Archive for August, 2007
Secret society professional… (Round 2 : Page 8)
Shrub nodded, emerging from his daze. His father had made a humiliating gaffe once, in referring to the anniversary of that infamous attack, which had brought Murica into Double-U Double-U Eye-Eye; it would be good to supplant the event in the public memory. “But how do we get Juhpan to bomb us again? They sells us so many flying carpets these days.”
No comments“You need a war…” (Round 2 : Page 7)
“You need a war,” Mr. Pink stated, sinking comfortably into the red- cushioned plushness of the Throne.
No commentsMurican Pie… (Round 2 : Page 6)
“I call this ‘Murican Pie’.” He drains another voice-cracking tendril of phlegm from his gullet.
No comments“It ain’t my kid…” (Round 2 : Page 5)
The program, brainchild of Warden Cleevenhoff, is the only one of its kind, as my course is the sole offering of Sunny Oak’s continuing education curriculum, and is not attached to any attempt at a degree.
No commentsSunny Oaks Correctional Institution… (Round 2 : Page 4)
“Hi, Class!” I say, striving to sound cheerful yet cool.
“Hi, Victor!” the class chants back at me.
No commentsRestore meaning to the Bill of Rights… (Round 2 : Page 3)
The prevalence of crack in Washington, D.C. shows that not only is the Pentagon actively importing cocaine, but that they are also too lazy to ship it much further than Capitol Hill.
No commentsI smell a conspiracy… (Round 2 : Page 2)
Unbeknownst to me (though it was a predictable enough fuck-up), as I prated on about Socrates and his death sentence for corrupting the youth, among my unwilling audience sat the vengeance-oriented father of the school’s biggest and most incorrigible dealer, a sloppy, juvenile operator unconcerned with consequences because he knew he’d never truly face them.
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The boundary between Babylon and bohemian heaven ( Round 1 : Page 9 )
Well, it’s not a disaster. Obviously the Order, enhanced by my large “offering,” moved to more spacious and luxurious quarters. Maybe Melvin knows where they moved. I knock.
No commentsPleasure / Pain (Round 1 : Page 8)
The chapel/dance floor is mostly deserted, as the action/services here are a strictly nighttime affair, but the Holy DJ is installed behind the Eternal Turntables, spinning the electronic hymns of the faith, and five or six psychedelic dervishes are still furiously contorting their way to dance enlightenment, with and without glowsticks, before him. Holoprojectors cast animated abstractions on every crevice of every wall, and multicolored lasers pierce the thick cloud of haze emitting from what I presume is the Sacred Smoke Machine.
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