Author Archive
MARCH 3, 2011: THE BOOK IS OUT!
It’s been out for two days! Oh my God, what are you waiting for? Go buy one right now! RUN!
Or, you know, click!
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January 21, 2011: A New Memoir by a Recently Freed Fetal Captive!
It’s not often that a person retains the memory of a previous life once they get on this side of the uterine wall, but that’s exactly what Josiah “Bucky” Warshaw was miraculously able to do. A former U. S. Marine, Brigadier General Warshaw’s iron will and extensively trained memory allowed him to retain every trace of his prenatal journey, from his unexpected passing in a Fort Bragg fast-food restaurant to his reemergence as a bouncing baby girl, currently being held living with her family at a military base somewhere in Nova Scotia. Tapping out her remembrances on a specially designed Speak & Spell at the age of fourteen months, General Warshaw continues to be a hero for our–and all–time, which is an illusory concept that doesn’t really exist, much like matter, space, and possibly Santa Claus.
Read an excerpt of Bucky’s memoir here!
January 17, 2011: BOOOoooOOOOOoooo!
You guys are not going to believe this, because you have a firm grasp on reality, but we received a ghost-submission last night! Alice was awakened in her bed-chamber by an overpowering funk of rotting magnolia blossoms, and when she pulled back the bed-curtains, she beheld none other than the ghost of Edwina Williams, Tennessee Williams’ mother. Of course she didn’t know who Edwina Williams was, which didn’t really start their relationship on the best footing. Edwina was quite put out and spent a lot of time boo-hooing into her spectral hands and stomping her spectral feet until Alice made up a story about needing her glasses to properly identify a ghost she would otherwise know in a moment. When she doesn’t even wear glasses! That’s how you humor a ghost, friends!
At any rate, once the apparition was appeased, she informed Alice that the Let’s Panic email inbox would be visited by a document that must be published, or else. “Or else what?” Alice inquired, but Edwina was too busy rattling her chains and rouging her incorporeal cheeks to reply. “It’s an excerpt from my new boooooOooooOOOOooook!” she wailed, before disappearing in a puff of smoke/talcum powder.
So here, without further ado, isĀ Why Borderline Hysteric Southern Mothers are Superior. Her title, not ours!