50 Words a Day: Stuffed Seductress

When the sun hits my eyelids, I hear the orchestra of the day playing. My eyes pop open like blooming flowers in fast-forward as they cast off the crusty remains of the night before. Can I force myself up from the well-stuffed seductress that lies beneath me? Yes or no? 

50 Wordsa Day: Reflections of Icarus

Icarus was a chump. Why’s this dumb motherfucker flying near the sun? I would be using those wings to pick up some girls. Or go to the drive-through like, “I don’t got a car, but I got these wings, bitch. Gimme a milkshake.” What’s so great about the sun, anyway?

50 Words a Day: Makinglove.org/puns

I tried to make love digitally-don’t worry mom, I had virus protection. We got downloaded and dirty, until updates were complete. We scanned each other for what felt like minutes. She reached out and grabbed my hard drive, and then her system crashed. I just couldn’t find the right plug-in.

50 Words a Day: The Butterfly Collector

The reason I love you is because of your colors, or the way you flutter through the air to heights unobtainable. The way I want to keep you is pinned, anesthetized, under glass, so I can stare at you like a child through a sweet shop window.

It's Not Something You Can Just Dump Something On..

Alaskan Senator Ted Stevens died today.

It was suprising to me, because I just assumed he died of being super old,

Or he was run down by a herd of caribou,

Or he got in Sarah Palin's way.

But it was, in fact, a plane crash.

We all know the late senator by now for his infamous comparison of the internet to, not a truck that we could just dump something on, but a series of tubes.

It's been a weird summer for deaths.

Gary Coleman, Dennis Hopper, George Steinbrener, Harvey Pekar, the guy who played the coach in "Major League." All legends in their own way.

I'm not trying to undermine anyone's death, it just makes you think about that last curtain call we'll all have at some point.

I've written myself into a philosophical corner that I can't work my way out of.

I'm overtired and somewhat confused.

Life is not something you can just dump something on.

It's not a truck.

It's a series of tubes.

Some connect, some never cross, some need a little adjusting, some just need a little duct tape to stay in place.

Some will burst before they should, others will go on rusting.


In memory of those we've lost.

Brian Explains Movies Based Off Their Trailers: Takers

"Takers"

Starring: Matt "give me a cough drop" Dillon, Stringer Bell, Uhura, Anakin Skywalker, that dude from Fast and the Furious who wasn't Vin Diesel, Chris Brown (really?), and T.I. (no, seriously, really?).

Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbjzfVMO-x0

Explanation: Okay, so Stringer Bell and everybody else are friends (except Matt Dillon, that guy's a cop) and they're apparently professional robbers...they rob. No, I'm sorry, they're grabbers...they grab. That's not it either. It'll come to me. So, they're really good at whatever it is; we know this because the cops say that they are. AND MATT DILLON JUST CANNOT STOP THEM. But then T.I. shows up after spending his time in jail for, oh, let's say, owning a few too many automatic weapons while on parole. So, all the stealers...they steal, are all like "oh man, can we trust him?" "Do you think he rated us out?" "Why is Anakin Skywalker wearing that hat?" But T.I.'s all like "I have THE BEST. ROBBERY. IDEA. EVER."

His plan involves Anakin Skywalker hitting people with a baseball bat and Matt Dillon talking to his friend Jay Hernandez and getting into a fender bender with an armored truck and Anakin Skywalker jumping through the air with a gun after paying royalties to John Woo, and blowing up a series of feathered pillows, and T.I. reminding us via a song that "we ride AND we roll" and Chris Brown doing a lot of parkour.

'Cause they're Takers...they take. Nope, still doesn't sound right.

7 Layers of Love

James was a man of, I suppose you could say, moderate success. He was the owner and landlord of the Golden Axel Trailer Park; married, with two children and he loved hamburgers. Let me make sure I’m making this clear: HE LOVED HAMBURGERS. James’ father, who worked at the local meatpacking plant, would sneak home hamburgers for dinner every evening and James would gobble them up, which is particularly impressive considering his pixie-like frame. As he got older, James tried hamburgers cooked in every way they could be served; deep fried, sauteed, buffaloed, boiled, breaded, candied, and of course, baked into a pie. James believed that he had tasted every type of hamburger imaginable. Then, in 1999, James was asked to be a judge in his hometown’s Hamburger Harvest Festival. What exactly hamburgers had to do with harvesting no one knew but the alliteration was just so darn cute no one seemed to care. It there that he found the burger his taste buds had longed for. It was simply called “Back to Basics;” not expecting much, James took a quick, uncaring bite. Suddenly, a tidal wave of flavor swept over him. Each individual flavor shook off the cobwebs of a different memory- the warmth of the ketchup felt like a hug from his mother, the crisp lettuce tasted like the first time he tried salad and was then sent to his room by his father. Every bite brought a hazy moment from the past into sharp focus- the cheese tasted like the macaroni and cheese he once shared with his first love Suzie Matthews, I would comment on the mayonnaise but my personal dislike for that particular condiment is so strong I can’t bring myself to create a heartwarming memory for it. James looked over at the burger’s creator; she was a rotund woman whose heart was as wide as her girth. Her name was Patty. James slowly chewed the burger in order to savor the last few bites.

