It Has Ten Letters - Count 'em!

May 15, 2008

"Awesome" is the new "so-so".

Elrose Watermuldar

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For sale: two peanuts, one slightly injured from an incident that occured while they were walking down the street. $0.25 Box 33.
Want your friends to think you like butter? Dandelions three for a dollar. Box 11.
Confused and frightened by mazes? Why not come on out to Uncle Larry's Maze on Highway 59? It's essentially a straight line. $1. Bring the kiddies.



I Want to Rock and Roll for a Sizeable Portion of Some Nights and Party Maybe One Out of Every Three or Four Days

Provided I am Feeling Up to It

The Aging Problem

At one point in my life (and I'm not saying when) I had a bit of a reputation as a "partier". That, I realise is a hard thing to believe of a man who is now primarily known for his ability to take multiple baths in a day.

One's priorities change as one ages. You become less afraid of missing something. Comfort becomes more important. It is an easy choice for me to decide between a crazy night in an after hours club (1) and a really nice cup of tea snuggled under an afghan (the woven blanket not a resident of Afghanistan or the dog, although I have no real objection to either).

I still like to whoop it up once in a while. I have been known, on occasion, to go out for ice cream well after the sun has set. And for time to time I will listen to music composed for electrified instruments (although not so loudly any more). For me now though the joys of life are the simpler ones: a box of Girl Guide cookies eaten in bed while re-reading the Sorrows of Priapus. I have sown my wild oats. I have the proof in the bags under my eyes and the tightness of my pants (in the waistband).

I would write more on this subject, perhaps explaining just how I came to hold La Vida Loca (not the Ricky Martin song) in low regard but I just received in the mail my new Cucumber/Kiwi Bubble bath and so this afternoon I am a busy man. But rock on my friends!

Hugh Briss

1) In fact, afterhours club known signifies to me a turkey sandwich consumed after my usual bedtime.

The Exhibitionist

Melvin Thursby was a pervert. He was a sick, sick man and he knew it. But he just couldn't stop himself. His was a terrible compulsion and he knew he must not succumb to it. He tried. He tried fighting it, he honestly did. But then the overwhelming feeling would come over him and he would be, well, overwhelmed.

Then he would go out into the street at night and start looking for victims. He would wander the darkened byways and alleys and sometimes even the well lit streets, until he saw some poor soul all alone and unsuspecting. He would move slowly towards them trying, often unsuccessfully, not to look suspicious or threatening. Then when he got close enough to look them in the eyes he would do it. He would reach through the special slit he had cut in his trenchcoat and he would pull it out.

It was that moment that he relished. That exact moment and the horrified look in his victim's eyes as they realised they were staring directly at Melvin's exposed, bare and completely uncovered PIN number.

C.F. Maynard

Find the Seven Differences

Here are two pictures that seem almost exactly alike and yet there are subtle differences. Seven of them in fact (hence the name of this contest). If you can find the seven differences write them down in an email and send it to us and you might receive some sort of prize.

In order to make this contest fair, this contest is not open to Professors of Art History or Professional Curators.