Author Archives: Kurt Luchs

Halloween Costumes You Should Start Working On Now To Be Ready By Next Halloween

By: Matt Weir

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Zombie Mountain


1. Buy a large amount of various cheeses. Make sure that you have not heard of at least six of them.

2. Sculpt mountain out of these cheeses (use Cheez Whiz as adhesive).

3. Hollow out inside.

4. Cut out eyeholes.

5. Leave in yard until use on Halloween.

Flammable San Francisco


1. Take an aerial photograph of San Francisco. (Note: Due to the size of San Francisco, you may have to take several pictures and painstakingly match them up to create the full city.)

2. Figure out a suitable scale size for all buildings, roads, parks, cars, men, parking meters, women, trees, benches, puddles and sidewalk cracks.

3. Buy toothpicks and glue stick.

4. Build city using materials purchased in step 3.

5. Attach city to giant apparatus that you will be able to wear.

6. Buy lighter and gasoline.

7. At party, when asked what you are, answer by yelling, “Flammable San Francisco!” and then use materials purchased in step 6 to demonstrate your flammability.

8. Build one Flammable San Francisco costume for every person you feel will ask you what you are supposed to be. Use graphing calculators and standard deviation formulas to do this (show work on loose-leaf paper).

9. After estimating this number, contact Ryder and reserve truck for storage/transportation of costumes next October 31st.

Beard Pants


1. Begin growing beard. (Note: If you’re a woman, begin taking male hormone pills now and make this a “Halloween After The Next Halloween” project.)

2. Stretch beard daily using an angry dog’s mouth.

3. Lose friends and loved ones as they begin to abandon you and your new “friend.” Accuse them of caring only about appearances, even though in reality you know you’ve changed on the inside too. You know that you’re a different person and that you’ll never be the same. Weep into beard. Try to force back tears but then just give up and let them pour out. Ring out beard later. (Note: Do not drink beard juice — unless you want to be a creep, in which case, be my guest, weirdo.)

4. Lovingly craft a pair of pants out of beard while keeping it attached to your face (do not forget those little rivet things near the pockets and stuff).

5. On the big night, remember to travel to party through back roads and alleys to avoid being arrested by police officers. (Note: Abandon Beard Pants costume at any time if hairy pants become a popular trend.)

Drunkest Person Ever


1. Start now.

2. Chug!

3. Don’t be a wimp, wimp.

4. Repeat steps 2 and 3 until Halloween or your death, whichever comes first. (Note: If it’s the latter, instead of Drunkest Person Ever, your costume is now Worm Town.)

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“The Swan” Episode 4

By: Winter Miller

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The doors of the mansion open and in strolls host Ana Recxique. Tonight one woman will make the journey before your eyes from unbearably average to drop-dead gorgeous to be crowned “The Swan.”

Meet the contestant. D’Andrea Milton is a florist from Springfield,
Massachusetts. Deenie would love to look in the mirror and be happy. That dream was far from her experience growing up. She remembers a time in middle school when she was spit on by her peers. Fortunately, Deenie has a boyfriend who loves her for who she is but believes their relationship could be better if she were softer and more graceful. Deenie doesn’t want to feel sorry for herself. She wants to become a Swan.

Enter the experts. Their goal is to transform ugly ducklings into beautiful swans. They’ve got their work cut out!

The panel agrees, Deenie’s got potential. A nip here, a tuck there! Deenie will receive complimentary: chin and legs liposuction, hand amputation, collagen, feather extensions, wing augmentation, Lasik eye surgery, bleaching, brow removal, nose and mouth reconfiguration, beak and webbed-feet formation, tummy tuck and a stomach staple.

As she is escorted to makeover mansion, Deenie makes her first discovery: not only will she be cut off from family and friends, but there are no mirrors.

Let’s meet Deenie’s surgeon, Dr. Ivantew Kelyu. His patented neck extender won the Surgical Prize in 1994 and again in 1996. He has written articles for YM, Yankee Fisherman, and American Cowboy. Deenie’s major liposuction is par for the course, but Dr. Kelyu says, “Creating wingspan is going to be a truly
awesome experience.”

