Stories tagged absurd

Da Minotaur He Very Sore

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dey could go to da suboibs, ya know da value of a voigin back in dose days?

The famous author stepped up to the podium at a book reading and began to read the first page of his novel, which went like this

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The famous author stepped up to the podium at a book reading and began to read the first page of his novel, which went like this:

Broken Bulbs - Chapter One

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And here I am again. I chew my nails. I tap my foot. I chew my nails. I sweat. I bleed. My nose bleeds. It drips. I drip. I'm dripping through my chair.

My Son Thinks He's French

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My son thinks he's French.His accent was cute at first, but it's starting to get on my nerves. If he asks for another glass of Beaujolais I'm gonna go to jail for child abuse.Yesterday, I walked upstairs to make him turn his new Jacques Brel album down and I swear it…

Life of the Mind

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Days went by as I stood in the woods waiting for a tree to fall, and when none did, I determined the universe is cold and indifferent and that man’s only hope is to buy wood chippers.

Scrawls From My Blue Period

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The following was written under disagreeable circumstances, in that I was present for them.

Sex Dungeon for Sale!

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Calm down, I wouldn’t classify this as a sex dungeon.

a day uptown/a night on the bowery

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in her monestary mission, with her rosary and candles, time holds me here my feet got the travelin' blues but my hands tie old women's bones to my hair

White Pierre, Part One

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“And there she was, with this old man, seated on a picnic blanket. They were tossing a giant beetle back and forth, and the thing was squirming and hissing. A giant beetle, I tell you. The size of a small dog. They couldn’t see me, or hear me whe

Mystical Food Poisoning

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oh god/ oh captain crunch/ how did you divvy up my flimsy soul?/ what have I done to deserve/ this silly putty brand of torture?

Poetipedia

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. . was the earliest born of the not-so-great Pedantic Poets . . . . beleaguered by family financial crises that continued to the beginning of his life, he suffered periods of deep elation . .

A Bupkis in Gary's Bonnet

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uncush­ioned by the under­wear and inflat­able party dolls packed in the suit­cases that now cir­cled below, wait­ing for the Sad Men on Vaca­tion Society of Kamloops

The Outlaw's Last Stand

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The Outlaw was tired. Tired and sore. During his short life on God’s great planet, mostly in the last ten years, he had raped thousands of women. Possibly even tens of thousands. He had killed at least as many men, most likely more. Each one of them tur

A Memoir

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…she smelled of sunflowers.

Rent a DNA

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“Yo, Paciorek. Lend me your DNA, cuz I left mine on the farm, and I have a test tomorrow,” Feller ordered in a commanding voice, because he had gumption.