Rose-Em

--        Washing dirty socks was much like washing dirty socks. Foul, unrewarding, and rudimentarily humiliating to a boy who didn’t own any socks. Not that he didn’t have the pocket change for socks, or that he didn’t know where to find socks – he found them frustrating. They caught on his callused feet, ripping on the burrs of skin he has earned from years of running up and down the moor-side doing chores, errands and little fetch quests.        He wore through his socks and his shoes, running up and down the hill – there was no need for them anymore. However, he considered, if he had a chance to meet a ni

Forward Dear Gullible Schmuck,     Congratulations on being my, El-Zam the Mighty’s new apprentice! I’m sorry that I did not inform you to bring rain boots. It is very wet down here in the bag-bog. Mr. Bobo will keep you company. Now for your mission: I need you to clean this place up. I will get you once you have finished, assuming you get to work right away. It’s only about thirty years of nuclear magic waste...good luck! I will drop you a shovel and some cleaner about ten minutes after you enter the portal. Watch your head! Peace, The Mighty El-Zam Lord of the Bog Bag Realm Prologue After fifteen uneventful yea

    Unfortunately, the things which we are often the best at are the things we don’t like doing. Hangmen are good at executing, but chances are that’s not their passion – it could be baking. Unfortunately for Rosa Blume, she was excellent at folding laundry, but she hated it. She would have preferred to be a hangman. At least they got severance pay.    She thought she should be paid by the sock based on the recorded breaking rate she could fold. Usually her bonus was to be able to take home all the abandoned socks from the laundromat to wash and use as rags at home. Folding – what a talent to be blessed with. Being a

    A yellow dandelion flies in the same way freshly poured concrete does not. A white dandelion is another story – they are like an abundant wish bone, or a wishing well condensed into the natural eye sore of any golf course. If everyone on the planet had a dandelion to wish on, there would not be many left. Chances are, dandelions would become quickly sacred to society. As rumours inevitably spread of their enriching and mystical powers, tapestries would be sewn, symbolising a single weed’s gracious powers akin to the gods themselves.    In a world without dandelions, there is no dandelion tea, no dandelion jelly, and no Belgi

     Murder is wrong. Murder is usually, most entirely and for the most part extremely bad when it comes down to it. Shockingly enough, people thought murder was so wrong that they made laws about it. You can't murder people is what they say and they say that you can't harm animals either. That doesn't stop one from killing alien species.     The alien in question was tall, black and had eight legs. Eight long, entirely gross and disgusting legs that scurried away into dark corners with its equally—if not more-so—ugly eyes. Spiders sucked and that is really the point of it all.     There are a lot of options on what one can do

     I'm stuck in a type of an experiment that involves an extraordinarily large laundry shoot. Claustrophobic as it may be, it's one of the most comfortable experiences I've ever had. With five foot thick walls surrounding me in a sort of dull grey arena, the addition of cozy sweaters and miss matching socks really brightens up the decor.     Everyday, there are five pounds of laundry that is stacked up through a laundry shoot in the corner of the ceiling. At first, I let the laundry stack up a bit, until I decided it would be much more comfortable to sleep on an ugly sweater than concrete ground. I don't know why I didn't think of it soon

     My idea of heaven wandered around the notion of strapping antlers to my head and pretending to be a moose. The problem with this heaven of mine was the fact that when it came to moose hunting season, I was often shot. Fair enough, if you see a brown furry thing that is eating dirt and grass you will shoot the brown furry thing eating the dirt and the grass. There is no harm done there other than to my multiple internal wounds.     I find that bullet wounds tend to impress the ladies. The more you have to add to your muscle collection, the more sensitive and experienced they think you are. There is a point, however, where you can having

Given the fact that I was extremely thirsty and just a little bit upset, the fact that I had run out of toenail clippings make everything just a little bit worse. “Look, take all my fingernails and I'll pay you back later.” I said, shaking a shopping bag full of said fingernails. “No can do buddy. Do you see that sign? You know that great big one out in the front of the shop? There you have it. No debit, no fingernails. We take good wholesome toenail clippings only.” The man behind the counter was holding a coffee dangerously close to my face. Close enough that if I wanted to—and I did—I could bite hi

And so we waltzed and so we danced; to the death of his Rembrandt. Oh what shower in the hour as the black and white angora— fell in love. With a twist of the wrist, a weathered looked a chance another floor beneath my hysteria, I can see is animal. The tango took its step, another catchy tune let slip. As the tempo dropped its beat; as your loss of your own mind the time is come as— We dance and so we waltzed. The floor was cheering. Let the clop touch its cleat, with the tom-tom drums— repeat. Why it was mighty curious to take a hand so delirious. The maker took pride in wake, for the leather did not peel. As we d