All entries by this author

“Professor Pumpernickel’s Directory for Decoding Your Emotionally Repressed Forefathers,” by Colin Ware

Aug 7th, 2024 | By

I, Professor Pumpernickel, Chief Socialsciencology Researcher at the American University of America, Guam, have spent the past year alongside my faithful unpaid grad assistants scouring these United States for a codex of sorts—a Rosetta Stone that might decode for us the most cryptic of scripts, the most undercutting of utterances: those curiously curt words barked at us by our fathers.

Unfortunately, the last known copy of that 1902 classic, The Man’s Guide to Manning, appears to have burned up in a Springfield, MO, garage in the late 90s after a tragic turkey deep fryer accident.



“The Entire German Language Is Secretly One Huge Word,” by Rivka Crowbourne

Jul 31st, 2024 | By

Have you ever found yourself wondering: “Man, what is up with German?” Sure, we all have! Well, I’m here to answer that question once and for all.



“Through his Stomach,” by Alexei Kalinchuk

Jul 24th, 2024 | By

They said oatmeal.  Eat locally-sourced oatmeal to lengthen and enrich my life.  Then it was fish or blueberries, then that South American grain with the maggoty texture.  Let’s not forget dark chocolate and red wine, or that one green.  You know.  With ropy-stems?  You have to prepare it with a bomb tech’s level of focus just to make it edible. 



“My Mother’s Special Ding,” by Madi Himelfarb

Jul 17th, 2024 | By

You’ve heard the 13-year-old’s YouTube video play noisily on the L-train. You’ve watched the 25-year-old on the platform bop his head to his favorite Travis Scott song, one that he’s decided to play on repeat via a speaker tucked into his backpack. And I know you’ve witnessed the 76-year-old grandfather seated in the Quiet Car of the Amtrak pick up his daughter’s call unknowingly on speakerphone. Each time, I imagine your ears perked up. With furious taps, you texted your friend, reiterating how you just don’t get it, you just don’t. You figured you’d shoot them a few glares, certain that the fiery red lasers coming from your eyes would signal them to move to headphones, move cars, anything. I get it.



“Over There Past the Far Queue,” by Lorena Otes

Jul 10th, 2024 | By

‘Good aardvark, with a long nose and a hairy snout.’

I could hear the words coming out of my friend’s mouth, but assumed my ears were deceiving me. Surely I misheard him.

Most of Jacob’s victims were pretty baffled, but he always got away with it. Their usual response was a very polite delivery of something like, ‘Very well, thank you.’ Or ‘Oh yes, good afternoon to you too.’ As intended, they had interpreted his ambiguous cacophony as, ‘Good afternoon, babble, friendly babble …’ And would end up blaming themselves for not hearing correctly.