Dear Abby, I’m a teen-age girl whose life is a mess. Poison seems my only hope, unless you can give me some advice about this boy. You see, at first I tried to act coy but he’s persistent, so that didn’t work. Oh it’s about to drive me berserk the way he constantly
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A Twenty-Syllable Epigram on the Modern Haiku The marriage of today’s busy professional with tomorrow’s oblivion. A Veritable Waste of Space Veritible’s a word of minor weight, mere filler culled to modify the void. Its meaning tacks to hurry-up-and-wait –all empty suit, adjectively deployed. This now concludes my veritable screed that heaped nonentitude on absent
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You’re my Venus, pretty lady, Aphrodite of a sulfuric acid. Morning Star sometimes, your alluring eyes sparkle like misleading stars. Larger than Earth can encompass Your beauty holds no bounds. No, not large like a Double Cheeseburger. I’m talking spacy, darling. Hair blonde like the gaseous swirls that Remind me of a half eaten Milky
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A Priest, a Rabbi, and a Mullah are on an airplane. Suddenly, the pilot comes over the intercom to say that they have to make a crash landing and that it doesn’t look good. As the plane begins a steep dive, each of the three holy men gather their respective believers together on the plane
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Dad and I try to talk every morning and end up listening to talk radio Not Responsible For Typographical Errors I took a line out in the paper after Steve left town and got a dozen calls about my rates, when I could deliver, how I’d handle disposal, before I saw the reason: DOOM AVAILABLE.
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