After catching the late-night movie, Marathon Man, Deenie is all nerves over her visit to her reconstructive dentist, Tina Schellbern. But Dr. Schellbern is a real softy. When not making people smile, she goes for walks with her girlfriend Maia and their three dachshunds. Dr. Schellbern admits Deenie will be her first beak. “This seemed like a real challenge, and I thrive under pressure, especially televised pressure. Also, this will be a milestone for the gay community: the first time a lesbian performs beak construction in the U.S.” After surgery, Deenie cries out, possibly in pain, but no one understands her.

Up next is a visit to Dr. Vish Inless, renowned laser-eye-surgery specialist. Deenie’s baby blues will be replaced with small jet-black eyes and her peripheral vision will be reduced. Dr. Inless hails from Johns Hopkins, where he earned three degrees, each more advanced than the former. He is the go-to guy for the Bette Davis Eyez procedure. He has performed surgery live on Regis and Kelly, Montel, and the 2002 PBS telethon.

Deenie comes through just fine, and when the bandages are removed, her eyes are coal-black and her five-foot-six frame is nearly one third the size. But how will Deenie keep the pounds off? Deenie, welcome TaHeill.

Malcolm TaHeill is a fitness guru who has trained CEOs of failed Fortune 500 companies. Known for his bestseller You: Only Less!, Malcolm’s CD of romantic fitness songs, Just Do It: for Love, hits QVC in June. Malcolm’s primary focus is to build wingspan.

Enter nutritionist Debbie Ornadahby. Through a feeding tube, Debbie introduces Deenie to her new diet: arrowhead, pondweeds, sedges, cattail, duckweed, and — an extra treat — water moss. Debbie’s approach is no-nonsense: “If she wants to live to thirty-two, knowing which roots and stems are right for her is essential.”

At last Deenie’s jaw is healed; she is ready for speech therapy with Anuncia Talowdenclehr, of the Academy of Dramatic Arts. She instructs Deenie on maximizing her double-looped windpipe for a deeper call. Deenie takes to it like a pro, and everyone is inspired by her dedication and motivation. Soon she will have a lovely, sonorous cry!

Now it’s time to evaluate Deenie’s mental health. Annette Ifufall is a life coach and therapist who has read tons of Freudian theory. Her audiocassette From Anal, Oral and Back Again with a Sense of Humor is on bookstore shelves. Dr. Ifufall has been featured on A Current Affair, Joe Millionaire, and Good Day Detroit.

Deenie is progressing! But she’s a long way from her goal weight. In fact, the scale claims she’s gained weight. Time to cut back on some of those late-night seed binges.

With a picture of Audrey Hepburn for inspiration, Deenie swings into high gear, and as the pounds shed, what was once a thin layer of downy fur is fast becoming a beautiful coat of feathers.

Annette Ifufall returns for one last coaching session. It’s up to Deenie to decide which side of the V she’ll fly in, the shorter side or the longer side, and whether she’ll be in the middle or near the front. Annette reminds Deenie that mating season is in the summer, and Louis for now means Louis forever, or at least until he dies. After a few last words of wisdom about choosing a wetland with a sufficient breeding population and what to expect from post-hatch moulting, Annette is finally ready to release her charge.

Remember, Deenie has been in seclusion and hasn’t seen herself in seventy-six mentally and physically challenging hours. She’s received text messages from Louis, but she’s been unable to push the buttons to read them.

Time for the reveal!

Deenie weighed in at thirty-five pounds, a mere five pounds over her goal weight! It’s time for Deenie to have a look at her new self. She takes a deep breath. Host Ana urges her toward the mirror.

Deenie sees her gorgeous, white reflection.

“Is that me?” she thinks. She briefly wonders if it’s one of those fake mirrors that make you look like a swan. She looks at herself, and preens. She is thin, beautiful, and the most graceful creature on earth. She is sure when Louis sees her, they will mate for life. She marvels at her snowy white feathers, slender legs, and jet-black feet. Looking closely, she sees Dr. Schellbern’s added touch of a thin orange line on her lower bill. The workouts have had their desired effect: her eight-foot wingspan is toned and glistening and her neck is more beautiful than Audrey Hepburn’s.

