The Midnight Writer is a freelance writer and contributor to popular websites and magazines. He's written three humor books and often writes while under the influence. Under the influence of what, he will not say.
In the heat of argument, people sometimes say some dumb things. For example, I once got in an disagreement with a coworker and told him that I was going to piss in his coffee. I didn't mean to say that. I meant to say "in his desk drawer" but it was all cleared up the next day when he reached into his desk drawer. He was so surprised he spit out the cup of piss I made him!
His bulbous thumb jammed the pause button and the miniature needle slowly scraped against the disc. He asked if we needed to hear it again. The idling boombox, eager to continue on it's predestined rotation, made a whizzing noise in an oddly quiet classroom of two dozen teens...
Courtney Lenz, a five year veteran of the Baltimore Ravens cheerleading squad, is claiming the team left her off the trip to the Super Bowl because of her "slight weight gain." Oh deer! Sorry, I meant dear. Force of habit with this squad.
Chris Culliver, the San Francisco 49ers cornerback who yesterday made some inappropriate remarks about gays on Arti Lange's radio show, is backtracking on those statements with the verbal Get Out Of Jail Free card known as "just kidding."
A recent piece of satire on one of my favorite sports websites prompted some research on another current favorite of mine – Lena Dunham. I realize that’s a substantial amount of a** kissing in one opening sentence but it’s true. Dunham is funny, unafraid to take risks and like her or not -- and plenty of people fall in the “or not” category -- she’s going to be around for a long time.
It's hidden in the back of my closet. It's been there for years. It gets mail delivered; it's that established. For four years it has maintained residence, because it managed to make it through the move from the old house. It was the first shirt hung in the new closet, because it was the first shirt out of the box, because it was the last shirt in the box after an hour of deliberation that concluded with "you never know when I'll need this shirt."
It was, by far, the largest clump of nose hair thine eyes had seen in the flesh. A county fair worthy thatch of hair protruding out the left nostril, like weeds who had found a small sidewalk crack out of which to flourish. It was mesmerizing, snow white, and honestly I couldn't stop since he boarded the train.
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