I began to wonder...Should the word "lead" legally be allowed in such a sentence?

Guido Heaven

This is where they go in the end. It is a Sheraton in Long Island.

an archival anecdote.

Dear Forest Person #47,

Thank you for understanding I could not make the supper club last week. I got really caught up with my homework and that murder that occurred on my neighborhood block. On a separate note, my azaleas & geraniums seem to be sprouted just fine since your irrigation spell was given to my family crest holder. I suppose I must thank you for such giftings.

Tonight we are celebrating the birth of the Northern Crop Lights. You are more than welcome to attend the festival. It shall begin at approximately four-forty seven western arabic time standard. Look for me in the paisley creme halter top!

With Warmest Regards,

Janice

boinking? x2

boinking anyone?

Bobo!

Julius Knows Best, my dear acquaintance Hilde.

(curvy)

Buddy Revell vs. Craig Mattey

Thank God, For a Second I Was Afraid the World's Axis Had Changed. All is Well Again.

In Coordinates of Planar Reality

An Insight into the Mundanity of Mundane Life:

Conversation One:
Approx. 2:47 p.m. Eastern Time

Random Man: Hey Kev! How ya doin', buddy?

Kevin: Hangin' in there, hangin' in there.

Random Man: Kev, take it easy, my man!


Conversation Two:
Approx. 5:16 p.m. Eastern Time

Deli Sandwich Maker: Yo Ryan!

Ryan: Yo!

Deli Sandwich Maker: How much is your discount at Hot Topic?

Ryan: 40%!

Predawn Episode

This past Wednesday morning, while eating breakfast, it occurred to me that I might have experienced an episode while undertaking a predawn search for earthworms in the garden. As I filled in the second to last of nine holes of exhumed earth, a never before experienced feeling of grief flooded my night smock, followed shortly by an after current of hot and botheredness.
It came as a bit of a delayed reaction to the fact that I had yet to recover not even one night crawler, and I was closing in on the last deposit.
The outlook for the last of which was bleak.
As I turned to take on the expected fate of my now doomed recovery efforts, I realized that I was in another presence.
This would perhaps explain the mysterious shortcomings.
"Don't waste your time...They're off, carrying out my busy work."
I heard and felt these words in dolby surround, as if they came from my own inner mouth.
But these words were uttered from another mouth.
The mouth of a foreign looking man, whose composition I now have trouble recollecting. Distinct but separated details in his appearance refuse to coalesce in my memory.
I recall him being in many changing shades of blue.
He wore garments with irregular leathery patchwork.
I never looked him in the face; for some reason never felt inclined to.
Plus I just assumed it was more or less veiled by his draping hair or perhaps a dark fabric of sorts?
It didn't matter.
"And what busy work is that?" I replied
"Converting the masses." he preemptively retorted before I even verbalized my reply.
"I see...I guess my business is done here. I better fill in the last hole and wash up before sunrise."
"Yeah, it's probably not a bad idea." he said
So I did just that and as I walked back up the path to the shed to put my tools away, my feelings of doomed fate seemed to dissipate along with the dewey morning mist.
No earthworms today.

Mexican Man's Tatoo

French Canadian Turd Burglar.

Dingler Dangler: One Can Hear His Chin Making Noise Sounds.

QUESTION OF THE DAY:

Why is one sock always lost during a wash cycle?

Fuck you, Carrie Bradshaw.

Truth Slayer.

Sliders

Sphincter Cuff

Relish in sirony, sad-irony.

For a second there I pictured you post-natal.

You were sitting on a mirror counting the orbital breaths of your cuff.

How smooth the texture was on that very first Sabbath.

When it turned from blue to red and you had the faded letters B.U.R.D.E.N. inscribed on your brow line with magnum ink.

It was challenging to look at you and not think of the Sour Christ.

And I'm pretty pedestrian when it comes to social enterprise.

But I must say after all, it was pretty renegade of you to tilt your eggs.