Hillary Clinton sat an ornately carved wooden desk, resting her face in her palms. The trials had been going on for what seemed like a lifetime. Had it been 6 months? A year? The days were getting hard to count, probably because the only sleep she got was when she collapsed, too exhausted to hold her head up. He was persistent, but she wasn’t prepared to give up. He would not break her.
A yellow light on the wall clicked on. Hillary cleared her throat and pressed down the red button on the intercom in front of her.
“Commence to the next stage,” she said.
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 068] If You Bern It, Does It Not Bleed?” »
The lighting rig creaked as Ted Cruz kneeled atop the metal trusses. Thousands of people rustled beneath him, mumbling to each other about thugs and ISIS and welfare between mouthfuls of popcorn and soda. These were Ted’s kind of people. He used to fill town halls and lecture halls full of wide eyed, white skinned, blue collared Americans like these. They would come for miles to hear him preach the American truth. About how his family heard the sweet song of Lady Liberty and pierced through the iron curtain to fall into the warm embrace of her bosom. About how, with nothing but sticktoitiveness and and the grace of God Almighty, he overcame adversity to seize his dream, one which is shared with all young patriotic boys; becoming a Junior Senator from Texas.
But they weren’t here for Ted. Ted couldn’t fill a minivan these days because of him. That’s why he had to die. Continue reading “[Election ‘016 066] I Am Become Ted-th” »
The Moon pulled the nightcap over his head, getting cozy and sinking into his favorite nook in the night sky. He looked down over the four corners of the Earth, sprawling out below him. Veins of light pulsed through the land, streaming out from the cities that outlined the shape of the continents.
“Good night, humans. Sleep tight! I hope you have a fun and exciting day tomorrow!” the Moon said.
He looked over to his pal the Sun, his luminous twin who rotated in tandem over the other half of the Earth. He gave his buddy a wave.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Sun! Keep up the good work!” Moon said. Continue reading “[Clipart] Sleepy” »
“God, I’m just so sick of the Man, man!” Aiden shouted into the uncaring void of his $1100-a-month downtown studio. “Consumerism is, like, destroying this planet, man! All these Kardashians and Trumps and shit, man! Like, I don’t even watch TV.”
Aiden eyed the 30” CRT that sat atop the cinder block shelf at the front of the room.
“Yeah. I never watch TV. In fact… I don’t even need a TV at all!”
Aiden walked over to the television, wrapped his arms around it, and heaved the 30 pound hunk of plastic and glass off of the shelf. Continue reading “[Clipart] TV in Trash” »
This the first part of a silly story idea that was suggested to me about a superhero who is fused with a fighter jet. I wrote this a while ago (a LONG while ago) and didn’t really do much with it, but I’m thinking of revisiting it in order to force myself to write something long. So hey, here you go, I guess.
Continue reading “Overwing Part 1” »
April 6, 2015
We have completed the last of the extractions and the specimens should arrive by morning. This batch was from a country club in eastern Oklahoma. This is a bit of an outlier compared to the usual collection areas deeper within the heartland, but these subjects fit the bill. Any variation due to this is statistically improbable. As with the previous collections, the subjects were caucasian, middle class, Christian males. The samples were collected under the pretense of a blood drive to support police officers injured during attacks by liberal protestors. Updates will cease until the experiment officially commences.
April 23, 2015
We have finished sequencing the genomes of each of the samples. We have a total number of 370 samples from locations throughout the Midwest, with the largest portion coming from Ohio and Illinois, although there were a few outliers from Allen, Romano, and other benefactors. There are certain aspects from each that we wish to express within the subject. Pronounced nordic fold. Pasty complexion. Receding hairline. If we stick to the schedule then we should move on to lab trials within the week. Continue reading “[Election ‘016 063] [REDACTED]” »
I didn’t write anything new this weekend, but what I’m giving you here is a dive into the behind the scenes. The seedy underbelly of HCAD, populated by all of the stories too shocking, too vile, and (more often than not) too shitty to see the light of day… until now. This was a story that I started writing back during the dark ages of the 2016 election, back when the Republican field still numbered in the double digits. I don’t even remember exactly what I was ultimately going for, but it was something about Ron Paul/Rand Paul fans arguing in the style of movie or video game fans on a forum and, likewise, was formatted like a forum post. I think it was a decent idea, but I ultimately scrapped it for something else equally terrible (Barty Randerson, maybe? I don’t remember the timeline very well.) Well, either way, enjoy, I guess.
Continue reading “Scrapped Election Story” »
Sorry I haven’t posted anything yet this weekend even though I had a couple of things scheduled. It’s been kinda hectic over the past week on account of starting a new quarter, work, and the water heater in my house breaking and flooding my room. Not the most fun way to spend a week, although I did get to go to Emerald City Comic Con earlier today. I was going to try my best to write something tonight, but I have been feeling terrible ever since I got back from the convention center and I am probably dying or something. Hopefully I stop dying by the time morning and I can be rejuvenated and ready to write something stupid about John Kasich or whatever, but worst case I will find SOMETHING to post.
Goodnight and hopefully I don’t die,
“It puts the ballot in the box or else it gets the hose again,” Ted said.
Ted’s basement was cold, dark, and wet. The windows were blacked out and barred and the only light in the room came from a single flickering lightbulb the swayed in its center. Beneath the lightbulb was a neat circular hole about 10 feet across. Ted sat on the edge of the pit, his feet dangling playfully off the side. He grabbed a handful of campaign pamphlets and mailers from the stack that sat next to him and tossed them in.
“Please… please, just let me out,” a woman cried from the bottom of the pit. She grappled at the smoothed stone that made up the walls of the pit, but she couldn’t find her footing. Continue reading “[Election ‘016 061] Silence of the Teds” »