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7:40 AM: Rahm Emanuel enters Oval Office, gives Obama secret Illuminati handshake, says, “Good morning, Comrade President. The Iranian ambassador is here to discuss his scheme to undermine America’s security.” Obama says, “Show him right in.”
9:05 AM: Snack of sweetened camel milk served with dates, figs, pita and hummus. Then Iranian ambassador exits White House through secret tunnel so Fox News won’t see him.
10 AM: Editors of New York Times, Washington Post, New Yorker arrive to receive weekly instructions.
10 PM: In private quarters, Obama, Michelle are so moved watching PBS documentary on suffering of poor widows and children of al Qaeda suicide bombers, they decide to make contribution.
11 PM: Bong hits, anal sex, then sleep.
2:25 AM: Succubus enters bedroom, mounts sleeping President and has her way with him while whispering demonic instructions for next day. –“A day in the life of Obama (as envisioned by a typical Republican),” Lewis Grossberger, True/Slant
Our future looks grim. International relations are still hindered by expansionist national endeavors and a lack of mutual trust. The responsible parties are still stuck with outdated goals and standards for success and are thus unable to consider pioneering global solutions. The rulers of the world still think that the mightiest will win! But as long as might and size are what defines success, peaceful cooperation among peoples and cultures will remain a goal of the distant future. How many more wars do we need to understand that the political distinction of cultures and nations is not tenable? –“The West as a Role Model,” Reinhard Mohn, The Globalist
Reverse anti-Semitism, or why banning the iPad in Israel is a secret plot to avoid global domination;
there will be no second Dunkirk, ladies and gentlemen;
green jobs in the red, skies still blue (not really)
Dear Editors of The Conflagrated Hen,
The decision to reject The Conflagrated Hen was a carefully considered one. As you know, decisions about where to publish are quite subjective, and perhaps less about any one journal in particular than about the collection of literary magazines in which a writer hopes to see his or her work, and to have it seen by others.
Furthermore, I am currently overwhelmed by calls for submissions. For any given piece, I have at least five hundred literary journals and magazines to choose from. I wouldn’t dare submit simultaneously, so there really are very few publications that actually make the cut (in particular among those that take over two years to respond to submissions).
In the future, rather than soliciting work from seasoned writers, you might try for work from undergraduate writing workshops, whose members tend to be much less selective about where their work is published.
Eventually, someone might start paying attention to you.
Rachel Levy –“Dear Editors,” Rachel Levy, Swink
Lest we forget: they are still fighting a war on the Korean peninsula;
yes, you can bribe ADD kids, and not just with drugs!
New York is completely unfair; result: your kid is dumb
More from TedRoss:
Years ago, I lived in Montana, a land of purple sunsets, clear streams, and snowflakes the size of silver dollars drifting through the cold air. There were no speed limits and you could legally drive drunk. My small apartment in Missoula had little privacy. In order to write, I rented an off-season fishing cabin on Rock Creek, a one-room place with a bed and a bureau. I lacked the budget for a desk. My idea was to remove a sliding door from a closet in my apartment and place it over a couple of hastily cobbled-together sawhorses.
Average number of bacteria living in a pound of U.S. mud:
Canadian doctors saved a baby from drowning in his own drool by using Botox on his salivary glands.
A black bear named Pedals, famous for walking upright on his hind legs through Rockaway Township, New Jersey, was reported killed by a hunter, and a hiker in California was attacked after he interrupted two bears mating. It was a “pretty good bear attack,” said the local police chief.
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"She never thanked me, never looked at me—melted away into the miserable night, in the strangest manner I ever saw. I have seen many strange things, but not one that has left a deeper impression on my memory than the dull impassive way in which that worn-out heap of misery took that piece of money, and was lost."