Tag: humor

My new business isn’t paying off. My name is Kent Wayne—sci fi author, professional Man Whore, and three-time award-winner of the most attractive genitals in the Northern Hemisphere.  I’ve decided to capitalize on that by teaching a class:  Beautify Your Genitals Through the Power of Positive Thinking. “What the FUCK is this BULLSHIT!” one of…

Ah…the beautiful summer sun.  I close my eyes, basking in the warmth of the crisp-smelling air, the warm scented breeze.  There’s nothing better than San Francisco when the weather’s nice.  There’s no humidity, just a rejuvenating swirl of invigorating wind.  Hot, but not too hot; it feels almost like a light massage.  Nothing could ruin…

“Flight of the Bumblebee” cues up, AAAAAaannndd…. My handlers unlock my cage and let me loose onto the dance floor.  Beautiful Soccer Moms (they’ve all paid six-figure sums to participate in this tawdry little debacle) run every which way, squealing delightedly as I throw ham-handed swipes, “trying” to grab them so I can give em…

“Can you feel it, Kent?” the meditation instructor asks dreamily.  “Can you feel the energy rising through your chakras, charging your subtle body, transforming you into a golden dragon filled with love and—” I open my eyes and give her a skeptical look.  “Not really…to be perfectly honest, I can’t feel a thing.” “Well,” she…

Several weeks ago, I experienced an awakening.  I realized that I am no mere human; I’m a timeless entity trapped in a seven-year old’s body.  My knowledge is vast, my power immeasurable.  I have laid low armies and crossed the divide between wondrous realms—fantastic planes that our present-day physicists are completely unaware of.  And yet…

Where the fuck did I put my sandals?  I took em off so I could get on that stupid-ass waterslide, but now I have no idea where they are… I look around my boss’s yard, scanning for my beloved Crocs.  Nothing.  Nada. Fucking stupid-ass party…he made his son’s birthday party into a mandatory event, because…

Whoa…did I eat too many magic mushrooms or something?  This is…this is… I look around in dazed wonder, gaping at the ethereal columns of streaming iridescence, and the translucent haze beneath my feet.  It’s bowing slightly from the weight of my body, ringing my shoes with inward-dipping lines of distorted air.  Phantasmagoric creatures drift languidly…

I have no idea what to write. I just wrote that because I subscribe to the premise that when you’re honest about how you feel, you’re able to express your feelings in an honest manner.  Erroneous logic?  Maybe…all I know is that in my experience, that sentiment is 100% true.  In my case, it is…