Ana has one last surprise for Deenie: Louis is standing behind the curtain.

But wait, there’s more. In front of everyone, Louis gets down on one knee, places Deenie on his other knee and asks to marry her. The look on Deenie’s face tells you all you need to know: she now believes dreams really can come true.

Louis leans in to kiss Deenie, but surprised by his looming silhouette, she squeaks and bites his fleshy cheek. Clutching his bloody jowl, Louis shrugs it off, “She’s got cold feet — my mother and father fought like cats and dogs the day they got engaged.”

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An Interview With Mr. Bluesman

By: Michael Fowler

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Interviewer: Good morning, Mr. Bluesman. If I could just say, those are some fine leathery old hands you have.

Mr. Bluesman: Dees hands be made for a geetar, or drinkin’ in a bar, heh heh heh!

Interviewer: I hear you, Mr. Bluesman. Now, Mr. Bluesman, I got a dog won’t hunt at all. I say, Mr. Bluesman, I got a dog won’t hunt at all.

Mr. Bluesman: You take that dog and get him on the ball. You know you take that dog and get him on the ball.

Interviewer: You’re right, Mr. Bluesman, that should prove helpful. But you see, Mr. Bluesman, times is gettin’ hard at home. Ain’t no doubt, Mr. Bluesman, times sure be gettin’ hard at home.

Mr. Bluesman: One and one is two, two and three is five, it always tough to stay alive. I say it always tough to stay alive.

Interviewer: You’re correct, Mr. Bluesman, that’s sound thinking. But the thing is, Mr. Bluesman, my woman she cold and mean. My woman she cold and mean too, Mr. Bluesman, what can I do?

Mr. Bluesman: What can you do? Buy a new pair of shoes. Shake dem blues with a new pair of shoes.

Interviewer: Merci, Mr. Bluesman, I can’t thank you enough. And thank you for talking with us today.

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Les Miz: Spring Drama, Midland High School — Production Notes From The Director

By: T.W.

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Hi, gang!

Overall, things are going great! We’ve got a killer show on our hands this year! I know if we all pull together, we can make this a show to remember.

Just a few itty bitty notes…

COSTUME

Prostitutes: Let’s tone down the makeup a bit, ladies. Too over the top. You are just hookers on the street, not in a Christina Aguilera video.

ACTING

Javert: Keep up the good work! Oh, but can we get you to move a bit? I know you aren’t used to the lifts and last week’s mishap was unfortunate, but maybe you could wear them around school just to get used to them. (But please check with administration about the school insurance policy first.)

Eponine: Welcome back, my Broadway Baby! We missed you! And I want you to hold your head up high around school. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Rehab did wonders for you,darling!

Crowd: You are sooooooo important! Just because you don’t have speaking roles doesn’t mean you aren’t valuable members of our little troupe. You’ve got to get involved in the action on stage. No cell calls while on stage! I mean it!.

Student soldiers: Concentrate. No clicking of triggers unless you are actually fighting someone.

And remember — good soldiers do not put rifle barrels in their mouths.

Fantine: It’s your death scene. You don’t want a dry eye in the house when you finally come to your demise. Sell it, my dear! And lose the gum.

Mme. Thenardier: Remember, she wants everyone to think of her as high-falutin’ when actually she is just French white trailer trash. (No offense to our mobile home-living students — or our white or French-ancestry students, either, for that matter.) Sweetie, see if your parents will let you watch “The Anna Nicole Show.”

Valjean: You can be so good when you really set your mind to it! But what can I do to get you to stop giggling? And I must ask you to refrain from overt displays of affection with Cossette during breaks. Yes, I know in real life you two are dating, but in the play you are like adopted father and daughter and quite frankly, it’s freaking some of us out.

