Hats. Of every shape and size. I love them all. You may call me crazy, or you may not. I love them all, of every color and make. I make some, I find others. I keep them all by my side, and drink my tea as I study them. Who am I you ask? Some strange Hatter? Well to be more precise i'm a MAD Hatter. Yes that's correct. I am a bit mad, but who isn't? Hats just so happen to catch my fancy, and I love to make them. I also collect them. I can find you a...
This wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to feel this way; about your mother-in-law. But didn't the saying go, if you wanted to know what your wife would look like in 30 years...and that was another thing. She only had another few years in her. Her husband wasn't giving it to her. I'm a goddamn octo-phile, he thought. Was that the word? But she was perfect -- an insurance commercial, the cover of Mature Living, hell, the centerfold.
"Theo, is everything all right, dear?" Theo had begun mumbling to himself.
"Yes, mom. I'll have another hot dog, if you...
Travel light, but take everything with you. Words that my grandmother used to say in wisdom. And words that I've never take to heart till now. The twister ripped though our neighborhood and everything I owned was taken with it. My Children and wife stand now where our Kitchen was. With a heavy sigh, I remember those words my Grandmother used to say, I truly have all I need standing in the kitchen.
The Dapper Man picked up a penny. He brought it up to eye level, examining it critically. It was smooth, round and shiny. Its surface was unadorned, save for a shiny "1" engraved on the face.
"So, what you're saying is that I collect one hundred of these...", he began.
"...and we can buy access to the next level", came the hurried reply.
The Dapper Man eyed his colleague, doubt riding in his voice. After all, the One-Eyed Cowboy always had an angle in these dealings.
"You know, I've not been playing this game for long, but it seems to...
Didn't even stop to look the dude in the eyes before shoving him off the bridge. The coat was fancy, that's all that mattered. Resale, maybe two hundred. But I saw it happen, and I followed this scumbag as he walked three miles to a Brooklyn pawn shop. He walks in, and four minutes later he walks out looking happy. Calls someone on his mobile. I follow. The guy he meets in a subway terminal gives him pills in exchange for the coat money. I follow him home. Get in the same elevator. Follow him down the hall. Before he...
La pirogue avait appartenue à son père. Il pêchait tous les matins. Chaque matin il tendait dans l'eau son bambou dans le calme du lac. Aucun bruit ne venait déranger son activité favorite, jusqu'au jour ou un ours l'appela depuis le rivage. L'ours voulait traverser la rivière et lui demandait combien cela pouvait bien coûter. Antinoma lui répondit qu'il lui en couterait 3 poissons. Il venait chaque matin et retournait bredouille vers sa case. L'ours saurait il lui apprendre à pêcher afin que son père du haut de son paradis puisse être fier de lui?
l'ours avait peur de l'eau....
She was the most delicate girl in town, so different from all the rest.
I look at her and all I can do is smile, she's so beautiful.
I wish I could call her mine, but sadly she's already been claimed.
He's so lucky and he doesn't even realise it.
He treats her like garbage, and she knows it, yet she keeps going back.
I don't understand.
Why don't you leave if all you do is end up heart in the end?
Why not go to someone who you know will treat you right?
I wish you could see me....
Some people in masks of Guy Fawkes
Stood to protest Scientology's flocks
They wore them because
It gave them a buzz
And otherwise they'd get sued by those cocks
Wine, you are wonderful. I won't shout it, I won't be heard about above the din. Nightlife never appealed to me beyond the very notion of it. I appreciate gatherings, but rarely the gathered. And so, wonderful thou art, wine.
I got tanked on pinot gris and focused on her adoringly. She had better legs than this too expensive wine I ordered with careless enthusiasm. Yeah, she was a showgirl. It's as obvious as the hangover I'd nurse in the morning.
Time was running short, and John still had no idea where Adam had stashed it. I mean, thought John, how many places are there to hide a pelican in a Des Moines nightclub? There was no use trying to listen for it, with the mind-numbing beat of some kind of Euro-techno-disco-30's remix whatever the hell it was kicking the living shit out of his eardrums. All he knew was that if he didn't get to that pelican soon, eighteen future suicide bombers would have easy access to any entry point in the Pentagon, and it would all be his damn...