Published Articles:
5 Tips For Finding Your Perfect Apartment In The City
5 Ways ‘X Factor’ Countdowns Cleanse My Depression
Regular Articles/poems:
Remembering You, a poem for my late Grandfather
The sharp air at the top of Granite peak, the dark banks of the Chattahoochee River; the unequivocal ways in which the Aspens’ quiver; this is how I remember you.
From the Cretaceous period that started it all, to the mist that dances carelessly above Yellowstone falls, unbeknownst to the great heights below it; this is how I remember you.
Embracing the mischievous rapids of the Chatooga, the Grizzlies’ towering grace, and when presented with the evidence, who can forget the look on the jury’s face? This is how I remember you.
The kerosene-like resemblance of confiscated Georgia Moonshine, and him saying, I better not hear you whine; This is how I remember you.
The way you sat us on your lap and called us “keed”, you will always be a part of me. I will never forget you.
Brian Kemp promises each embryo 40 acres and mule
Atlanta, GA— While signing the heartbeat bill into law, Georgia Governor Brian Kemp stated that the bill will include each embryo acquiring 40 Acres and a mule in accordance to William Tecumseh Sherman’s 1864 field order. “To keep up with the vengeful and horrid killings of embryos in this country, we have given a promise that each embryo will acquire land and a mule for which to farm it. “As soon as we detect a heartbeat, the papers will be drawn and the mule will be shipped” the Governor elaborated to supporters and blood thirsty pro-lifers. Hidden in the fine print, it will become clear that the field order only pertains to those still in the womb. When an embryo is born, its 40 acres and mule is given to the next “threatened “embryo in line. Laws such as this are becoming more popular among lawmakers in red states; Missouri has erected plans to enter each embryo in the state lottery.
Pure Bliss, a Poem About lago di como, Italy
Few can reach it; and most don’t even come close. Nothing can describe it, and nothing can capture it. The mother of all moments; memory frozen in time. There is nothing below me ,but serene darkness. Above me, stars illuminate the moon and the moon, in return, warms the sky. The closest thing to me is the mountain jutting out of the darkness 500 feet away. The water lifts me and carries my soul as I feel as though I am not in my own body. I have reached the truth; pure bliss. I glide towards the large beacon of light in front of me; I hear it calling me. I keep swimming and swimming and never reach it. The houses on either side of this gentle giant move and flow with the ridges and valleys of the Grigna mountain range. All of them hug the shore line, illuminating the subtle movements Lake Como forms in the night. I feel like myself; I feel free. As though nothing could break me. There was 700 feet of depth below my vulnerable body, but the thought didn’t even cross my mind. I couldn’t be happier. It was pure, untouched, and short-lived bliss. My soul will forever be at home in this ethereal wonderland.
A satirical article on The religious people that recruit on campus
So you’re having a good day, the sun is out and the kid that always vapes and smells like cheese skipped your history class today to make the world’s largest slack line course on campus. You finish class and put in your headphones to jam out to Mariah Carey on this lovely day when all of a sudden they appear. Them. They come in all different shapes and sizes, from preaching in the middle of the UMC to smacking you in the face with a bible that seemed to appear from out of f**cking nowhere because it’s 7:30 in the morning and you don’t now what year it is. But, the ones you see before you are the most common breed, the walkers. Shit, you say to yourself. They got you a couple of weeks ago and they got Katie yesterday, now they’re back. Their kind blends so well with the environment they wear human clothes and backpacks to look like they are going to classes and smile at you a lot longer than a normal person should. Yet, by the time you realize what they are, it’s too late. “Hey, can I ask you some questions?” F**K. Should I be mean to her? No. As always you are pleasant and think that you’d rather not give her another reason to believe that your Pagan kind is going to be quite comfy in Hell. “So, do you believe in God?” You tell her you are agnostic. You always say that. You idiot, we practiced this. But whatever you practice and no matter how much you say it’ll be different next time, your whiny conscience gets a hold of you and invites you to hear the same mediocre statement you’ve had the pleasure of hearing countless times before. “You know when I first came to CU, I smoked weed and drank every weekend …” or the crowd favorite, “I was a lot like you, I didn’t really believe in God until really traumatic things happened to me….” They’re still talking and you’ve stopped listening. You wish that you had done what you had rehearsed; pretending your phone is ringing because your grandmother is on her death bed and her dying wish is to see her sweet granddaughter’s face one last time. She also requested that she die along side her cat, pizza, so now you have to sacrifice the cat. It’s elaborate, but it might be so god-awful that they will walk away and you can finally say that the war is over. But you didn’t and now you’re here listening to “the good word.” As you slowly inch away she reminds you that service is at 10:30am on Sunday in case you change your mind. You kiss your new friend good-bye as you think what you usually think, the next time they come up to you, you’ll ask them if they’ve heard the good word about Satanism. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll be the ones walking away rehearsing what they’re going to say to you and the rest of those vegetarian, smelly Pagans you approach them with.
Magic
What is magic? It is something we have always found interesting, a way of explaining things that cannot be explained.
It is the ocean.
A body of water of which more than half has not yet been explored by humans. A place people watch for hours on end, the same motion over and over again yet each motion is unique and meandered a miraculous journey to meet your feet at the shoreline.
The sound is unspoiled, never forgotten and differs slightly from one day to the next. People come from all walks of life on earth to witness this phenomenon that surrounds us and holds us in its warm, watery arms. The way it sparkles every time it meets your eyes or when it is approached it does everything in its power to engulf you and hold you in its grasp.
Oh how I miss this.
The warm welcomes, the foam finding its way in between my toes, everything. Underneath it is another world. There you are, captured, in the blue abyss.
I could stay there forever, it is where I belong.
Help! My mom’s a witch and is on trial at the Salem witch trials of 1693.
Here’s a handy guide on how to cope with your mom being the literal mistress of Satan himself and what effects it will have on you.
So your mom is gonna burn huh? Let’s start with some questions
Do you think she’s a witch?
She’s probably not and honestly she’s probably just an outspoken female person. Still not convinced? That’s fine.
Are you sure you’re not next? If you’re a girl there’s a pretty good chance that the political ”leaders” in your town think that being a crafty and sly beezlebub-ette is hereditary. So watch out for that and get ready to run. I hope you can survive in the forests of Massachusetts because, girlfriend, you literally have no other options.
There’s good news if you’re a boy though, you’re safe. Congrats. Anyway back to coping. It’s probably a good idea to destroy your allegiance to her as any sign of being loyal will earn you a one way ticket to hellfire, When she’s on trial, it’s a good idea to just go with it, just “YES AND” the whole thing. If that little bell ringer bitch from the other side of town says that he saw your sweet mother sacrificing his cat and then proceeded to rip his heart out and eat it while it was still beating, it’s wise to agree, and then beat his ass later. The point of this difficult period of your life is to try and survive which is not different than any other day considering you basically eat dirt and Live in New America.