SCENERY

Way to go guys! I can almost smell the croissants! Your dedication to authenticity is an inspiration to us all — which brings up one small point. Standard fake stage blood (which we want) does not coagulate and turn brown. Some in the cast (who did quite well in biology mid-terms, I might add) are concerned that your desire to “keep it real” may have gone a bit too far. I’m not going to ask questions. Don’t ask, don’t tell. But please, boys, remember we are representing the entire school and we want to be on our best behavior. Yes, that includes you, Ernie. Geeks rock!

FINAL THOUGHTS

I’m excited! Are you excited?! Just think, a few weeks ago we hardly knew each other, and now we are a family!

And yes, families have squabbles but — and this is important — they stick together.

Now I know some in the community have voiced protest over our interracial casting of our young lovebirds Marius and Cossette, but I’m glad to say that the school board is standing behind us 100 percent.

Keep your fingers crossed, but there’s talk that even the fathers of our two actors…Mr. Khalid and Mr. Bronstein, may attend.

And please inform your family and friends that the tickets will be one dollar more than originally advertised. I’m told the additional funds will support the extra security.

Exit stage left,

Ms. McCorlicum

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Notes from a Sensitive Grammarian

By: Michael Fowler

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As a man of flawless diction and grammar who is also hell-bent on improving the ordinary man’s spoken English, I submit a few grotesque howlers that a variety of people have addressed to me in the last few days. Frankly, the speakers quoted here made me feel ill, so sensitive am I to errant language. I then offer the corrected versions, or what the simpletons should have said, in hopes this will improve the lot of man and settle my stomach.

1.) “Get out of the car and put your hands over your head.”

Poor diction indeed, betraying the speaker as a ruffian and a barbarian. It is much better for the officer to say, “Sure you went through a red light and struck that old lady back there, but I’ll let you off with a warning this time.”

2.) “Who wants to see your shriveled old thing? Pull your pants up.”

Frankly embarrassing. One cringes to hear such English, even from a pretty young lady in the park on a Sunday morning. Of course, it should be, “Let’s play Hide Mister Mole.”

3.) “Hey, man, can I borrow ten bucks till payday?”

Completely uncivil and showing a total disregard for the niceties of language. The correct wording is, “Hey, man, here’s that ten bucks I borrowed from you last week, and another ten for being there when I needed you.”

4.) “Your account is overdrawn. I’ll have to apply a service charge to your next deposit.”

Reprehensible in an otherwise sophisticated and well-trained teller. Proper is, “Would you like free checking?”

5.) “I’m afraid your car needs a lot of expensive work.”

Note how changing just a few words can render this faulty sentence correct, to wit, “Your car needs a small amount of inexpensive work.” Or even better, “Your car is okay.”

6.) “We’ll know more after the biopsy.”

Physicians are highly educated people, but even they can lapse into elementary blunders that lead to misunderstandings and, possibly, malpractice suits. Here the doctor should say, “It’s just a wart.”

7.) “I know I should have mentioned it earlier, but I have herpes.”

Sad to say, but one hears this infuriatingly faulty expression more and more these days. As we all should know by now, correct is, “I have a cramp.”

8.) “You’re not built very big.”

As bedroom talk, this leaves a lot to be desired. Is it really more difficult to say the correct “What a monster!”?

9.) “I feel like going to the opera tonight.”

Hideous, showing that, in women, beauty and good grammar do not always accompany each other. The lady should say, “Let’s go see female spaghetti wrestlers tonight.” Some grammarians, it is true, prefer “Let’s go to a tractor-pull tonight”; however, either is correct.

10.) “I have a gun. Hand over your wallet.”

Even a second grader should know what’s wrong here, although I doubt the man who said it to me had even that much education. He should simply have said, “I’ll work for food,” which is less cumbersome and safer in mixed company.

11.) “I done brought my Playboy Bunny sister over here to meet up with you on account of she thinks you is cute.”

Impeccable. Keep up the good work.

Again, these are just a few of the phrases, most of them appalling in their formulation, that have recently come my way. Be careful to avoid the first ten, and let others know how inappropriate they are. That way we will all work together for a grammatically correct world, which is the only kind of world I feel okay in.

