I Loathe the UndeadI Loathe the Undead11 years ago in Humor More Like This
I loathe the undead.
They're always whining about "brains" and "guarrrgh" all the time and they're clawing at you with their nasty clammy maggoty-infested hands and biting your wife with their rotten yellow teeth and trudging along in a big stupid horde, losing their limbs all over the place and blocking traffic like they owned the world. Would you believe there was a zombie stampede on the I-41 this morning? Yeah, they held up traffic for like an hour. It was a huge stampede. They made me late to work and I think they almost cost me my job. Never mind that the boss has been later for less important reasons than a zombie stampede.
Some day I'm going to stick him in a room with a zombie in it and see how he likes it.
Anyway. I would have been later to work this morning ('cause I think that stampede's still going on, I mean they just said on the news half an hour ago that the last body count was like sixty, and that's way too many for just an hour-long stampede) if I hadn't gone and inst
Case of the Hiroshima HotelCase of the Hiroshima Hotel10 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
I knocked on the fifth floor hotel door and it flew open almost instantly, sending me a step back into the hallway to avoid running into the shoulder of the young man sticking his head out, and his two companions pushing out the door behind him. All three started talking at once. I hadn't initially believed them when they had called me on the phone, but the emotions and excitement spilling from their mouths were genuine. Maybe they weren't pulling the my leg. The three males sputtering and tripping over each other's words were appropriately nicknamed Waldo (since we had two Andrews on the trip, and Andrew Wald was used to the nickname Waldo), Mikio (which means "tree trunk man" in Japanese, which was how Mikio was built), and Jesus (who looked like the common image of Jesus -- long brown hair, beard, and skinny beyond belief). Jesus had opened the door and was giving the most animated story. I held up my hands to stop them from all speaking over the others, and asked what h
The GirlStars.The Girl4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Every night, she focused on the stars above her head as the monster invaded her room. It's wet tongue and hot breath sickened her almost as much as its touch. She knew what the monster wanted. It was time to let the Stars take her away again, and forget this pain.
Every day in school seemed the same to her. She tried to focus, but the nightly monster attacks just made it so hard to study. In fact, they made her fearful to do anything, really. She just sat in the back of the classroom drawing stars all over her books and papers while the teacher droned on and on.
She had almost resigned herself to the fact she was never going to escape the cycle when she met a purple pony named Twilight Sparkle one Friday after school. This pony was just like her in ever so many ways. She hid from the world, she didn't have friends, and she even liked the stars. The girl and Twilight soon became fast friends, and the girl soon was joining in on everything her new friend Twilight Sparkle experienc
Biology of the Staple RemoverBiology of the Staple Remover10 years ago in Humor More Like This
The Staple Remover (Connectiva Chompicus), while one of the smaller creatures in the office, still holds the reputation as a much feared predator in the ecosystem.
The most prominent characteristic of the Staple Remover is its four long fangs that give it an almost menacing smile. Non-venomous yet quite sharp, these fangs are capable of latching on to its favorite prey, the Staple, even when it is firmly rooted in its most secure habitat. Its deathgrip secure, the Staple Remover crushes the helpless Staple's defense and drags it out for a viciously rewarding meal. Although more often observed as a solitary animal, a pack of Staple Removers has been known to strip the metal from a conference presentation in less than a minute.
Once a year, the male Staple Remover instinctively returns to the office supply store where it was purchased to engage in a savage mating ritual: the capture and takedown of a Multi-use Color Copier. Many are lost
a little help from my friendsliarsa little help from my friends6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
though we were
never really seperate
i had a
dream we were
drowning outside your
lost in goodnights and goodbyes
there are lies
between our lines
can we really call this home
waves and crowds still
i'm not too fond
yet i'm still
i haven't finished writing
my dead letters
BodiesBodies8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Dear Professor ____,
I am an inmate here in a prison in ____ and I got your name from an engaging op-ed article of yours in the Times some weeks ago. I am writing to ask if you would please consider arranging a one year subscription to the Times for me.
I apologize if you find my request offensive but I enjoy literate material and feel the newspaper an excellent alternative to a college classroom. An inmate here in the facility has a subscription and once in a while an issue will trickle into my hands, which is how I came across your piece and the enclosed order form. I should add that I don't skim through the Times but spend a few hours reading almost everything in it the way I would were I on a deserted island and had nothing but the paper to read. Only drawback is that the paper engages time I'd otherwise spend reading literature and other books. Thomas Jefferson stopped reading newspapers so he could devote more time to books, and Thoreau makes an interestin
FateFate11 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
A sunny day in the park. There is a single bench CENTRE stage. GOD is sitting on the LEFT side of the bench. He has long, white hair and a long, white beard, and is wearing a simple white robe. He is reading a newspaper. Enter PETER from the RIGHT. He is wearing black pants, leather shoes, a white shirt and a garish, comical tie. He is carrying a paper bag. PETER sits on the bench next to GOD, setting his bag next to him. He folds his hands and admires the weather.
