Defenestration: December 2021

Welcome, one and all, the the December 2021 issue of Defenestration: the literary magazine that has been dedicated to humor for so long that we stopped keeping track. (That’s a lie. Eileen has been keeping track. One deep scar on the wall of her living room for every month Defenestration has existed. It looks as if a cat the size of a Volkswagen has been trying to claw its way out of her home.)

Defenestration: August 2021

Good morning, everyone! Happy Friday and best wishes to all of you on this fine 20th of August! And welcome! Welcome to the latest issue of Defenestration, which, if we’ve assembled this thing correctly (and we think we have), contains the sum total of everything you have ever thought was hilarious and condensed it into an easily consumable format. (And coming soon: Defenestration, the suppository!)

Defenestration: April 2021

Another year, another issue of Defenestration! And this begins Volume 18, which means Defenestration is legally an adult. We’re going to light some fireworks, eat some cake, and destroy a piñata. Let the merriment begin!


“Eating Healthy, A New Theory,” by Rod Walters

“They” say don’t eat inflammatory foods so as to avoid bad health and death. You do need to pick your theys as carefully as your friends, though. All kinds of online they food dictators are popping up in numbers greater than the actual population. Still, so many warn about inflammatory foods, that maybe we really should pay attention.

Fake Nonfiction

“I Said I Would Get a Vasectomy, But…” by Gwen Summers

I have two amazing little children with my beautiful wife. We always said we wanted to have a boy and a girl. And we got them! They are healthy, perfect. I said I would get a vasectomy, but you never know, we’re so young.


“The Deal,” by Daniel Winn

As an experiment, a very rich man gave me one hundred million dollars, with the stipulation that I’d let him kill me in ten years, about ten years ago. For some reason it kind of slipped my mind. That’s how I am: taxes catch me by surprise every year; I forget plans until the last second and rush out of the house; once I left my private jet in the Cayman’s because I went back commercial by mistake. The only thing that was on my mind when I got the text reminding me about my agreement was the excruciatingly drawn-out remodeling of the left side of my mansion (when facing the mansion). It was a fairly nice text, as texts about your eventual murder, from your eventual murderer, go.


“Till Tomorrow Night My Love,” by Khaloud Al-Muttalibi

Restless and ready as ever for my night’s walk
to his pleasurable lap. You would think by now,
his Antarctic heart would adapt
to the burning zeal of my wandering hands.


“Soccer Mom,” by Rachel Deutsch

For your Sunday enjoyment… a comic!

Ben & Winslow

Gingerbread Menace

We’re rapidly approaching the end of the year, so I figured it was time to do a little comic collaboration. With my daughter.