As she gazed into his unresponsive, lifeless eyes that didn’t quite meet hers, her heart was aflutter.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“And I love you,” he said, ”But, my darling, I am just a parasitic worm that has infested and taken complete control of this man’s brain “
“And I’m an adult woman who thinks that frogs are just baby turtles. I know we have our differences, but we can make this work, I know we can.”
She embraced the commandeered body of her love, and five inches of his skinny green body slithered out of the right eye socket and planted a kiss with his minuscule protractible beak on her eyeball, depositing a pile of eggs into the cornea. (more…)
A little known moment in American history occurred about 60 years ago, when President Dwight D. Eisenhower, at the behest of his 7 year-old granddaughter, declared that August 17, 1952 was Opposite Day, for one day only. Most Americans failed to notice, but The White House released the following statement, which White House Press Secretary James Hagerty also read to reporters.
August 17, 1952
Members of the media and my fellow Americans:
I hereby declare today Opposite Day. It is the “worst” holiday ever and Americans are sure to “hate” it. As we partake in this holiday, let us not forget how “unimportant” it is to reflect on what it means to be Americans, the “least” free people on God’s “Un-Green” Earth. (more…)
1. “Victory belongs to the most persevering.”
2. “No, it’s fine. I guess I’ll just do this by myself, the way I always do it.”
3. “We either do this my way or not at all. I don’t want to see any bullshit maneuvers out there like you’re some sort of fancy pants.”
4. “I’ve just about had it up to here with this snow.”
5. “I love a brave soldier who has undergone the baptism of fire.”
6. “I swear to Christ this global warming crap is just a bunch of nonsense.” (more…)
Being a single gal in the city is tough, especially in the middle of a zombie apocalypse
Colette stretched naked by One Night Stand’s bedside—futonside, actually—while he snored obliviously, dangerously.
Time to do “The Walk Of Shame”—a sexist, antiquated term even before the Morning After of all morning afters—the catastrophic incident that had turned all of New York City into a zombie wasteland, a buffet of body parts.
Colette found that she actually enjoyed putting back on her clothes again after taking them off: She hadn’t only been wearing that outfit the previous night, but for the past three months, ever since The Gentrification. She pretended she was shopping, trying it on in a fitting room and wearing it out for the first time, though it wreaked of stale Chloe perfume from Sephora and the fresher flesh of her three dead roommates, whose lives she’d tried in vain to save when zombies crashed their Bushwick apartment. (more…)