Haiku Cycle Requiem for the Indicator/Signal Light

Haiku Cycle Requiem for the Indicator Light

The dusty stick on
the left of your steering wheel
is your signal light.

You won’t shoulder check
So signaling is the least,
THE LEAST, you can do.

Click. How hard is that?
Click. There, I did it again.
Click. See how easy?

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A Critique of Celebrity Tweets, and Primarily Justin Bieber:
May26

A Critique of Celebrity Tweets, and Primarily Justin Bieber:

A Bieber in its natural habitat.

Recently due to a scheduling snafu, I missed out on an opportunity to give a public reading of the most hateful literature I could find. First, I recommend if you are in the Vancouver area you check out the “Say Wha?” show on June 8th, but in the meantime, I have located the motherload: The immensely compelling world of celebrity tweets, and specifically the genre-defining work of Justin Bieber.

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Happy Birthday Star Wars!
May25

Happy Birthday Star Wars!

It is May 25th, the 33rd anniversary of the release of Star Wars, and in celebration of this momentous occasion…we are posting links to stuff we’ve already written.

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I LIEK CHOCOLATE MILK DAY- June 15, 2010
May25

I LIEK CHOCOLATE MILK DAY- June 15, 2010

I LIEK CHOCOLATE MILK!

June 15 is “I LIEK CHOCOLATE MILK!” day.

ON JuNe 15th everybOdy on the FUcking planet is going to change their facebook status to say “I LIEK CHOCOLATE MILK!”. because I goddamn said so.

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Yes, I Like Pina Coladas!
May23

Yes, I Like Pina Coladas!

Our poll has closed, and we have discovered much about our poll-taking readers…


Take part in this week’s poll, over on the right there…

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A Prairie Tale
May21

A Prairie Tale

Recently, RobbieRobTown made a grant application to the Canadian Government for new works featuring “Stories of our Heritage”. Rob felt that he should be able to include elements of his favourite themes in a historical context. He was incorrect in that regard. The grant application was rejected summarily.

A Prairie Tale

Cornelia Perseverance Downing threw the door of the outhouse wide, and looked out across a wild and ceaseless prairie. The young barley was just now high enough to be tousled by the same late spring winds which tugged at Cornelia’s skirts. She hastened to readjust her Victorian garb. Green and naked, the barley wore no skirts, and would have laughed at Cornelia’s fussing, had it the voice to do so. “Ha!”, the barley would have said. “Haha to your manifold skirts!”

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