First, the title: How George Bush And the Lovely Danielle Saved Planet Earth From Zork the Galactic Destroyer. A little unwieldy perhaps but still, a grabber. Already you're thinking, George Bush? Saving Earth? Did he die by his own fucking hand?…

Lighter-than-air flight was back. The skies of the coast were alight with colorful balloons, dirigibles, and zeppelins tethered to their docking towers along the beach, the huge aircraft bobbing in the breeze up and down the coast for miles,…

That Dagwood is not a real person but a story told in dots. That Blondie is a male fantasy and will one day find her Nora Helmer.

In San Francisco, there rides at night a phantom streetcar whose driver is none other than Walt Whitman . . .

I know she's a dog person, as she owns one. “No, my asshole ex-boyfriend wanted one and then he left me with it.” she admits, then adds, “I don't even like dogs. All dogs are needy.”

The wind has no voice and yet we listen, perhaps imagining the ramblings of a mad man

Shannon refused to jump from the castle drawbridge to the gigantic truck tire sunk halfway down in the playground quicksand. He just stood there-arms folded across his chest, bony knees sticking out from beneath ratty cutoffs-in silence, looking to Rollie

He checks the bedrooms first, then the hallway, followed by the living room and the bathrooms. When he can't find you he takes to calling out, daddy, I'm sure the neighbors hear.

He had coal black hair the day he died. He claimed to be part French, no doubt the offspring of a Swedish girl and a French soldier, although Ole did not mention this.

He picked up a pack of cigarettes and shook it. He flipped the lid to confirm there were none left.

He returned to America on the Fourth of July. Twisting in his cramped window seat miles above the Atlantic, he buckled up before the descent. “You can handle this,” he muttered. Hungover, still reeling from the dreamy head-turning experience of…

a bird who gives messages

Of all the things Shelly hated about her job, the music was the worst.

"Everything except food and sex."

The custard of eternity is scooped into the quantum cone of knowledge and drips out the bottom one lifetime at a time.