Jack hates white rooms. It's some cosmic joke that Jack's job is to sit in a white room and connect dots. The door to Jack's room opens and Irving Sandler waddles in carrying a stack of paper balanced in the crook of one arm while he tries to shut the door with the other. Jack … Continue reading Day Forty-Two – Pleasure Makes My Hands Smell Like Silly Putty
Daze of the Weak
Day Thirty-Three – The Mysteries of Porcine Aeronautics and You
I've not written an Inner Wild piece in a while. I'm not sure where this fits, or what planet this is on, or who Meretricious Mandy really is. I just know she's a Solarian, and I know why they call her Meretricious Mandy. --- Limping back from a long day on the hunt, Meretricious Mandy … Continue reading Day Thirty-Three – The Mysteries of Porcine Aeronautics and You
Godhood of the Infinitesimally Small 