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Did Someone Call Me Snorer?

By: Kurt Luchs

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Sleep…sweet, sweet, sleep…let it come…the soft fog lowering among the white pines…black waves hissing against the sand…in, and out…in, and out…the unblinking moon in the mist…a sea bird trills gently, distantly…the bird cries…how sad, it says…how beautiful…its voice goes an octave lower…two octaves higher…it gurgles…hiccups…what’s wrong with that bird?…it makes a sound like a rachet…getting closer, louder…rasping like a ruptured air hose…now shrieking and swooping…gibbering and — and laughing!…flapping horribly — that thing was never meant to fly…oh God, it’s not a bird, not a bird but a bug…a great, hideous, jabbering insect…all swirling tendrils and swollen abdomen…a thousand eyes, a thousand mouths — all staring, screaming…blotting out everything…

I bolted upright, gasping. My wife lay next to me. Her snores filled the room with a wash of sound, an alien symphony of whistles, grunts and nasal blasts. When I nudged her she mumbled and turned over, muffling the free concert. I lay back thinking, Where did she get such talent? From her Uncle George, the one who could smoke cigarettes through his ears? Or the grandfather she wouldn’t talk about — what was his name?…

“Grandpa Vlad.”

“Jah?” He raised his lidless eyes and looked through me. Hard to believe a gaze that tranquil could hide a broken mind.

“Your soup, Grandpa. Finish your soup.” I pushed the bowl toward him and he looked through it. I placed the spoon in his hand and he smiled. He began warbling a little song, accompanying himself by tapping the spoon on his water glass.

“In heaven dere iss no beer, dat’s why ve drink it here…” He coughed into his soup.

“Grandpa!”

“Jah, jah sure,” he said. He peered into the bowl. “Hello in dere. Anybody home?” When no one answered he dipped his spoon, took a long sip followed by a long breath and, liking the rhythm of it, finished his soup that way — sipping and breathing. The obscene slurping noises he made complemented his cadaverous wheezings, and I found myself listening for which would stop first. But they didn’t stop.

He reached the bottom of the bowl and kept going, licking the bowl when his spoon failed to bring up any more. His tongue was incredibly long. I wondered why I had never noticed it before.

“That’s enough, Grandpa.” The slurping got louder. There was no more soup but he kept sucking frantically, pursing his thick lips into a pulsating “O” like some monstrous pink lamprey. How could he keep inhaling without exhaling? I shivered suddenly and backed away. The slurping was deafening — he held the bowl to his face by sheer force of suction — and then the bowl vanished inside him. His unblinking eyes bulged swiveling from his head as the wind from within him tugged at everything loose in the restaurant: knives, forks, napkins, saltshakers, tablecloths — all flew into the widening hole that had been his face. A busboy screamed, waved his arms and tried to run, but Grandpa got him, sucking him in like a piece of lint.

Then he turned on me. His gaping orifice emitted sounds that should never be heard on this earth. Just as he was reaching for me with his shuddering snout he inhaled one of his own arms. There was a terrible screeching of torn fabric and flesh, and in a moment he sucked himself out of existence, disappearing with an audible pop.

I sat up yelling his name before I knew where I was. I didn’t want to be alone then. Shaking my wife to rouse her enough to share my misery, I noticed she wasn’t breathing right. She was sleeping on her stomach — something I had never seen her do — and her face was buried in the pillow, twisting back and forth. I turned her over but the pillow came with her, and I had to pull it out of her mouth.

“What are you doing?” she snapped. “Leave me alone!”

“You tried to swallow the pillow.”

“So?”

“You were making a noise like a vacuum cleaner in molasses.”

“So?”

“So you woke me up.”

“I woke you up? I was only trying to cover my ears. I haven’t gotten three minutes of sleep all night with your snoring. You sound like a French horn being played by a rabid howler monkey.”

I hit her with the pillow and got up to look at the moon.

