FICTION

Trial and Error

By: Maven Cade Leary

They say you don’t truly know someone unless you see how they react under pressure.

The question then becomes; how do we know ourselves if we are never forced to define ourselves and push the barriers of our limitations? Thankfully, challenges come in all shapes and sizes, and it is not required to live through a war, or train under a Shaolin Master, to get a glimpse of this teacher in all our lives. I have had many such opportunities, my life having been a mess of trials. But one of them gave me a glimpse at our humanity more than any other: The summer I broke my leg. Continue reading

Summer Time Blues

By: Katie Callen

It was the summer.

Hot, unforgiving, steam ridden misery; the kind that makes you want lay naked in the kiddy pool out in the yard and slamming back cold beers while popping meds to dull the sense of feeling.

No need for the hard stuff, I said to myself, this will only make things worse.

But this uneasy unrest… this wild feeling won’t leave my brain.

The amount of weed I ingested trying to fight the urge to do this most unneeded demon wasn’t working. What is to come of the day?

Where will I go? Who will go with me?

You need a copilot for this shit. Without one you will become lost. But lost lost is what I seem to be any way, so why worry? But in this mad world I will need someone.

The massive conundrum is that I have no idea where I am in this strange town, in the middle of all these winding red dirt roads, with only stop signs, and no fucking map to tell me where I am.

I must seek out locals to guide me down this sick and twisted fate which lies ahead for the day if I am going to survive to tell the tale that is soon to unveil itself to me. Continue reading

Pot

By: Ernie Hurt

 

Inhale….Hold it…..Exhale……

Pot,weed,cannabis,smoke,chronic,that keisha cole,bud,dank,good good,reefer,Indo,buddah, so many names for it. So many people for it, so many people against it. Im talking about marijuana,hemp,dat piff,mary jane,cheeba. I feel like most that will read this may be “down” with the current state of Cannabis in contemporary America. Continue reading

Memoirs of an Internet Whore

“Crotch Rot”

 

She was walking down the shit steam block, when it hit her.

Crotch rot.

Itchy, burning, awful, wet and rawness that spreads like an awful oily sebaceous cyst that will not go away with a bit of peanut butter.

Why, you ask?

Well, because much like breathing, us humans must walk; hence crotch-rot, an inevitable evil that infects the pubic area and thighs.

Throbbing and reddening,

There is no relief, it’s infectious and only the complete determination to stop walking and sit will provide healing and escape.

So, if you find yourself, burning and feeling raw, don’t think about the last person or animal you may have fucked.

Instead, are you walking?

Ah, yes…It is crotch rot.

She visits in the heat of day, in camel toe jeans, and sagging britches. She comes to steal your peace, your joy, and brings the inevitable stop, sit, and lazily walk with pride.

Stride your ass home to chair, remove your pants and examine the raw, red, stinging area.

Cream it, air it, and let it be.

It yells procrastination; it has broken your will, so submit to the rash.

Let its will overcome you and rest my love, rest. Heal for she will return and next time be armed with baby powder. Continue reading