PETER. Beautiful weather today.
GOD [focusing on his newspaper]. Mm-hm.
PETER. [Extending his hand] The name's Peter.
GOD [shaking PETER's hand]. God.
[GOD returns his attention to his newspaper.]
PETER. Um… God?
PETER. Not to be rude, but… your name is God?
GOD. I am God. Or at least I was God.
PETER. I… see.
GOD. You don't believe me.
PETER. Would you?
GOD. No. But it doesn't matter whether or not you believe in me.
Love Song of the Traitori have no gift of wordsLove Song of the Traitor6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wings i was given in their stead
to write my love across your skies
and with coal-dark quills inscribe it
on your palms
Dinosaur FactoriesThere used to be smelly old dinosaur factories,Dinosaur Factories8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Offensive to all of our senses olfactory;
The public complained they were dissatisfactory
In the rate of production of things pteridactory.
Those factories were, as I've heard, quite eyesores,
And each day they sent out big earsplitting roars
The government issued a ban, furthermore,
And that was the end of the great Dinosaur.
DownfallDownfall8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
Communist QuotesThe Anthology of Communist QuotesCommunist Quotes6 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
"Capitalist production, therefore, develops technology, and the combining together of various processes into a social whole, only by sapping the original sources of all wealth - the soil and the laborer." -Karl Marx
" Capital is dead labor, which, vampire-like, lives only by sucking living labor, and lives the more, the more labor it sucks." -Karl Marx
"You show me a capitalist, and I'll show you a bloodsucker." -Malcolm X
"Democracy is the road to socialism." -Karl Marx
"Greek philosophy seems to have met with something with which a good tragedy is not supposed to meet, namely, a dull ending." -Karl Marx
"A revolution is impossible without a revolutionary situation; furthermore, not every revolutionary situation leads to revolution." -Vladimir Lenin
"Capitalists are no more capable of self-sacrifice than a man is capable of lifting himself up by his own bootstraps." -Vladimir Lenin
"Crime is a product of social excess." -Vladimir
Anti-Twilight ArticleThe Twilight series, written by Stephenie Meyer, has become a smash hit all over the world, selling 25 million copies worldwide and 20 million in the United States alone. Twilight, the first book in the series, has been named a New York Times bestseller and Publisher's Weekly Best Book of the Year. Quite a shame, considering the substandard quality of these novels. In asking fans what precisely they loved about these books for the purpose of trying to discover exactly how such novels have become fabulously popular, it seems to boil down to three reasons: One, Twilight is entertaining simply for a fun read, with a rather unique plot line. Two, the fluffy love story appeals to the inner romantic in many, many girls and women. Three, Edward Cullen.Anti-Twilight Article7 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Twilight in a nutshell: Isabella(Bella) Swan moves to Forks, Washington and meets the Cullens, the impossibly beautiful vegetarian(meaning they only suck the blood of animals) vampire family. Edward Cullen, the only single vampire out of the lo
David's Story."Living on the road my friendDavid's Story.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Was gonna keep you free and clean
Now you wear your skin like iron
Your breath's as hard as kerosene
You weren't your mama's only boy
But her favorite one it seems
She began to cry when you said goodbye
And sank into your dreams" - Pancho and Lefty by Willie Nelson
I guess I should start from the beginning...
I was born in a one room rundown shack. Ha, nah. I was born and grew up in a lower middle class town. I had a friend named Earl, who I used to play soldier in the woods with. My family moved away from there when I was nine. My mother said that's when I changed. I didn't bother making any friends at the new school, I just kept to my books. From an early age I had a strong attraction to firearms and war. No idea why, I just did. After the move, it became almost an obsession. I spent hours reading up on different designs of guns, tanks, planes and so forth. The other kids shunned me as "that wierd kid", but I didn't even notice it.
My teenage year
Diray Of An Angel +tearjerker+Gee whizz!Diray Of An Angel +tearjerker+9 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Hey look, hey look,
They're eating Shizz!
"No look at me, no look at me! Can't you see why I feel o so Crap-ee?"
I toss and turn, inside my bed,
Why can't I get these images out of my head?
It's torture, man, it really is
I desperately need soda fizz!
Wake me up, I hate this dream, Feed me caffine,
Sew the Seam
In the Broken Beam
Of life love and hatrid high
Free our souls and wash them please,
God forgive us we meant not to tease
I wake, its over now,
The dream deceaced
I'm Scared for life, my brain has creaced
My God, I'm bent, my brain my life
My time, arrived
Please no! I've learned to love this world!