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A Tour Of The Zoo

By: Neil Pasricha

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(Sound of birds chirping and children laughing.)

Oh, hello! And welcome to the Metropolitan Zoo’s Audio Guidebook. Thank you for joining us today on a beautiful listen through the zoo. Weather such as today’s weather is perfect for our tour, so let’s get going! Get your bags together, make sure you have your hat on, and we’ll begin. Press “stop” on the tape now and then press “play” when you’re ready to start.

*****

So! (Long, uncomfortable pause.) You’re blind. We know, it’s pretty rough (tuba blats) but you know what? It’s also…good enough! (Bugle blares.) While being blind means you can’t drive a car to the zoo (sound of a car hitting a wall, and then a hubcap rolling away), it doesn’t mean you can’t take a tour of the zoo! So keep that chin up, those fists clenched, and that seeing-eye dog leashed, and let’s start by taking two hundred steps straight ahead. Press “stop” on the tape and then click “play” when you hit the Plexiglas window and feel like you’re in the shade.

*****

You made it! Congratulations on visiting the first stop on the tour. Now, to your immediate left are the grizzly bears. There are four of them either sitting on a log, sleeping near the pond, or not doing either of those things. Also, if any of them have had babies or died since this tape was made in November 1996, there may be a different number of bears, doing some sort of other thing, today at the zoo! Feel free to ask a fellow zoo-lover what the bears are doing. (Whispering.) And psst, maybe make a lighthearted joke about your blindness to alleviate the tension! We recommend saying, “Bear with me, I can bearly see these things — do you mind telling me what they’re doing now?” (Normal voice.) Press “stop” on the tape now to ask some questions and then press “play” when you’re ready to hear more about bears.

*****

Thanks for coming back to the tour. And now that you know what the bears are doing let’s try and picture what they look like. First, take a second and touch your own face. See how your nose juts out of your head like that? Don’t worry, it’s normal! Ha ha ha ha ha HA HA HA HA HA!!! Now. Picture your nose jutting out several more inches! Oh and by the way, an inch is approximately the size of half your thumb. And…sorry, but just so we’re clear, the thumb is that short fat finger on your hand. Now, did you picture a longer nose? Good. Now touch your teeth. See how pointy they are? Imagine they were much more pointy. This is what a bear looks like. Much more pointy teeth and a bigger, more extended nose. Now picture attaching a dinner roll to the bottom of your spine and you’ll have yourself a bear’s tail. Rowrrr! You’re a bear! You want to eat berries! You like fish! You will potentially maul and viciously murder campers! Ha ha ha! (Pause.) Now please stop the tape, walk fifty feet north-northwest, and press “play” again. Remember, if you get lost, just raise your hands and clap them together three times (sound of three claps) so one of our zoo tour guides will come and help you. Okay, and stop the tape…now!

*****

Welcome back! And congratulations on braving the walk across that rickety rope bridge over the extremely dangerous alligator pit!…Ha ha ha! Just kidding! You actually just walked through the Asian Pavilion themed food court. (Sound of a gong smash.) Go on. Take a whiff. (Sound of a nose sniffing.) You’re probably smelling soy sauce and chicken balls that someone spilled on the ground. Now, is your seeing-eye dog barking? If so, that’s unfortunately against zoo policy and you may be asked to leave. Also, it’s probably because we’re at the wolf pen! That’s right — dogs tend to know their own, and wolves — or Canis lupus — are actually an ancestor of today’s common domestic dog. What’s your dog’s name, anyway? (Pause.) Oh, that’s a nice name! I also have one called that.

One thing you probably haven’t noticed about the wolf pen is that there are wolves in it. That’s right — as you listen to this tape, a pack of wolves is undoubtedly performing incredibly wolflike activities, including making wolf noises, looking like a wolf, and walking in a wolflike fashion. Take your time to enjoy the wolves (sound of a nose sniffing) and then, when you’re ready, stop the tape and take seventy steps to your immediate right. Stop when you hit a metal rail and hear splashing.

