Today's Word: Stalk


The eye, which was actually a mechanical iris attached to a springy stalk, turned to gaze at Leslie. She tried not to shudder, but it was no use, her body was no longer slave to her will. The eye moved closer, green light spilling from around the black pupil onto Leslie's nude figure. With her arms, legs and head held fast by strong metal wires, the young blonde woman could not turn away. She could only shut her eyes and scream.

Three loud pops, issuing from the darkness, roused Leslie from her horrified stupor. She opened her eyes in time to see the springy eye drop to the spaceship's metal floor with a crash. A man appeared below her. He was dressed in a trench coat, fedora, and black pants. In one hand he held a smoking revolver -- a Saturday night special -- and in the other flickered a cigarette.

"You're safe now, dollface," said Rock Malone. "I'll get you down."

Despite the situation, or perhaps because of it, Leslie felt an absurd fit of infatuation steal over her as she gazed down on the tall figure's broad shoulders and slim waist. She knew she shouldn't feel such excitement by the mere presence of a man, especially when hanging naked and helpless above him, but the raw power of her passion could not be denied.

Be sure to tune in next week for the exciting continuation of _The Adventures of Rock Malone_ and the exciting conclusion to this episode.


-- david j.

Today's Word: Motivation


Somewhere along the line (if a finite creature's life can be compared to an endless, pointless etching, created by no one) I lost my motivation. It must have been sometime after high school, though you would never have guessed that from my grades. I was motivated then. I could run five miles, do five hundred sit-ups, and twenty ten-count push-ups. I could date and work and go to school, all without a worry about deadlines. Forget an appointment? Never. I kept it all in my head. Now those days are melted -- fried in the South Carolina heat -- and I'm stuck in Georgia, trying to remember what day it is, and what paper I was supposed to write.


-- david j.

Today's Word: Prognosticate


The body cannot prognosticate. It doesn't understand "later tonight" or "aftter this run". It doesn't care about the pizza that's in the fridge at home, or the tall glass of water you promise it after mile three.

The body does, however, remember. It remembers the three months of knee pain that only cleared up after you bought new shoes. It remembers how your ate donuts for breakfast and are now demanding another mile under the hot sun. And it remembers two days ago, when you almost vomited from the heat and lack of hydration. It remembers you walked home after that.


-- david j.

Today's Word: Scrawl


In the third stall of the second floor restroom, where most men cannot go, there is a message scrawled across the inside of the army green door. It reads: "Longarm strikes again".


-- david j.

Today's Word: Posthumous


. . . and thus former President Reagan became the first ex-president to be posthumously elected Vice President, securing George Bush's bid for a second term.


-- david j.

Today's Word: Shampoo

Every little boy should learn that if you lather your head with shampoo, then beat it like a drum, it creates artificial snowfall. Likewise, every boy should teach this to his little sister.


-- david j.