A webbed suspension. A stinging. A stunning. It’s stunning. I’m stunned and stung. It’s possible I’ve been infected.
Ok, imagine a world with men of indeterminate ethnicity. Easy enough, right? Now, imagine these men are not made of flesh – like you and I are – but are mere veneers, flexible shells. Inside, thousands of spiders. Inside, these intelligent, mutant spiders control men. They are out to control the world. Or, to help the world. Or, at least, to prevent the wasps from taking over. No, not WASPs, but literally, wasps. From South America.
June 21st, 2011 / 10:40 am
Today’s some made-up holiday, which means places are closed, so to celebrate, here‘s a new story by Nick Mamatas. It’s a weird little ditty with lols a-plenty, I mean, if you like that kind of stuff, laughing, I mean, out loud.
And here, Johannes Goransson says a metaphor to explain his vision of an ideal poem is an “infestation of language.” I like that.
And here, Michael Kimball says he likes pizza and ice cream. I like pizza and ice cream too.
And, just for holiday kicks, she got married yesterday, and seriously, the big story is about her dress.
And that’s all I have to say.