Humour
basket weaving 101: The Grande Finale
| 12:00 am | 0 CommentBy Mark Little & David Wilson-mcleishPatience opened the door to her townhouse. Then she closed the door; not too loudly, though. Just right (like the cereal, she thought to herself). She was just so clever these days. Upon removing her rabbit's fur scarf and fleece jacket, she entered the living room, ready for some good ol' TV. 7th Heaven was on, after all. "AAAAAAHH!!! more...
wasting my youth:The greatest headlinesruthlessly conquer the eyebut yet are humble
| 12:00 am | 0 CommentBy Glen Callender UfaAs I walk the hallspeople look the other waybabies spit at me. My recent columnsnot received well by publicschool festers with rage. I graduate nowwhat shall my legacy be?must leave on high note. I know what to dowrite last column in haikuthat will cheer them up. * * * I told God I wishedto write haiku for my breadprofessional-like. And alas, He more...
basket weaving 101: Wayne gets his big break
| 12:00 am | 0 CommentBy Mark Little & David Wilson Mcleish...Part of a continuing series. Wayne picked himself off the floor and bounded into Lance's room. Lance was sitting in eager anticipation. "So, Waynard, what didst you beget?" Lance asked haughtily, raising his chin and peering down his nose at the ball of bounty that was his roommate. "Brru brru!" Whenever Wayne got excited, his more...
wasting my youth: I fucked a JW
| 12:00 am | 0 CommentBy Glen Callender Ufa'S' was raised a Jehovah's Witness. He was also the first man I fucked. I met him over a telephone meeting service. I was bi-curious, and looking for a chance to kill a few cats. He was gay, and looking for a boyfriend. I don't know about our bodies, but nature certainly hadn't designed our personalities to fit together. He was a soap opera-watching more...
basket weaving 101: The evil forces are adjoined
| 12:00 am | 0 CommentBy Mark Little & David Wilson-mcleishPart of a continuing series Mandy the manager rubbed her hands with glee. "So he likes to make techno, eh? This is prrrfect." "Why, sweety?" asked the loveable forearmless inspector. Mandy hissed in his general direction. "You bumbling fool! If I told you my secret plan now, it would remove the suspense element from this story, and more...
basket weaving 101: Juub juubs and techno
| 12:00 am | 0 CommentBy Mark Little & David Wilson-mcleishPart of a continuing series.Wayne and Lance entered Buddy's hospital room. Buddy had been there for over a week, nursing the wounds inflicted by a rogue Pong machine. Wayne and Lance immediately took notice of the elaborate decorations Buddy's girlfriend Lolita had placed around the room. Streamers, pinatas, model planes, trains and more...
Grammar popularity rises
| 12:00 am | 0 CommentBy Chris GreenWith the popularity of email and word processing, English writing has become increasingly informal over the last several year's. People are now relying on spellchecker's and thesaurus's to correct their grammar and spelling. Even those who write for a living, such as reporter's, often make error's in their article's. One of the most commonly found error's more...
basket weaving 101: The end of Buddy?
| 12:00 am | 0 CommentBy Mark Little & David Wilson-mcleish"I've got to save that ridiculous bastard!" Lance cried aloud, as the Pong machine fell slowly onto an unsuspecting Buddy. He knew he had to alert his friend to his imminent doom, but he also realised that merely calling Buddy's name would prove useless, as he was clearly in the "Pong Zone". "What would the inspector do?" He asked more...
wasting my youth: I fucked a Catholic
| 12:00 am | 0 CommentBy Glen Callender UfaWhen it comes to sex, Catholics are a seething mass of contradiction. They venerate a pregnant virgin whose son hung out with prostitutes. Their spiritual leader is a celibate man in a dress who's hell-bent on overpopulating the planet. And they are raised to feel terrible guilt for even thinking about sex, let alone doing it. It is therefore no more...
basket weaving 101: Cinemeticulous
| 12:00 am | 0 CommentBy Mark Little & David Wilson-mcleishPart of a continuing series. Lance sat in the living room, endlessly clicking the remote control at the television, hoping that something worthwhile would appear. He fingered an empty holy water vial, reminiscing on past battles and forgotten glories. "Oh Peter," he sighed, sinking deeper into the couch as his voice sunk to a barely more...