“This is incredible,” James said.

“Oh thank you,” Patty blushed “it’s an old family recipe.”

“Well the taste is obviously amazing, and with its simple presentation you wouldn’t expect it to be so life altering…hey, are you doing anything tonight?”

That night, Patty and James made love. I will, however, not be describing their beautiful night of passion to you as I have retired from the field of erotic fiction. If you are interested in those works, here are a few of my novels published by Sexy Classics: “The Island of Dr. Moan-‘Oh,’” The Scarlet Letter 2: Hester Does Plymouth, and Naked Lunch.

One marriage, two kids, and ten years after that night, James opened the news paper and fainted at the sight of the first article he read. James awoke to his daughter, Ketchup, drawing on his face with finger paint. He leaped to his feet and ran to his wife.

“Patty!” he cried “Patty look at this!”

James held up the newspaper article to his wife, it was about a promotional stunt that a major food chain (which for legal reasons, we will refer to as “King of Burgers”) was doing to advertise the release of a new computer operating system (which for legal reasons, we will refer to as “Windows 6+1).

“It’s a seven layered burger! But it’s only available for a limited time, and in Japan!” James looked with joy back at his wife’s blank stare.

“That’s wonderful honey but…”

“No time to talk! It’s only available for one week and I’ve already wasted so much time!”

James had never concerned himself with saving money; the bare essentials were enough for him. The best he could come up with for a quick way to raise money for plane tickets was a lemonade stand and car wash in front of his trailer. His youngest daughter, Onion, made a sign that read:

LEMONADE- 10 DOLLARS
CAR WASH- 5 CENTS

Never one to stile his child’s creativity, James didn’t correct Onion’s error. Five days went by, and after 50 car washes James raised two dollars and fifty cents. While Onion made almost 3,000 dollars in lemonade sales (Onion was one hell of a salesperson). With the money raised, James and his family found themselves on the next flight to Japan.

“We should be there just in time to get the burger,” James said as he reclined his chair slightly so as to not crush the elderly man sitting behind him “wake me up when we get there?”

“Yes dear,” Patty began “but I need to tell you.”

“Not now dear, I really need to prepare,” James placed a pillow behind his head. Just as he was about to enjoy a particularly entertaining dream about a pool of ketchup, the captains voiced filled the airplane’s cabin.

“Folks, this is your captain speaking. We’ve just received word from air traffic control that a particularly nasty dragon has been awakened from his thousand year sleep just off the coast of Honshu and he’s heading our way so we’re going to make an emergency decent. Thank you for your cooperation and thank you for flying Mr. Roboto Airlines. Domo arigato…or whatever.”

“NO! I HAVE COME TOO FAR!” James cried as he leaped out of his seat “I HAVE WASHED TOO MANY CARS AND ONION HAS SOLD TOO MUCH LEMONADE TO GIVE UP NOW!”

With the speed of a man on fire moving towards a lake, James stormed down the aisle towards the emergency exit. As he rushed passed the seats he snagged a lasso from a nearby rodeo clown-who was now 88 percent sure he was on the wrong flight-and kicked open the emergency door. Every loose object that wasn’t held down started to fly out of the plane; after being pelted by soda cans and peanut wrappers James finally spotted the dragon. Its blue scales made it look like a river flowing through the sky. The coarse rope scrapped James’ palms as he braced himself for what could be his final moments in his brief but mildly enjoyable life. As the dragon brushed passed the plane, James threw the lasso out the door and managed to snag the dragon’s mouth. James held on for dear life as the dragon bucked, spun, and looped around the plane; any maneuver it could think of to shake its unwanted passenger. Pulling hard on the rope, James managed to turn the dragon and level out next to the plane.

“Patty! Grab the kids and let’s go!” James cried. Once Patty and the kids climbed onto the back of the dragon, James snapped the rope which he had fashioned into a pair of reins making the dragon speed off towards Japan and James’ destiny. James parked the dragon in the first parking garage he found that was located next to a King of Burgers. Bursting through the front door, James ran up to the front counter.

“I would like one 7-layered burger, please!” he exclaimed.

“First of all, you’re lucky I speak some English,” the teenage girl behind the counter replied “and second, we stopped selling those yesterday.”

If you listened closely, you could hear the faint sound of James’ dreams, like glass, breaking into thousands of pieces.

“I guess I’ll just have seven hamburgers then.” James said.

With his wife and two daughters, James sat in the restaurant, eating the massive hamburger he had carefully constructed from his seven individual patties.

“It’s pretty good, I guess,” James said in between bites of the massive burger “it would be better if it was the real thing.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you honey,” Patty said “they have those burgers at the King of Burgers back home. They’ve had them for years now.”

James couldn’t believe his ignorance, especially when it came to matters relating to hamburgers. He slowly stood up with what was left of his pride intact.

“Honey,” he said slowly “I need some time to think. You and the girls keep eating; I’ll be waiting with at dragon.”