clear sign of my own misfortune. I have to say that I am definitely surprised by the speed and efficiency of my dissembling.

I remember the day my superiors sat us down, me and my caste, so an outside consultant could read to us from the book of the castrated prophet. The combined effect of the time's content and the air conditioning left me queasy. I declined the complimentary luncheon and took myself outside. The humidity of the asphalt heat soothed me. I remember the thistledown floating then, just as it is now.

Float Drills

I was backsliding over the weekend in a cold cell with six people who claimed to be boyfriends of some other people working the downtown beat. One of them claimed to have designed an upholstery pattern that was picking up steam on some online publications. One is a cousin of one direction. One has never eaten a big mac. One has never been handed a business card. One doesn't wear shoes with laces. Okay...

I am not even angry about the other lies I heard. I am not permitted that particular freight. I think that's fair!

Slackened Remnants

Feeling felled and mystified by the calculations of the guitar and the tensed hands wielding it. The constituent parts are cold but the sum of it is warmth, and that's only one aspect of the dumb magic I've chosen. If I kick my foot, I can almost feel it make contact with a rough little nugget even though I'm not wearing shoes.

That one is walking now, the nice dashed and dotted lines from the actually yellow sun picking through his uncut hair.

Father watches with dulled curiosity. They smoke now, again. I'm surprised. The pendulum swung back to smoking fathers.

Skin with Atmospheric Marks

I guess that they hoped I could be someone who provided certification, when I was old enough. I think it was a realistic goal, I'm sure there was nothing in my wet neonatal flesh that suggested it was a poor expectation. But something changed and it became less and less probable.

There was something wrong like I had a backwards tongue, an aversion to the incredibly rare and specific theatre peddled in the academy, an obsession with crafting supposedly abandoned fake temples that actually had hidden fake people in them. Eventually it was clear that the only certification I could provide was my own relatively sophisticated costume. Which I tried to popularize with the slang word "stume" and the #stumelife hashtag, but it never caught on.

Abalone

Dawn likes the feel of a firm button, the kind that pushes back when pushed. Response, not resistance. Four buttons on the new remote have this quality. They control the input.

There's a new show about an aging singer whose aggravations and confusion manifest in subtle changes in body language. During languid shots of discomfort, Dawn reflexively pushes the input buttons, one after the other, cycling fast enough that the answer never comes.

Harmony Alloys in the Swell

There's a prayer circle in the weed lot, seven people in different tee shirts, a few with colorful water bottles, and one Cambodian expat standing above them looking pretty bored. He's hoping one of them gets bit or stung on the thigh by a bug that's had its foraging thwarted, but that's probably just a figment of an atheist's sad brain. More likely he's a nice guy whose watching these young folks in their fragile privacy and wondering how long til the last one folds.

Scribbled Eyes

It's looking for me and the background is sliding away. It happens for 5-10 seconds, I reckon. I get distracted by the way it looks and I don't count the seconds accurately.

It sort of reminds me of the art in the house I knew my grandparents in. The ottoman had a couple spots where the upholstery was like rubbed raw and slick. It was eventually reupholstered, I remember it being a big deal, I remember considerable dispute over the money exchanged. But at some level you know the furniture you own and you don't want to bring something awful into the room, something potentially awful. So you choose a similar fabric and pay the man and move on.

So the this thing my followers revere to some degree is angry, and smiling, and I have no idea why it reminds me of that house. Earlier I said "it's looking for me" but I meant "it's looking at me." But I'm leaving that uncorrected.

The Lingering Allure of Demonstration

The singers stick a palpable teenage byproduct into their everyday life, groaning, sacrificing the late-night partying of scissoring miscreants.

Doubling down on their disgruntled boys’ club and blowing up the reinvigorated programming of American vitriol, inner city rebels and b-boys draw on the sophistication of passersby looking to adopt strict rules and pass for fearsome, psychedelia-loving vehicles for eternal self-flagellation.

For generations of rhyming rivals, the loudspeakers shiver with an impressionistic savagery so dark that sociologists resonate emotionally with a cheap guy fearing what he doesn’t understand, which is basically everything.