When we last left our intrepid scientist, Winslow was about to load some delicious vegetables into his biological transmogrification device and create a beautiful woman. As you can clearly see, something has gone terribly, terribly wrong. Or terribly right, depending on your circumstances. As the title says, this one’s for you, ladies. :P
From Laura: A Novel: For Olivia, the love of my life, and my best friend
From Outlandish Badland Justice: A Collection of Short Stories and Vignettes: For Olivia, who has stood beside me through more trials and tribulations than any one person should have to experience
Greetings! I hope you’ve all been enjoying the latest issue of Defenestration. Now it’s time for another thrilling episode of Ben & Winslow! When we left Winslow, he had died after seeing Apsara in a little black dress. But he’s a cartoon character, so he’s back from the dead and ready to move on with his life. Or rather, he’s ready to move on with his love life, which is mercifully nonexistant.
Ten years, you guys. This October, Defenestration will be ten years old!
Have any of you ever read slush? Have you ever read slush for ten years straight? After so long a time, Eileen’s lucky to still have her sanity, and I’m lucky to still have my sanity and my rakish good looks. But the slush is wearing us down, and we’re quickly becoming editors on the edge. We don’t sleep well. We don’t eat well. Our nerves have been rubbed raw. I have literally—literally—seen Eileen turn into a Tyrannosaurus over seemingly insignificant things. The other day she almost leveled an IHOP after finding an uneven distribution of blueberries in her blueberry pancakes. This sort of destruction cannot continue no matter how awesome and no matter how many views the resulting videos on YouTube attain.
Vicugna pacos
Everywhere I go, my alpacas come with me. How many alpacas can fit into a car? I can tell you from experience that the answer is five, unless an alpaca is driving. Unlike children, taking alpacas to the supermarket is enchanting. They want to help me reach the highest box of breadcrumbs and offer the ripest bunch of bananas pinched between their toes. With gentle nodding, they encourage me to select the high-fiber cereal for my health. When my crew of beatific quadrupeds parades the sidewalk behind me, people turn their heads and smile. Cheeky children reevaluate their Christmas lists and tug daddy’s arm. My enemies from high school cannot disguise their envy.