Back On The Scene, Know What I Mean?

Today is a good day to be on my blogroll. picked up one of my stories (a guest post, actually) and I’ve already gotten over 5,000 hits today, before noon. Enjoy until the milk runs out, pups.


Do What I Say

I found a blog today that is all about people writing stories in exactly six sentences. There, I found one of the best (see: like a punch in the gut) pieces of writing I have read since I can remember, and it’s only six sentences long.

Take a moment to check out Blind Date by Quin, seriously.

Do what I say.

UPDATE: I just realized the post directly below this one is six sentences long, so I’m going to submit it.

Anybody Home?

I’m working an awesome temp job this week, but I’m a little worried about the guy I’m filling in for. First of all, he is taking the week off because his mother died. That is sad. I will not joke about that.


The sticky note that is stuck to his monitor that reads,
makes me think that that claim may not be so true.

Holy Hangover, Batman!

I was in a particularly foul mood this morning for my subway commute as I had a scorching hangover. Certainly, I was in no mood for the overzealous subway preacher than entered my car and began to scream about some nonsense regarding how he used to be a crackhead and the lord saved his life, blah blah blah.

Usually I just shake my head in disbelief that anyone would be silly enough to buy into this garbage, let alone wake up at ass-o’clock in the morning to not only admit to people that they buy into it, but actually try to convince other people to buy into it too. Unbelieveable. Anyway, this morning, I was not in the mood to pacify this moron.

I decided since he was considerate enough to force me to listen to his convictions at the crack of dawn while I’m trying to sleep on the train, it would only be fair that I let him in on some of my beliefs. Here are some choice excerpts. Everything I said was perfectly audible to anyone on the train, especially him. No matter what I said, or how loudly I said it, he completely ignored me and kept on preaching. I guess God blessed him with selective hearing as well.

Subway Preacher: I know you can’t tell, but I used to be a crackhead.
Me: Actually, I can tell.

Subway Preacher: God wants you to praise his name from our lips.
Me: No, God wants you to stop shouting at people at eight o’clock in the morning.

Subway Preacher: Like I said, I used to be a crackhead.
Me: Like I said, I can tell.

The woman sitting next to me was really offended by my comments.

Thank God.