“Why are you always picking on me?”
Beside the T-Rump Jr. and the Huckabeecyclops, the Kushneratops squatted, his bottom lip tucked over his top lip. 569 more words
For most of the Brooks Brothers shoppers I didn’t register on the “people we treat with basic human dignity” radar.
Aside from the painful realization that most of these customers would just as soon run me over with their car than make eye contact, inconspicuousness had some benefits; for instance, stalking recognizable politicians or D-level celebrities. 331 more words
Middle Ground, Book Dummy two, February 2018 copyright Douglas Stockdale
while on our ski vacation last week and the drive back over the past two days (yep, road trip from Southern California to Colorado and back again), I had a great opportunity to think about my various photographic projects, especially the current photobook that I have in development: … 485 more words
It was almost noon. The Hopehicksbagotrix paused at the doorway to the Tyrumposaurus nest beside the Oval Dwelling. She knew the T-Rump would be alone. The Tymelania had moved her nest away, again, since more sordid, steamy details of the T-Rump’s romp with a Pornodactyl had surfaced. 851 more words
Never mind how mental you have to be to believe that of the billions of people on the earth God has singled you out to speak with, what about the poverty of the imagination fixated on a concept thousands of years old. 270 more words