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Archive for October, 2009|Monthly archive page

Ramen

In by Lara on October 31, 2009 at 5:34 pm

What are you eating?

Noodle—sluuurp.

Soup?

Yeah.

What kind?

Ramen.

Instant?

Like a Polaroid.

That’s gross. You know how much MSG is in that?

Enough for my taste buds to dance around in glee.

Way too much. Not to mention VBP and a lot of other chemical crap.

That’s fine. I live way too organically anyway. Slurp.

At least tell me you’re not eating the chicken flavored one.

Nope. Shrimp.

Oh god, even worse.

Shrugs.

Hey! You just splattered me with your chemical crap! (licks lips and tastes a little).

Sorry. Tasty, tasty chemicals.

Actually, can I have a bite?

A Bar Scene

In by Lara on October 29, 2009 at 12:40 am

In a small, crowded bar, hazy yellow light swarms haphazardly through intimate conversations and whisperings. A tall woman with dainty ankles saunters over to a man sipping a dry martini, alone.

Hey there, sugar.

Her lulling voice melts like chocolate in his ears and he can’t help lean in for more.

What are you doing over here all by your lonesome?

He smiles, but just at the corners.

Waiting for you.

She slinks in next to him, cozying up against his right side in the leather chaise.

He raises his eyebrows.

No strings?

She smirks. Only if you like puppets.

Thoughts on product design.

In by Wyatt on October 29, 2009 at 12:02 am

Product design is righteous if it seeks to improve our living condition. It walks a delicate line between improving our lives by solving problems, and harming our lives by forcing consumerist paradigms upon us. I love design, am fascinated by the prospect of making the world a better place, and know how tragically easily humans turn to consumerism to solve problems it never can. I need to know that product design can make the world better and not just persuade us to squander our money on misleadingly advertised trinkets that eventually leave us with nothing more than empty lives and wallets.

My stapler ate it?

In by Lara on October 27, 2009 at 5:13 pm

Last night, my stapler and tape dispenser came alive and formed a mutiny. Before creeping over to my bed, taping my mouth shut and stapling the blanket tight preventing my escape, they maliciously bent the paperclips out of whack, pushed the pushpins into the ground, and ripped the post-it notes into shreds. And then they destroyed my computer. They were tired of being under appreciated. Now, who knows where they went. They may be sabotaging countless others. But I want you to know that I was the first victim. And that is why I do not have my homework today.

Strange thoughts. Mainly hybrids.

In by Lara on October 27, 2009 at 5:08 pm

A turkey gator: a strange hybrid turkey with scales, a long snout and sharp teeth. It still gobbles.

A flying squirrel vampire preys on unfallen acorns.

A hot dog rolled in steak is fried in cheese and eaten.

Spamsicles.

Dust bunnies and monsters in the closest copulate and form one giant dust bunny monster.

Taxi hummers can get through any kind of traffic.

Ghost sheep. Actually countable in sleep.

A jello pillow.

Fork fingertips. Never need cutlery again, but may poke people accidentally.

Bra pockets. They hold coins too!

A bird with a flat beak. Oh wait, that’s a duck.

Hallow’s Eve Run

In by Lara on October 27, 2009 at 4:42 pm

It had been a sunny day, and now with a swollen moon, it was an equally glowing night. The smooth roads were primed for running. The cool air she breathed was fresh and reminiscent of autumn leaves and mist. Instinct told her that there was something vaguely disconcerting about not being able to see the ground beneath her feet, but she ignored it and through her head back up to the sky. As she passed a lamppost, she saw her shadow in the distance, her legs long and spindly. She chased it eagerly, and laughed on into the welcoming dark.

Sorry to shatter your dreams, but…

In by Lara on October 27, 2009 at 1:33 pm

Turns out Snow White wasn’t named after her fair skin. She was a cocaine addict and what they call a “crackwhore.” That explains the seven small men.

Last anyone had heard, Aladdin joined some terrorist organization and Jasmine became a sex-trafficker. The magic carpet, Abu, and the genie were all metaphors for the problems in their relationship.

Toxic waste was dumped into the ocean and the little Mermaid grew three more tails. The prince divorced her and married Ursula, who went on Jenny Craig and lost 50 lbs.

Everyone else is in rehab or dead. Or working for the DMV.

Epidemic of Happiness

In by Lara on October 27, 2009 at 1:24 pm

I’m happy. Yer happy. They’re happy. Gosh darn. Everybody’s so freakin’ happy. It’s a goddamn plague of happiness. Everyone’s smilin’, the children ‘specially. ‘N don’t go thinkin’ yer safe from those big bear hugs. That shit’ll infect yer soul wif joy n’ laughter. Gosh darn that laughter. That ther is serious. Rull serious. It’s jus’ so gosh darn contagious. If one person gits it, the next one’ll start, then the next, then the next. Yer startin’ to see how this all began, haven’t ya? It started with the gosh darn laughter. Prolly from some rull funny joke. Ha ha ha.

A Dialogue

In by Wyatt on October 27, 2009 at 11:25 am

I thought of you today. Pensive.
In what context? Wry smile.
I was at the post office.
Pause.
I stood in that absurd line and thought about how much you used to enjoy such inefficiency.
Hey!
Hold on—it was because the entire time you waited, you wanted. And the feeling of wanting was more powerful than the gift at the end.
Roj, did you forget our anniversary? Knowing stare.
No…but you’ll have to wait for your present, and I hope you have the presence of mind to realize you used to love that.
Is it a necklace?
Maybe.
Well okay.

Exactly 100!

In by Wyatt on October 27, 2009 at 11:24 am

Liquid indecisiveness flowed through my tangled brain. Do I take this job in Syracuse? It’s forever away from here, everything I know and love—and that’s the good part. It’s a bank teller position that I couldn’t care less about—that’s the bad part. But on the side, I’ll be able to be my own man, because with such mindless work, you leave your job at the door. Maybe there’ll be a cute girl there that I can wrap into my existence. Maybe I’ll meet an old man who be-sons me. Maybe I’ll stare into the oaky night sky and be happy.