February 27, 2009 in Wordsmoker Short Fiction
There is no hope in this black-bottomed boat.
The sea skids are out in number tonight. Twitching apparitions wrenching steel from stone, girth from man-labor, and child from sink-or-swim. Tummy troubles abound in this western satellite nation. Little tremors confuse with liquid protein, oozing from every pore.
February 27, 2009 in GLORIOUS SERVER, The Internet Is Being Stupid Again, Wordsmoker Publishing
Hello browser-cursers!
Wordsmoker Customer Service (Raul and Tony) have had two complaints regarding the performance of Wordsmoker articles under the festering heap of horror-code commonly referred to in whispered tones amongst web developers as “Microsoft Internet Explorer“. It seems that some, though not all (great, that makes it easy to bug-hunt. Ed) articles produce an anti-Pro-Choice message or something saying “Operation Aborted” in fuckoffhuge letters on your computer boxes.
by Sproing
February 26, 2009 in 20 Lies About Me
1. You know that really cool, hip, hilarious and true thing you read on the Internet that one time, that made you howl and rotfl and forward it to thirty friends? The one that made you tear up a little bit at its evocativeness, and nod at its wisdom? You know, the most well-scripted lolcat evah? Yeah … that was mine.
2. “So, my nigga,” said the President, passing the joint back to me. “I’ve got a two-point plan to save the economy. Point One, everybody gives you all their money. Point Two, you look after it real good.” Read the rest of this entry →
by BalknChain
February 26, 2009 in Personal, Scary!
I never thought it would happen to me.
I’m a normal suburban working woman with a husband, 2 boys, 2 cats, 2 trucks, a dog, picket fence, etc. Alright, I lied a bit about the picket fence part; it’s actually a cast iron fence, but you get the point. Things like this only happen to people in the Midwest, or deep south, the ones that have been molested by aliens or have spoken, or even raised Batboy.
by Maelstrom
February 26, 2009 in 20 Things About Me
1. When I was eight years old, we lived in a bus for nine months and traveled from North Carolina to Texas staying in mostly Woolco and K-mart parking lots and telling people about Jesus and that we were missionaries going to the Philippines. I still don’t know how my parents expected to drive that bus across the Pacific Ocean had it not been for the five year detour in Texas. But my parents didn’t plan far enough ahead to know where dinner was coming from, yet alone what was meant to happen when we reached California. My only real regret was never meeting David Cassidy seeing as I had the perfect intro.
by saythatscool
February 26, 2009 in Forgotten Films
If you’re anything like me (and I know you are) you often think “I wonder how Al Pacino would play a voracious power bottom?” and “Why didn’t Bruno Kirby do more gay S&M?” Well your prayers are answered today my lil’ filthy monkey with a hidden gem that I like to call Cruising. Starring Big Al as the cop, Krazy Karen Allen as the cop’s girlie and a pre-Arby’s Paul Sorvino, Cruising takes you through the early ’80′s pre-Aids gay S&M subculture in a serial killer story that has multiple narrative viewpoints and no clear cut character motivations.
by Baroness
February 26, 2009 in Warhol Marginalia
In 1976, Warhol was beset by personal and professional turmoil, feeling snubbed by the “real” art world and unlucky in love. Studio 54 was a year away, but his coke-fueled acolytes and investors were busy assembling a cheap exploitation flick on which to slap his name: Andy Warhol’s Bad. It’s intriguing to think of Lucy’s TV best friend starring in a movie where a crying baby is thrown out a high-floor Manhattan window, and it almost came to be. But Vivian Vance schooled them: Sick thrills don’t pay my bills.
by Rene Sance
February 26, 2009 in Wordsmoker Word Of The Day
No one knows more about not finishing James Joyce’s Ulysses than I do. You don’t want to throw down with me on this. I can extemporize at length on the topic, and am available to do so at your next book or Rotary club meeting for a modest fee. Routinely listed at the top of lists of Greatest Books Since the Last Ice Age, Ulysses makes strenuous demands on the reader with its use of lengthy internal monologues, multiple dialects, convoluted parodies and pastiches, not to mention neologisms and puns rooted in several languages. To my knowledge, I’ve never met anyone who’s read it cover to cover.
It’s not like I didn’t have expert help close at hand when I didn’t complete Ulysses. I’ve probably consulted more works about this confounding Modernist masterpiece than anyone else (who hasn’t finished it). My tattered copy is surrounded on the shelf by reference works that crowd it like a bedraggled entourage. A dingy bookmark is still planted where I left off, highlighting my doleful progress.
February 26, 2009 in Wordsmoker Short Fiction
I am not the commonplace inquisitor you thought was coming.
They told you they would send the Tall One. They have no belief system. This is why they sent me.
I sense some hostility towards me and that is okay. I am alright with that.
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