Epilogue to an Unwritten Story


It’s 4:12 in the morning on February 6th, and I’m lying in bed confused. Not in a bad or frightening way, but more a bemused, problem-solving fashion.

I have no idea where I am.

This has happened to me before after bouts of intense travel combined with hyper-exhaustion, so I’m used to the feeling. I just need to take a moment and gather my bearings is all.

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Aliens in my Elbows

“I won’t see Mission Impossible 4, because if I do my money supports Scientology.” ~Random Internet Fella

“Yeah, but you saw New Years Eve, which means your money supported Christians, Jews, and bad filmmaking. Of the three, bad filmmaking is the worst, because I don’t really see much of a difference between Scientology, Christianity, or Judaism.” ~My Response

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‘Tis the Season to be Selfish

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You’d think giving money to charity would be easy—especially in the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas; the holiday season—but you would be mistaken. In a day and age where mysterious benefactors pay off layaway balances at department stores and food banks receive volunteers and donations, there are still those who just don’t see anything beyond their own selfish interests…

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Touched by Anything but an Angel


This story begins innocently enough: My wife bought a cheap massage using Groupon. When she called to make a reservation, she was unsettled by the outgoing message on the masseuse’s voicemail. She didn’t explain exactly what “Creeped her out,” but told me I could have the massage for my birthday.

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On December 8th, 1980, I lived in Appleton, Wisconsin. I was eleven years old. I was most likely asleep when the everything happened, but I remember that on his broadcast the next day Walter Cronkite dedicated much, if not all, of the time-slot to the event.

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An Annual Rant

I am a comedian, and I talk about things that make me impassioned. Every so often during my act, a fetish of mine will connect with someone in the audience and that drunken patron will bellow out, “You should run for president!” Sometimes the audience will applaud, sometimes they laugh. No matter the reaction, I always smile.

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The Delicate Hands of Hawkeye Pierce

“I went to Toys R Us and walked down the baby doll aisle, and they’re getting fairly realistic. They have ‘baby throws up, baby take my temperature, change baby’s diaper, Jewish baby, it comes with a pair of scissors so you can snip the penis yourself… The reasoning is: the more lifelike the doll, the better prepared a girl is for motherhood. Fair enough, but considering the state society is in today, why don’t they make dolls really realistic? How about ‘Shake the Baby,’ it cries until you make its eyes roll back into its head. ‘Premature Crack Baby,’ born with the heart on the outside and incubator so you can watch it slowly… yeah. ‘Siamese Twin Baby,’ comes with a surgical kit, but only one battery, so you decide which half lives and which half…  ‘Dumpster Ready Baby;’ comes with its own Hefty Bag so you can get back to prom quickly…”

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