by Fed-up Philly… I used to be a jackal. That is to say, I once was a reporter. A journalist. A scavenger of the lowest kind. You know, like in the movie Nightcrawler. I’m all better now, thank God. Lucky for me, I woke up just in the nick of time. Read the whole feeding-frenzy…
by Connectedly Philly… I was in the Park when I heard the news about Wags Wagglestein, my attorney. Next thing I knew I was headed downtown. It had been a long time since I had been down to Mulberry Street, and suddenly I was feeling nostalgic. Read the whole spaghetti-eating story… My Time Spent…
by Steven Fischer… Beneath my feet, this world is breaking, dancing along to some beat I can’t fathom. Each note, resolute, as the ice cracks and grows, stretching in the warmth of the dayward side, contracting here in the shadows. An entirely natural phenomenon, they promise, but the strength of the song still makes me…
by Jamaica Kincaid… Wash the white clothes on Monday and put them on the stone heap; wash the color clothes on Tuesday and put them on the clothesline to dry; don’t walk bare-head in the hot sun; cook pumpkin fritters in very hot sweet oil; soak your little cloths right after you take them off.…
by Gas-guzzling Philly… I’m a Gas Guzzling, Water Wasting, Trash Heaping, Energy Hog. At least, that’s what my friend Freddy Floozy thinks. Yes, the same Freddy Floozy from The Adventures of Living Life on the Streets and Time Off from Having No Life at All. He hasn’t said anything, but I know he’s thinking it.…
by Ammar Habib… The prisoner looked down at the dirty floor. He would not even be given the honor of a final meal. If anything, the cruel warden and sadistic guards could have given him that. Even the worst criminals were treated to that decency. But alas, this prison was as inhumane as they come.…
by Ass-itchingly Philly… I just turned fifty and if it isn’t bad enough I’m a hypochondriac, now I’m a hypochondriac with hemorrhoids. I first discovered there was something wrong when I noticed I had spotting in my underwear. Spotting? But that’s girl’s stuff. The spotting evolved into a red skid mark, then full-blown red paint…
by Richard Hennerley… One cold winter’s day it occurred to Nora-Lee that she was desperately sad and more than a bit mad. She knew that she would never get to be the person she really wanted be, her life would always be found wanting compared to that of the Fabulous Dora-Lee. Read the whole sororicidal…
by Chug-a-lugging Philly… I think I’ll become an alcoholic. Why not? Sounds easy enough. I already lost my job, I’m about to lose my house, what else have I got to lose? A good friend of mine is an alcoholic. He’s got a job, in fact, just because he’s an alcoholic. He met his new…
by Man-frightened Philly… Ever wonder why women wear tight pants? I had no idea until my girlfriend told me. The whole thing with tight pants all began, believe it or not, because the clitoris has a hood. No joke. The clitoral hood covers the clitoris itself, sometimes entirely, and can often be a hindrance to…