I'll give anything just to stay alive!
Just to tell them that I've said goodbye,
That I aploagize for every lie
I love them all, no doubts there
I'll miss them! Come on! Please, not now!
It's a different world, Heaven is.
It's cloudy, sunny, and pealy white all over,
I'm lonely, now, so I look around.
But wait. What's that I see?
Young sir Davi
That DressYou bought me that dressThat Dress8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Left dangling from copper wire,
Unworn, but admired
In my closet.
I don't dare to wear it,
Not for your touch imbued in the fabric,
Not for the fact you picked it yourself,
But for it makes me feel beautiful
And it's that which reminds me of you.
runing through trafic withoutuJust plant yourself in my soilruning through trafic withoutu6 years ago in Other More Like This
And wait for it to grow
I'll water you once a day in case
Connecting root to earth so strong but sour acidity we like to play
in fertile depths
I sat my self in soil just yards away from your door
waiting for time to elapse and rain to fall but I cant grow with out
sinking feeling the roots latch into the earth,
without your love im doomed to death with lack of
and yellow leaves.
I'd rather sink so far in bleach you poured
Than wait to wither and dust to fall.
TrendyTrendyTrendy10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Carlos is a friend,
is 34 floors up,
with a balcony and a view.
He has a poster on one wall,
in letters eight inches high.
A sign on the door,
with a picture of a finger,
bisecting androgynous cartoon lips.
Carlos throws parties,
glittering cocktail soirees,
for the artistic set,
he brings home from the gallery.
Carlos is an artist,
He holds court on a corner of the balcony,
discussing his art,
with a flowing dance of signs.
He glares imperiously at random conversations,
and points to the sign on the wall.
"I can't hear myself think."
and returns to his conversation.
rich, well connected and beautiful,
whisper self-consciously to each other,
so as not to disturb the artist,
silently discussing his work.
Can't Stop Thinking Of YouCan't Stop Thinking Of You12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Shy away from the light
Crying out into the night
I don't know what to do
Can't stop thinking of you
Your always on my mind
These feeilings I can't define
I don't know what to do
Can't stop thinking of you
Tender nights I lie wakeing
My poor heart is acheing
And no matter what I do
Can't stop thinking of you
My body is sore
All I ask is No More
But know matter what I do
Can't stop thinking of you
Don't stop me now
While I'm thinking of you
Don't tear me out
I'm thinking of you
Can't escape this dream
Its all about you
But your all that I see
When I'm thinking of you
CordycepsIm wondering what you sawCordyceps8 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
in the sentences of my face
in the audible few that flew
leaving the rest to my mouth, encased
They tear at my tongue,
drag claws through my teeth,
Why now? Not now!
I keep my lips shut
hold my eyes down beneath
my swaying hair-
the winter sun a flashlight through my fingers
when we were children
we felt the warmth
Im wondering if you taste my blood
leaking from my slimy wounds
like cherries crushed, a juicy flood
I presume too much!
but bliss is
inviting as goose feather pillows
and warm as a womb
Im roused from my sleep
of the waking day
into the thick lucidity of restless dreams
Tin and GoldOutside the forge he labours dailyTin and Gold5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In the heat of sixteen-hundred degree smiles
Stoked by one breath from his wife's lips
until his own existence burns him.
In the warm dark he lives
In the forge his shaky hands are sure, working
from hunched lumps into things of use
Day after day he tries to pound his soft heart hard
But it will not take an edge, not even that of gold
To conduct a line of his should-have-been father's making
It is no rich useless gold, but tin
Of which ten thousand things are made for a purpose which is in the end
To be discarded.
The Lady's EulogyThe Lady DeVaun was a weighty and long young woman. She had a long face that was framed with pieces of her long, straight, chocolate brown hair, the rest of which was always, and I do mean always, pulled up into a tight bun. She had long fingers and long arms. Her feet were long and her legs were long and her torso was long, too. She also had an unusually long neck. Her buxom figure and her length made her a very large woman and everyone thought it odd that she would marry such a small man as Lord Devaun who was only five feet in height and naught but skin and bones. It didn't matter what anyone else thought, however, for the two were very much in love.The Lady's Eulogy9 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Lady DeVaun also had an intense love for the color yellow and she wore this color every day no matter what the occasion. At funerals she was spotted with ease in her frilly yellow dress among the sea of black. Nobody minded much for most believed she wasn't quite right in the head, and if they did they didn't say anything. Yellow gl
a minimalist walked into a barHe died.a minimalist walked into a bar6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This