We're experience some mild turbulence. Please stay in your seats and remain calm.

A fake news story: something the internet has never seen before.

Another Tiger Magazine bit. Perhaps one day I shall adapt to the constant action-packed thrill of this double life.

By request.

A few maxims.

The end is nigh.

I am not a happy camper.

The world of tomorrow, mocked today.

I'm a literary mercenary. Writing on the edge, living by my own rules. And my editors'.

A glimpse into the mind of a sleep-deprived humorist.

This is what I find inspiring. I may have issues.

Everything you never wanted to know about the world of tomorrow.

There's something wrong with you people.

Moonlighting for The Princeton Tiger.

Tommorow is a stranger day.

I'm taking a break from the usual to spit on Charlotte Bronte's grave.

A vignette.

You've reached God. Please leave a message after the beep.

Future imperfect.

After resolving the last batch of lawsuits, Hypercorp returns.

A journal of my time as a snarker in a strange land.

I talk to all the right people all the wrong ways.

What would you do without my keen insight? Other than sleep comfortably, of course. That's a given.

How can I pass up a chance to make fun of Stephen King?

The day I get tired of this bit is the day I get tired of life.

Where I've been and what's ahead.

An indispensible guide on being the worst person you can be.

My final contribution to my school paper.

Filler is a nutritious part of every well balanced meal.

Despite the efforts of the Better Business Bureau, Hypercorp lives on.

My favorite prophetic filler returns.

The premier of Studies in Failure, a podcast for people that hate podcasts.

A heartwarming Christmas tale.

Dr. 9/11 makes his return with the greatest poetry the world has never seen.

I went to an anime-dominated convention. I'd say it was three parts fun and one part permanent scarring.

Another batch of perfectly accurate predictions of the future (as seen through a cheap snowglobe).

A legitimate look into the legitimate products of the world's most legitimate company.
Mostly a ressurection of a comedic concept I wasted on the NG forums in the past.

It's the story of Jesus's iconic death, with some extra blasphemy thrown in for flavor.

The future, according to our own paranoid schizophrenic. Remember, Monkeys with Typerwriters visions are twenty percent less apocalyptic than the competition!