Boredom Can Be A Lethal Thing On

[in Reference To Turkey Bowling] He [tommy] Squinted And Picked His Target, Then Took His Steps And Sent The Bird Sliding Down The Aisle. A Collective Gasp Rose From The Crew As The Fourteen-pound, Self-basting, Fresh-frozen Projectile Of Wholesome Savory Goodness Plowed Into The Soap Bottles Like A Freight Train Into A Chorus Line Of Drunken Grandmothers.

Whistler,' Manet Called. 'how's Your Mother?

Moses Should Have Said "let My People Go. Please."

Routine Feeds The Illusion Of Safety.

Tommy Had Felt Alone In A Crowd Before, Even Inferior To Everyone In A Crowd, But Now He Felt, Well, Different. It Wasn't Just The Clothes And The Make Up, It Was The Humanity. He Wasn't Part Of It. Heightened Senses Or Not, He Felt Like He Had His Nose Pressed Against The Window, Looking In. The Problem Was, It Was The Window Of A Donut Shop.