Interdimensional Losers
On Sunday he comes to your door with a dead bat and marigolds in an old violin case. You groan inwardly (hasn’t he found a place
A Bit of Neural Interference in the Collective Unconsciousness
On a windy autumn night of my childhood, I dreamed that a tall young man opened a door in a tree for me. A dim blue
Rockstar Betty vs. Opposable Thumbs
Rockstar Betty was a weasel–a hardcore weasel– and wouldn’t take any shit from any punk-ass bitches who got between