A man is a god in ruins. -Emerson They watched her dance, a thin chain of silver around her stomach shining against the firelight. She was blonde, fourteen; her skin, they only knew to describe as the color of wet pencil shavings. Her name, as they had always known, was North. The Birthright Child. The Living Womb and Savior. North.
A professorial history of sodomy turns out to be too much for the class. Until they're on their own and they decide the professor might be gay...
Still a little coked-up, Ray Mercer sits on the edge of a little, stone bench, staring through the tall windows of Charles Family Tuxedo Rental. He’s holding a flimsy deck of cards in his right hand, shuffling, cutting aptly. As Mercer’s hand flips through the cards, he speculates if he can scrape together enough money to rent a suit for his sister’s wedding.
<strong>On the Genius of Professor Hatfield</strong> <em>A Brief Autobiographical Fiction</em>
PIC's most well-endowed columnist bares all in a heart-warming tale of a pregnancy scare and how it brings people together... to fuck again.
What is this of an anal chirping, my brown-fingered King Xavier? Do tell at once, for the Archduke of Sodomy must perform his rectal duty!
If you want to know what's on a girl's mind, you're already too much of a sissy. Questions are for people who don't already know everything.
Time to toss out your pink Gillette: The Lady's Shave cut too close to home and must be thrown out. Nick's always leave a scar. *Sniff*
When you don't have penis strength because you're starving, and you can't eat because you're broke, money is no object, it's your sex life.
Girl, don't you worry about a thing, the NEW army is going to take care of you. You'll be sure to get noticed in our new line of pink camo.
The Lady's Shave cuts it close to the heart, spilling fresh droplets of red on Part I of this poignant short story. Let it be what it is, snob.