Mala Fide dotcom

α – I have no idea what to post. Have some news!

II – Hey, look! A new font! Hey, look! A little box for my current Twitter post! Hey, look! My comments are prettier than yours!

Tertius – Every Sunday at 7:00 PM (US Central, work it out yourself) point your browser at http://kevinpollakschatshow.com/, or go there now and watch old episodes. It’s the best chat show on teh intarwebs’s intervision.

Doot, doot, doot. Brain’s not working.

Last Saturday bit. Hard. I was caught in a flash flood, forced to stay the night in a hotel that’s a two minute drive from the Fortress of Squalitude, spent my entire tax refund, and the ERMobile was brung low. This egregiously fictionalized account makes me feel better. I don’t know anyone named Lula. I’m glad about that.

Eddie’s Rainy Day Adventure

© 2009 Ray Adam Latiolais

The water was too deep for the stolen car. He tightened the bath towel that was passing as medical help, grabbed his gun, slid into the knee-deep water, dragged himself to his feet, and left the Accord to its fate.

The rain pounded in his face and he regretted leaving his hat with Lula’s cooling body. It was a nice hat. A nice body, too. Too bad Lula had been in it. That body could have done a lot of good in the right hands.

The lights of a hotel cut the untimely darkness. He squinted at the logo and compared it to the keycard he’d taken from Lula.

“Got something right.”, he croaked.

Now he could kill Marty.

He staggered to the back of the hotel and found a door with a key reader on the lock. Lula’s card slid in and a green light flashed. The door opened into a stairwell. He looked at the keycard again. 206. He started up the stairs.

An eternity later he made the first landing. He fell to his knees and couldn’t go any farther. The cold began to close in. Marty would skate.

The door at the bottom of the stairwell opened and Marty walked in. Her cellphone was glued to her ear. She was talking to dead Lula’s phone. The door closed behind her.

He raised the gun. The movement caught Marty’s attention. The phone clattered on the floor.

“No, Eddie!”

Her face disappeared. Done deal. He was the only who knew where Miller’s 750K was and now he was dead. He managed a smile.

The darkness washed over him like rain.

Mmmm…pulpy!

Joyeux Pagemas!

YOU! ARE! NOT! WORTHY!

She’s not so much gone as ascended.

The Unfact™ is, to the best of our knowledge, completely false and unsupportable. We are not responsible for any consequences that are bound to occur if you are silly enough to believe it.

Although best known for her modeling career, Bettie Page, an expert stenographer, also invented the “HAWTGRL” keyboard, which can increase typing speeds by 173%.

Am I going to fast for you, Senator Kefauver?