Hello again! And welcome to the penguin area! Directly in front of you right now are penguins likely sunning themselves and waddling around looking for fish. Penguins, like you and me, walk. But unlike me, and potentially unlike you, they walk funny. Have you ever dropped your pants and then tried to walk around while they were still around your ankles? Pretty awkward, right? Well, guess what! This is how penguins walk around all day! Also, have you ever worn a tuxedo? Like to a wedding or something? It’s like clothes, but nicer? Some people say that it looks like penguins are wearing tuxedos due to the black and white color of their feathers. By the way, black is the color of your eyelids when you’re going to sleep and white is the color of your eyelids when you stare directly at the sun, the hot part of the sky. And … well, penguins are pretty weird, basically. And bears are, too. And so are wolves. For the most part, going to the zoo is like meeting all these weird versions of yourself, and instead of doing things like you, they do things unlike you. That’s what going to the zoo is all about! Meeting weird-yous.

Please stop the tape, turn around, and take sixty steps straight ahead.

*****

Welcome back to the zoo entrance. We hope you have enjoyed a brief tour of the Metropolitan Zoo and we hope you come back soon. By the way, we are requesting funds in our budget to put together a new tape each year, so we will introduce you to different animals and pavilions each time you come. If you’re listening to a really old tape right now, it means that we either didn’t get our budget approved, or the rental clerk was all out of the current tape and figured you wouldn’t notice. Either way, thanks!

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A Letter to Layla, My Paper Shredder

By: Daniel Cox

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Dearest Layla,

When I laid my eyes on you for the first time, as I crumpled and cast aside the slick and cheery Christmas wrapping paper, I doubted your significance. After all, you weren’t in my list of Christmas desires. Little did I know my list of Christmas desires would soon be in you.

I remember unsealing your box and gently parting your beautifully corrugated flaps. You didn’t make it easy, with the glue lines, packing tape, and industrial-sized staples, but I respected that deeply. I beheld your stark, matte nakedness and inhaled as if startled, so suddenly was the fullness of your utility, your power, thrust into my consciousness. Forgive me for such a vivid painting of our meeting, but I recall the precious memory of it in slow motion now, because I relish it so. Still, in those early hours, my plans for you and our relationship were mostly functional. How little I knew.

We’ve had so much fun together, Layla. Remember our courtship? I just couldn’t stop using you when we first got acquainted. Again, I can’t find the words — I am smitten, yes, fascinated, intoxicated, addicted, but these words seem so inadequate. Something so alluring, so strong, so satisfying, you, my feelings for you, this mesmerizing infatuation. I have given you everything, my old file contents, paid bills, mail, new file contents, unpaid bills, drafts of my work, current magazines, my comic book and baseball card collections, the family photos, even that twenty I found in my wife’s purse. I wanted to share it all with you, Layla. I did share it all with you, Layla.

Your only flaw is that you tire sometimes, only physically, I know, and not emotionally. So I let you rest, tenderly disconnecting power (for three minutes, per your manual, which I have since fed to you along with the instructions to everything else I own). And I suppose I get annoyed when you jam up, requiring that I pick things out of your cute little teeth (which is rather unflattering for both of us). But then I realize I want to care for you in this way. I want you to need me. I want to know what’s inside of you. Of course, your sharp, rotating jaws remind me to temper my passion when my fingers stray to the buttons on my clothing and I grow feverish for your sensual touch.

I have a surprise for you, Layla. Bet you thought I forgot what you told
me the other night in my dreams. No, I didn’t forget. Not for a second. And
you’re absolutely right. You’re twice the woman she is, and you’re not even
a woman. Hope you saved room for dessert, Layla darling, ’cause I have the
marriage certificate right here.

My love always,

Your Danny

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A Cannibal’s Wine Cellar

By: David Martin

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“The trial of [Armin] Meiwes…offered a lurid glimpse into the dark side of cyberspace. It took the public into the mind of a man who built a death chamber in his half-timbered farmhouse and dined on parts of [Bernd] Brandes while sipping South African red wine.”

