Brief Moments of Honesty from Otherwise Dishonest People

            Your band sucks. Even through cell phone speakers, barely audible in a crowded bar, she realizes this truth, but her mouth is bound by courtesy. Your band is fucking terrible. It’s all she can think, anticipating the moment when the timer on his iPhone playlist reaches 0:00. She no longer notices the smell of sweat, the distressing and dank atmosphere of her surroundings, the heat, the discomfort of the wooden stool beneath her. All other senses are overridden by the noise, the clamor of countless other conversations around her and the I-IV-V chord progression playing faintly underneath them. Is he bobbing his head to his own song? He can’t be …
            “What do you think”

            “What do I think?”

            “Of the song?”

            “I can’t really hear it.”

            “Do you like it?”

            “It’s good.”       

An Excerpt from "Zombie Chimps and Other Seemingly Awesome Things that Suck"

Like any self-respecting author from my generation, I have written a trashy Zombie apocalypse novel that should probably stay hidden in the most remote folder on my computer, but because I love you guys so much (or hate or whatever), I have decided to share an excerpt of that novel with you. Enjoy.

             

My ass hurts. I suspect I’ve been bitten, though I pray that isn't the case, assuming I would have noticed if I had been, but in my wilder days, long before the infection turned us all wild, I had felt the sensation before. Of course, in those wild days, I would have enjoyed the bite; indeed, I might have even begged for more, but now, it makes me nervous—cautious whenever I sit down so as not to alert the suspicion of my peers. I wish I could have seen the frisky monkey who decided my ass would taste better than the brains further upstairs. If I had seen him, I’d have popped him right between his banana-loving eyes with the butt of my gun, and I would hit him and hit him again and again until his furry skull was spread across the African wilderness. For now, however, I will hold out as long as I can.