One is the Loneliest Number |
Men, let's face the facts. Regular masturbation gets boring. After awhile you just get too good at it. It becomes rote muscle memory before you know it. By the time you're 13, ...
Posted by on Fri, 09 Feb 2007 11:07:00 GMT |
It's Never Too Late |
I sat by the side of his hospital bed and held his hand in mine. Even now I was amazed at how big they were, how rough and calloused from years of hard work and providing for his family. My own hands ...
Posted by on Wed, 23 Aug 2006 08:00:00 GMT |
Supremacy, Thy Name is Bowen |
I sometimes find myself wondering if perhaps I'm not the result of some grand experiment perpetrated by a shadowy government in a smokey room, or perhaps a group of maligned evil geniuses in a floatin...
Posted by on Tue, 08 Aug 2006 13:38:00 GMT |
Doing the Right Thing For the Wrong Reason |
Wednesday I was driving home from Wal-Mart and a haircut when I saw something large and tannish lying on the side of the road. I slowed down to see what it was and realized it was only a burlap sack. ...
Posted by on Fri, 19 May 2006 11:06:00 GMT |
My Penis...Monologues |
Recently I went back to Penn State, as I have every year since I graduated in 2003, to see my old theatre troupe The Outlaws do a production of a show I wrote my sophomore year, The Penis Monologues.&...
Posted by on Thu, 23 Feb 2006 07:16:00 GMT |
On Becoming a Responsible Adult |
It's a difficult thing to realize that you're starting to outgrow people. That once the very character traits or personality things that first drew you to a person become those things that really both...
Posted by on Tue, 31 Jan 2006 06:49:00 GMT |
The Doorway of Ilhaqua |
Recently I've been on another H.P. Lovecraft kick and decided "Hey, what the hell, -I'll- write a Lovecraft story. Or at least one that's Lovecraftian." There's Lovecraftinistic stuff goin...
Posted by on Fri, 06 Jan 2006 13:10:00 GMT |
Bookends |
The old man looked down at his wrinkled hands, the dull liver spots and ropy blue veins like a roadmap of his life. He sat on the edge of the bed he and Sherryl had shared for thirty-nine years and si...
Posted by on Sat, 17 Sep 2005 17:51:00 GMT |
Breaking Point |
For the third time that day, I could literally feel my hands around her throat. I could feel the tiny fluttering of her pulse as it sped up and then slowed down and then stopped all together. I could ...
Posted by on Sat, 17 Sep 2005 08:47:00 GMT |
My Summer Job, Concluded. |
We were parked in an alley about half a mile from school. Brian sat on the seat next to me with about four grand from the local bank stuffed into one of those canvas bags you get from PBS along with a...
Posted by on Sat, 20 Aug 2005 16:32:00 GMT |
