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Young Love

By on Sep 13, 2011 in Cuttings, Humor | Comments Off

Arlan and Diana met at Freshman Orientation.  She fantasized running her fingers through his thick, curly hair.  He ogled her tight, round ass. By the end of their first week of classes, they shared breakfast at the Union every morning and dinner in the evening.  A few weeks later, he mentioned that his roommate had dropped out, and no one had been assigned to his dorm room.  She moved in, and they remained inseparable.  Without ever really dating, they discussed marriage after graduation. Although their relationship seemed ideal, one thought tugged at the back of...

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Thanksgiving

By on Sep 13, 2011 in Humor | Comments Off

On the eve of Thanksgiving a woman phoned her sister-in-law to ask what she might contribute to their annual meal together. “You’re coming then, Amy?” asked the in-law. “I always come, Molly. We talked about it last week.” “Okay,” Molly said. “You don’t remember?” A pause ensued, then: “You come right along, Amy.  Absolutely.” “How about if I bring a pie?” Amy asked. “Bring it, Dear,” Molly said.  “Pies divide more democratically than any other dessert.” Pleased, Amy added...

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Reading Between the Lines

By on Sep 13, 2011 in Humor | Comments Off

His arrival was preceded by his reputation. Ziggy was a legendary hell-raiser. Not your old style boozer: the open a bottle of Scotch and throw away the top because it won’t be needed again. Ziggy was into everything. “Every day: four grams of coke, two bottles of tequila and a couple of six packs to wash it down,” he boasted on The Daily Show. “Why do you do it? Jon Stewart asked. “Is it some sort of crutch?” “Hell no. It gives me wings. Unnerstand what I’m saying, man?” “Weren’t you in the Betty Ford last year?” “Not for drugs, notfordrugs,” Ziggy sniffed. “I...

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Bro, I’m Gonna Get My Serenity on So Hard!

By on Sep 13, 2011 in Humor | Comments Off

(a prose apostrophe) It’s Friday night, dude. You know what that means. Meditation! Nothing better after a long week at work than centering your spirit through some wicked peaceful meditation techniques and then banging a chick’s aura. Don’t worry, man. I got it covered. I invited the ladies over to party tonight. I’ll play some sweet tuneage and set the thermostat to one-oh-five. It’s gonna get hot and steamy. Bikram Yoga, bitches! We’re going to do some deep stretching. You’re totally right. We have to pregame with some blazing. Let’s light...

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Never Again

By on Sep 13, 2011 in Humor | Comments Off

The blue light rotated hypnotically and alternate shades of dark and light skittered across Jim’s face.  I squirmed deeper into the leather passenger seat of his yellow Camaro, then briskly rubbed my thin face with both hands.  I glanced into the passenger side-view mirror, but all I saw reflected there was the velvety night and superimposed white lettering that read, “Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.” Fingers nervously drumming on my door’s instrument panel, I accidentally depressed a square, raised button. Somewhere deep inside the door, a mechanism groaned...

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The Strange Peasant, Invisible Authors, and Spiritual Music

By on Sep 13, 2011 in Essays | Comments Off

Eusapia Palladino during a seance A chapter from The Mystics The history of the occult contains a considerable gallery of materializations by mediums, and among the most discussed in all records of spiritualism was Eusapia Palladino, who was born January 21, 1854. The event occurred in the Italian town of Bari on the Adriatic, and her actual name was Minerverno Murgeo. As an infant, her mother died, and little more than ten years later her father was slain by bandits. Soon afterwards she was across the peninsula, on the opposite coast, in Naples. It is said that she displayed one of her...

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