The jars on the shelf; he noted how light some of them had become as he took them down. He scraped around the edges of these vessels, amassing what residues he could to bolster his dwindling supply.
On the table: flesh, bone and sinew, composed by the hand of either God or some predecessor into an ideal shape. Masterful. Beautiful. But with its reality existing only in form, useless and cold; no better on his table than a statue in a museum. Perhaps worse.
Whether there had once been any spark to move these organic gears, he did not know. Yet as time passed, the question mattered increasingly less to him. All he knew is that others before h
Barry almost forgot to breathe when he caught the first signs of fall creeping upon him: the Mountain Dews were changing.
He swore to himself he would notice as soon as it happened, but nature always seems to creep up on humanity. It was as if one day he looked up to see the bright, Windex and antifreeze-like hues of the summer and then suddenly boom, those day-glo orange and inky black flavors were taking over the cases.
It spread to the snack cakes next, the white of the Hostess Snoball almost seeming to blow away like dandelion fluff to be replaced by more orange and little imprints of bats. But what really drove it home were the Oreos.
WEST LAFAYETTE, Ind. — As the United States continues trying to stem the torrent of bloodshed in disputed areas around the world, some experts argue that a renovation of tactics is in order.
“Let's face it: Not killing others and/or yourself is no longer seen as the intrinsic reward it used to be,” said Dr. Norman Wheelock, Dean of Sociology at Purdue University and founder of Professors Against Terrorist Insurgencies, Crime and Killing (PATICaK). “We must offer a more appealing alternative to these extremists, and what better thing to use than our commercialism, of which we have great excess?”
It is under such reas
Being a longterm single, my lack of luck in love has been a sore spot in my life. Loneliness, envy and despair have struck me on occasion, often serving as a brick wall to my humor production.
Recently, however, I've come to realize just how detrimental an effect this periodic wallowing has had in my life and those of my friends. Something had to change; I needed a new perspective. So I've fought back the best way I know how: turning my humor production onto the very thing that has caused me grief.
And you know what? It works! I haven't been this happy or excited to write something in a while. So what this is not is a cry for help or a
Man Bites Panda
Sometimes it takes a lot of work to uncover news stories to make fun of. Other times, God delivers them to your doorstep nicely gift-wrapped with a little tag that says, "Cheers!"
The case of Chinese building worker Zhang Xinyan is one of those fortuitous latter opportunities. Mr. Zhang, having had four pints of beer over lunch while on holiday, decided it would be a neat idea to intrude into the territory of one of nature's most adorable beasts; one who has captured the hearts of the world yet is unfortunately known for being somewhat inept with its young.
No, not Britney Spears. A giant panda.
Zhang jumped the fence a
The universe is cruel place. One day you can be living large, enjoying the high life among the stars; and the next thing you know a bunch of bored astronomers have booted you to the intergalactic D-list.
Just ask poor Pluto, who was recently demoted from the status of "planet" by the International Astronomical Union (organizational anthem: "Somewhere Out There" from An American Tail).
Sure, the way-back hunk of rock mugged for the camera now and then, jumping in front of Neptune, but as far as celebrity is concerned, there are more offensive planets. Take Mars' anger issues, for example; or Jupiter's run-in with herpes. That "big red spo
This half-formed heart,
I wrapped it in gauze;
tight, white bindings
because I thought it was hurt.
This half-empty heart
I filled with concrete;
hard, heavy stone
because I thought it was frail.
This shameful heart
I kept in a box;
dark and solitary,
thinking its sight held no worth.
It was a burden I held close,
until a storm wrenched it,
dashed against rocks--
until I beheld the aftermath:
the hearing of that half-heart,
open wide amid torn, wet cotton
and broken mortar,
I had forgotten it could.
And that dull, hollow beat
rang out with self-consciousness
in my ears so loud
I almost miss
Air and Water delight themselves
in playing a lover's game all day.
Air begins by brushing her fingers across Water's surface.
Tickling, teasing, taunting,
she kisses his surface.
He pretends to catch her,
sending little waves to brush against her fingers.
She dances across his surface,
playing, singing, and daring Water to catch her.
He finally jumps, enveloping her in an enormous wave,
and dragging her under, he kisses her deeply.
Bubbling up to the surface, she giggles all the way,
and then the game starts all over.
A Good Conversation
Please, my dear, have a seat. Can I offer you a drink?
I know - aren't you excited - we both are on the brink.
The tea is brewing nicely, our minds are much more clear,
So I'm glad - yes, I'm so glad - that you finally made it here.
Would you like a crumpet? They're made by scratch by me.
Diabetic? They're delicious and completely sugar free.
No? That's fine. Just relax and please, tell me your sad tale.
Make it good. Make it snappy, and leave out all the details.
Oh my heavens.
Your mother with cancer? Your father, a gun?
Alone in the world? Not even a son?
You poor, poor dear, I've g
My car runs outside the convenience store where Todd works. I'm there to pick up my friend and roommate from the evening shift, but the moment finds him stalled between his ride home and the gritty brick outside of the store. It has become the apparent site chosen by Brandi, our mutual friend who showed up before me, for a verbal showdown between her and Todd.
In a convenience store parking lot.
In front of my car.
Whose engine is still running.
A miserably cold drizzle softens my view of the two combatants through the windshield as they begin their rounds of gesturing. The ember of a cigarette as it flies around in Brandi's hand gives me
Set on fire by your lips
that gently crossed my collar bone
accompianied by your silk-soft tongue
I rushed to return the favor.
My lips began their trek across your neck
searching for something different.
Having a mind of their own, they find your ears,
nestled under a mound of curls.
Having found it's desire, my lips pull,
trying to steal your ear from it's rightful place.
Moans are emitted as we continue to drink the other up.
When the fires are calmed
all that remains is a purple ear
but oh what a lovely reminder it is.