car-hit-pole ( Read more... )

Sure, there's lots of people out there with a crooked smile and a keen sense of balance, but there was something about the sheer awkward grace of Olivia that always kept me coming back. Sure, she was just a whore, I could never forget that, and her looks were not above average, but she had always made me believe that she preferred my company to ( Read more... )

Last night, after I returned to the estate after work, I was struck with a desire to go out to the local pub (although I call it that in same way that one might call a discarded peel a banana). It had been on the same corner when I first arrived in Augusta thirteen years previously, and even then it had the look of a cast aside skin, a state ( Read more... )

Funny? You don't know fucking funny. Funny is setting a car bomb off at the drive through right after they handed your hit the wrong fucking order. It's things like that that make this job worthwhile. I used to think there was some sort of tragedy about all this, people killing people, all that sappy shit, but there isn't. Got that Jesus? ( Read more... )

I had fancied Sarah for years. It was not that she was an overly exceptional girl, but then I was not overly picky in my selection of conquests during that time period, either. Whereas her friends (and even some members of her family, although I best not say which for fear she reads this) were more than willing to oblige my every whim in matters ( Read more... )

From a young age I had always been given to flights of fancy. These generally lasted about a month or so, much to my mother's chagrin, who was always forced to indulge my whims. Upon this my father insisted, despite - or perhaps due to - the fact that his work kept him away for long periods of time. At the age of twelve I became obsessed with ( Read more... )

My friends, I have made the discovery that shall be the capstone on my storied career - a shortened species of moth that's adult lifespan is a mere three hours (it had gone undetected until this modern age, living in but one forest south of the Nile Delta). It was known to the natives as a destructive caterpillar, and although they had folklore ( Read more... )

As recently as last month, I have still been obsessed with the memory of a rather plain looking girl from my youth by the name of Gertrude. We called her Gertie, of course, no matter how often she tried to affect the name Trudy. As children together we had often played such games as Skip the Rope and Skint Chase. At the budding age (I will only ( Read more... )