Plugs

CLOTHING & GOODS EXCHANGE. WE CARRY EVERYTHING. Come have a look! Boys’ and girls’ clothing, baby things, toys. Dresses, shoes. Vintage pornographic gentlemen’s magazines. Housewares and furniture: cabinets, cupboards, credenzas, curios, chiffoniers, chesterfields, coffers. Wooden toys, sweatshirts, censers, copes. Amulets, periapts, hamsas, lightly loved apotropaics of all kinds. Tiny tabernacles; very small shrines; dolls representing abstract concepts and/or divine powers who will speak to you in your dreams; at-home plug-in philosopher’s gardens. Tupperware. Everything as-is! No warranties. Absolutely no returns.

QUEEN SHEBA TAVERN. Come in & relax. Cold beer, hot food. Zilzil tibs, doro wot, asa kitfo. Thursday nights karaoke: you can be a star! Channel voices from the heavens; from the deep; from the immanent divinity within. Delphic, other predictions welcome (sorry, no smoking.) Last week, 23 chapters of Kebra Nagast spontaneously given voice. Occasional keramat. $2 PBR! We have Beyoncé and Queen.

HAIR BRAIDING ALL KINDS. 100% HUMAN HAIR. Weaves, falls, cornrows, twists; Asian, European, virgin, raw; Remy, Yaki, feather, deep. Spanish, Indian, Senegalese. Coil. Curl. Wave. Bonded, netted, fused. Lace-front, warp, weft. Tracked. All forms of tree-braiding: maple, gingko, sycamore, plane; acacia, baobab, Zegba, mahogany. Yellow-wood, rubber tree, locust bean, néré. Mango, ironwood, kapok, rônier. We carry a full line of products. Everything you need for natural, beautiful home care of healthy, glossy strands; locks; rolls; roots; leaves.

BRAND NEW! VANILLA CREAM CAFÉ! Everything we sell is locally sourced. Local cheeses, local apples. Delicious local milk, eggs laid by local hens. Local baked goods, baked locally. We are committed to local farming, local buying, and local eating. We are your new favorite neighborhood spot. Come see how we reflect your culture and our commitment. Try our delicious latté, espresso and coffee drinks. Sample our wide variety of teas. Taste a scrumptious ginger cookie. Try our locally made chocolate fudge. We do not sell bananas.

4 mi clas praject I M riting a thing laik they uze to in teh urly dayz uv teh intert00bz. In teh urly dayz uv teh intertubez evrybody rote thingz w/wrds insted uv alweyz uzing videoz and ipodz laik we do 2dey!!!1! It wuz verE hard 2 comunic8 bcuz u alwayz had 2 spel thingz teh saim wey evry time!1! & there wur no emoticonz and so u nevr new wat sumbody wuz thinkN LOL.

In teh urly dayz uv teh Intertubez evry1 red brainE clasik litterachur laik steevun king & dr soos. :o Everybudy waz a real Einstine but they wer borde bcuz tehy alwayz had 2 wurk & lern thingz but insted uv 2 munths uv skool laik we hav tehy had mayB a yr or mor!!1!!

That iz wy I M glad robotz run evrything & we no longR hav 2 stop uzing teh intertubze 2 do sum werk. :))))

by N8 Jonez

As we expected, the hard part was getting the ice skates on the alligator.

On our first few attempts, no one lost any fingers, although Edmund and I each gained a few bandages. We were getting the hang of things by the end of the morning, and would have persevered in the afternoon with, I am sure, eventual success, had our lunchtime discovery not made further beast-wrangling moot. There, in the winter garden, behind a clutch of potted cycads brought back by one of professor Ogdred’s expeditions, was an alligator. Stuffed. A settee, in fact, with green velvet cushions and a carved ebony back. There was line of buttons down the middle of the cushions in place of the original ridges.

“Perfect,” said Edmund.

“Exactly what she wants,” I said.

We were careful to carry it out the east door, since the alligator – the live one – was already in a sulk after the morning’s exertions; trooping past the herpetarium window with the taxidermied remains of one of its cousins seemed unwise.

We made our way through the frozen gardens. The veiled statues of weeping ladies were jeweled with tears of ice. The giant stone hand was gloved in snow. The wind hissing through the bare branches of the trees might have been the snickering of ghosts.

We lashed the skates to the alligator’s feet. Edmund sucked his finger where he’d scraped it on one of the claws. We pushed the settee out from the shore of the frozen pond, skidded around getting into our seats, and then built up speed by polling gondolier style with sharpened sticks.

When we glided by the gazebo, the fur- and scarf-wrapped card players looked up. The countess was looking at us as she extracted the envelope from her folds of her sleeve and slid it across the table to her sister, with whom the count had forbidden her to have any private contact. She winked, and we knew that she’d keep us in hot cocoa and smuggled trinkets through the spring, as long as we kept up the distractions.

(After Gorey)

“Dude, long time no see!”

“Yeah.”

“I’d ask you how you’re doing, but I figured, you know, you’re in Hell, so probably not great.”

“No man, not really.”

“Does that devil guy have to do that to you while we’re talking?”

“Yeah, he always does that.”

“But isn’t it, you know, painful?”

“Yeah. Actually, very painful.”

“They grow back, though?”

“That part’s a little gross. Let’s just skip it, OK? So how’d you get in here? They told me I couldn’t have any visitors, not even other Damned dudes.”

“Well, up in Heaven we get pretty much anything we ask for. I mean dude, the weed! And I have this thing going with Heidi Klum … I don’t know if it’s actually, you, know Heidi Klum, but–”

“Now I’m getting why they let me see you. I thought I was miserable, but the thought of you up there smoking weed with Heidi Klum while I’m down here just made me really miserable.”

“We don’t just smoke weed: we play Halo, we go to Santana concerts … Oh, and they’ve got these awesome air battles! Everybody gets wings, right? And you pack a picnic lunch–”

“Dude, TMI. Hell, remember?”

“Oh yeah–sorry. Anyway, I came down here because I wanted to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Want to get the hell out of here?”

“Whoa! Holy crap!”

“Sorry. I didn’t get you a little, did I?”

“Dude! Where’d you get that gun?”

“I told you, you can get anything you want up there.”

“There are little bits of burned devil all over me!”

“Sorry about that … and the smell.”

“Dude, don’t apologize. That was awesome!”

“Here, I brought another gun for you. Want to go play some real-life Doom before we ditch this place?”

“”You utterly and completely rock, man. But are they going to just let me in up there? Are they even going to let you back in?”

“I don’t know, dude. Anyplace has got to be better than this pit though, right?”

“But the weed! And Heidi Klum!”

“Yeah, but Dude … you can’t replace friends.”

Archive for the ‘Daniel Braum’ Category

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