— Los Angeles Times – January 31, 2004

Excerpts from the first draft of “A Cannibal’s Wine Cellar,” a work in progress by Armin Meiwes:

Apart from a mandatory metal autopsy table and meat-hanging hooks, every cannibal’s basement should include a good wine cellar. May I recommend these vintages from my own personal collection:

Château Puyfromage 1999


You won’t pay an arm and a leg for this ruby-colored, aromatic red, although you may want to serve it with an arm and a leg. A hearty Bordeaux with hints of raspberry and oak, it goes well with almost any roast limb.

Pol Roger Brut 2001


What better way to celebrate the first meeting with your new victim than with French champagne? Whether or not you manage to ingest his severed member, this dry, medium-bodied bubbly is definitely a great way to say “thank you for being you.”

Beaujolais Villages 2000


The light, fruity bouquet of this well-known Burgundy complements a pan-fried rib steak garnished with garlic and mushrooms. Remember, if your “friend” was over 40, be sure that any excess fat is trimmed before cooking.

Black Opal Shiraz 1998


It’s always difficult to know what to serve with organ meats. But the deep purple color and hearty flavor of this Australian wine underscore the stronger tastes associated with heart, kidneys and liver. For a really tender treat, slow cook the organ meat in a Shiraz-based marinade.

Niersteiner 1999


A touch of sweetness in this classic German white bodes well for any lighter cuts. Whether it’s a breaded slice of breast or a serving of braised sweetbreads, a Rhine Valley white like Niersteiner will never overpower these delicate-tasting meals.

Valpolicella 2002


When those odds and ends become ground round, there’s no better low-budget hamburger wine than Valpolicella. Break out the barbecue and enjoy your grilled manburger with a big, bold Italian red. Goes great with a homemade pasta sauce as well.

Châteauneuf-du-Pape 1997


This is a special-occasion wine and the special occasion may well be an entire roast thigh turned on your barbecue spit. Invite a few flesh-eating friends over to enjoy a “runner’s roast” washed down with a couple of bottles of France’s best.

Sauterne


Any of the semisweet golden offerings will go great with everyone’s favorite dessert — mincemeat tarts. The tangy taste of this fruit-flesh pastry confection is accentuated by the smooth sweetness of the Sauterne.

Port


When you’re having a friend for dinner and you’ve invited others to join you, it’s always nice to finish the evening with cigars and port. Any of the Portuguese brands of this fortified sweet wine will go well with after-dinner noshes like finger foods or man jerky.

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A Life Reviewed: A Collection of Blurbs

By: Russell Bradbury-Carlin

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“Maybe two or three times in a generation, a person transcends his or her humanity to become myth-like. Bradbury-Carlin is not an event of this order.”

— Time

“Bradbury-Carlin finds poignancy, terror, sacrifice, (some bit of) wisdom, mystery, numerable neuroses, heartbreak and a real emotional impact that emerges from a life lived just under the speed limit.”

— Newsweek

“A cross between America’s Funniest Videos’ Bob Saget and a slightly melancholic David Schwimmer, of Friends. This is no mere hyperbole.”

— Entertainment Weekly

“A strange, perplexing and, at times, indecipherable life.”

— Clark Derpot, The Christian Science Monitor

“Bradbury-Carlin’s tragicomic life — a fantasia of bad television shows and bizarre writings and an addiction to English muffins — invokes the glorious, unreliable promises of art, politics and beauty.”

— Jack Krumb, WTOC Radio

“This man is truly mediocre. Middle-aged, white, middle-class and male — a heady pastiche of all that is deemed ‘average.'”

— The Washington Post

“Elegantly alluring…a life that works both as a paean to love (of caffeine) and a subtly sly comedy of errors.”

— Cosmopolitan

“Bradbury-Carlin is certainly pleasurable enough, I guess.”

— Cass Fremont, Saturday Review

“The scenes of his eluding the grade school bully for almost a full year with his elaborate, methodical escape routes home…worth the price of admission. The scenes of his fumbling through a daisy chain of first dates and awkward sexual encounters…priceless.”

— New York Times

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