Randy, I swear to god, you need to get out more. And you need to get a TV; being without a TV since 1990 is ruining you. I mean, when you say ‘the new Trek’ meaning Next Generation? Come on: there were three more after that, and they’ve been off the air for years themselves. And you’ve missed reality television completely. Well, okay, that’s not a bad thing, but still. Think of the Super Bowls you’ve missed. And the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Shows!
And Lovitz hasn’t been on SNL in twenty years. Quit quoting him already. It’s not funny anymore.
Title by: Kaden James
Story by: David
2 people like this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by David Blackstone.
By admin
– August 19, 2010
I see you in my cereal bowl. I see you the night before you flew to Austin, when you came home hugging two huge bunches of mums. “Think of me when you look at ‘em,” you said.
“I don’t need to look at anything to think of you,” I said. I smiled knowingly, “What do you look at to think of me?” I slid into your side and stayed there safely until the next morning.
This morning, you’re in Columbus, Ohio, and the only thing you left me are those two bananas. When I look at them, I think of you.
***
Title by: Missy
Story by: Nick
3 people like this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Nick Faber.
By admin
– August 18, 2010
We were trying to show Steve a good time. The poor guy’s spent his whole life stuck in that damn chair. So I distracted him while Evan dropped a hit into his Ensure.
I thought he’d bust out some trippy science breakthroughs. Instead, he started chanting, over and over, in that creepy computer voice, “I MUST BE NAKED AND FREE.”
Yes, we took his clothes – just to make him shut up. But then he looked so shriveled and pale. I had to do something. The sunflower, it was my idea.
But taking photos, that was all Evan. I swear.
***
Title by: Anonymous
Story by: Jenny
3 people like this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Jenny Nicholson.
By admin
– August 18, 2010
The thunder rolled, and the house rocked. Somewhere below them down the cliff, the waves crashed against the rocks, wearing them down, eroding them away. In a million years this parcel of land where his family’s home had stood for so long would be gone, fallen into the sea. He found the prospect oddly disquieting.
For now, they ignored the noise and the impending doom, and ate silently around the table. They lit candles when the electricity failed, as it often did. Soon the gloom would give way to pitch dark as night fell, and they would try to find sleep.
***
Title by: E.K. Ellington
Story by: David
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by David Blackstone.
By admin
– August 17, 2010
There was once a woman so evil, she would menstruate snake venom. Should would lift her dress up and spray herself on to the school children, heading to school. Thus, the reason why school children avoided the Buckley Bridge. But Little Johnny Jacobs was a bold one. One day, he grabbed his books and just headed toward it. His friends begged him not to, but he was unwavering.
“That’s the stupidest fucking legend ever,” he said, and walked across the bridge as he friends ran the opposite way.
The next day at school, he just wasn’t the same little boy.
***
Title by: Liz
Story by: Jarvis
2 people like this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Jarvis Slacks.
By admin
– August 17, 2010
The thing about the moon is no atmosphere, and eventually you start to fantasize about blue skies. On Earth, I used to wish upon a star when I needed an indignity dignified, but as I walked out of Luna Studio B with my trusty cardboard and foil sidekick, Robo Doody, slung over my shoulder, none of those familiar white dots that hung around my head, glaring, had anything to offer me. I kept hearing Vic, my agent, glibly relaying that if I “trend any younger, baby, they’ll have to install TVs in pregnant ladies’ bellies.” I thought they already did.
***
Title by: Anonymous
Story by: Nick
2 people like this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Nick Faber.
By admin
– August 16, 2010
I can’t believe they actually made this movie in today’s Hollywood. And how they got Andrew McCarthy to come back I’ll never know. But at least this time they didn’t go the silly summer comedy route. Making Bernie a Voodoo-style zombie was a stroke of genius.
It was probably a mistake to take the girlfriend to see it, though. She doesn’t like horror; at least, not torture-porn gore-fests like this one. I mean, the dinner scene alone was enough to make her want to split! You haven’t seen it? Oh, the dinner scene. I have one word for you: gravy.
***
Title by: David S.
Story by: David
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by David Blackstone.
By admin
– August 13, 2010
Tahlia Newland woke up and then remembered that her name was Tahlia Newland. Why couldn’t she be named Samantha. Something easy. Amanda. Jill. There were girls that exist named Jill. They walk around the world as Jills, and no one knows anything different. Tahlia rolled out of bed, put her hands to her stomach as she always. She was getting chubby. Too many nights and too many beers.
“Today,” Tahlia said. “My name is Jill.”
“I thought your name was Tahlia,” the guy in bed next to her said. What was his name?
“Jill,” Tahlia said. “You call me Jill.”
***
Title by: Anonymous
Story by: Jarvis
1 person likes this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Jarvis Slacks.
By admin
– August 12, 2010
They were my favorite. I was just like that kid in that one video, who played his music too loud in his bedroom until Bon Jovi burst through the poster to save him… wait, that was Nelson…
Well, I was like that other Bon Jovi song, I needed “Nothin’ But a Good Time…”
Poison.
Well, Bon Jovi really was my favorite, I was just young…
Oh, I remember, I liked hard rock and rap, so I set up a boombox in my bedroom, blasting Run DMC, while I stood outside of the door, pretending to bang it down like… Aerosmith.
***
Title by: Gerardo
Story by: Nick
1 person likes this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Nick Faber.
By admin
– August 11, 2010
They pushed their way through the front gate, but he fought them. He managed to drop two with the shovel before losing his grip. The hedge clippers impaled one nicely through the eye and felled it. The snow shovel was less successful. By the time they’d pushed him back to the front door, he was swinging a baseball bat, and when that got too slick with blood and viscera, he was knocking them back with his grandmother’s cast-iron coat rack.
There were fewer options in the kitchen. When he found himself flinging baked goods he knew he was a dead man.
***
Title by: shintipple
Story by: David
1 person likes this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by David Blackstone.
By admin
– August 11, 2010
