I had totally forgotten a title until after I published. Whelp!

It started off as an otherwise peaceful night. I was sound asleep on a normal Friday evening. Why I awoke I’ll never know but I felt a strong need to get some water.

Meandering my way to the living room the unusually clear sky caught my attention. Nothing stood out at first. Could almost see some stars through the light pollution of the city and there was a half moon. All of a sudden a shooting star flew across the sky. Or . . . I thought it was a shooting star but it struck the earth nearby with a bright flash? That’s not how stars work right? I couldn’t believe my eyes and it bothered me.

After thinking about it for a few I decided to investigate. Carefully getting dressed and leaving without waking my fiancée I snuck out of the apartment, flashlight in hand. It was oddly easy to find the spot. It was even more odd that I was the only one there what with all the glowing and all.

The source of the glowing was in the middle of a small pond. I got down on my hands and needs. Shining my flashlight into the water a fish the size of an adult trout swam over to me. Something was off though. Was that . . . Was that a hand? Like a human hand? On a fish?

The fish quizzically looked me over for a minute. Then it took its hand and . . . Formed an ‘L’ shape with its finger and thumb in the middle of its forehead. Its mouth opened as it began to vocalize:

HEY NOW, YOU’RE A RO . . . ”

I learned two things as a result of that moment.

1: I’m surprisingly good at beating a fish over the head with my walking stick.
2: Mystical singing space fish is surprisingly delicious.


“Draw me like one of your jilted lovers.”
“Uh, I only do pixel art and I ain’t that great to be honest.”
“Did I fucking stutter?”
“Well, okay. But this is still an odd thing to be asked of by an insect or whatever you are.”


Have you ever been so tired that you were too scared to fall asleep?

The sense of paranoia that happens when you reach a certain level of over-tired is pretty scary at the time (while it occures), although it can be amusing after the fact. That fear of never waking up doesn’t happen any other time. Well, maybe after a day of eating donair(s) and pizza(s) as is absolutely necessary from time to time.

I’m severely disappointed by the lack of hallucinations that happen when I’m this tired. Actually I’m quite thankful because the mere concept of hallucinations is something that I’m afraid of, but on the other hand I figure such a thing would make for some interesting writing material y’know? Maybe I should go back to abusing NeoCitran.

Oh man, that stuff was awesome! One time had this dream that hot dog wieners became illegal somehow and on the way to school (I would’ve been 16 or 17 at the time) I walked by an alleyway where a sketchy guy was dealing illicit hot dogs cooked on a secret barbeque. Then the next night I had this other dream where the police busted some kid’s birthday because his parents were serving hot dogs. It was hardcore. They were driving their police cars through the lawn table things and everything. Man, had I kept that up I could’ve written some sort of novel . . .

But no . . . Instead here I am just debating on if I should go to bed three hours early tonight or not. Lame.

Tales of the office.‏

I looked up and the ceiling began to ooze high-fructose corn syrup. That’s when I knew that day wasn’t going to end well.

Not a good starting point you say? Fine.

So I woke up that morning as I often tend to do. I hadn’t turned off my special alarm clock in time so it became a ghost and chased me awake. I went through my usual routine of eating, shaving and doing my best to shower without getting any water on me.

Something was feeling a little off. Like I was being followed and/or watched. Chalking it up to not getting enough sleep I went on my merry way to work. I even walked to work that morning. Although it cheered me up a bit I still had that feeling. Still, work’s gotta get done. I went to my cubicle and sat down as normal.

My phone rang. I answered it and all I could hear is the sound of something sticky being squished. I figured it was just a bad connection and hung up. The rest of the morning and most of the afternoon went with no further incident.

But then I heard it. That same sound from the phone earlier. But it wasn’t coming through any sort of audio device this time however. I looked up and the ceiling began to ooze high-fructose corn syrup. That’s when I knew that day wasn’t going to end well. I also had a feeling of redundancy but for the life of me I couldn’t put a finger on the cause.

Then the ceiling tile gave way causing me to black out as it stuck me directly in the head. When I came to my face was mere inches away from where the ceiling tile used to be and I could barely move my arms. As I finished coming to I managed to look down a bit. Oh my sweet fuck.

When I was unconscious my body had absorbed the corn syrup through osmosis and I had swelled to the size of an elephant but with a physique that resembled something akin to the ‘Pusheen cat’. My first thought was that of concern. I’m not on the ground floor and I didn’t want to hurt/kill anybody.

Somehow the floor held well enough for me to roll through the large window. Why am I always flinging myself out of the window? How many times have they replaced the damn thing already? Thankfully the street below was empty. I had been blacked out for what must have been ten-ish hours since it was now clearly after midnight.

As predicted I fell right through the ground. I had plummeted through several hundred yards of earth until I fell into a large cavern. A large stalagmite had pierced my stomach, but for some reason I did not feel any pain. So I just kind of laid there on my stomach completely immobilized.

A scene played out in front of me that I just could not believe. The corn syrup had left my body, shrinking me back down to my normal size. The wound from the stalagmite had apparently been all in the excess fat so it was gone when the syrup had left. I stood beside the 7 foot-tall hunk of limestone, resting against it with one arm to steady myself as I became accustomed to having legs again.

The corn syrup had formed into a humanoid creature devoid of any gender-specific attributes that was of roughly my height and average build. The creature walked up and gently embraced me. I felt . . . Safe somehow. Its grip tightened and the next thing I knew we were flying up through the hole. We continued to fly straight upwards. I held my breath early on as we continued to climb.

The air began to thin but before letting out my breath became a worry we stopped for a few seconds before flipping upside down. We hurled toward the ground in a location I wasn’t familiar with. We flew towards the ground at an increasing rate of speed. I feared for my life. But just before we hit the ground the creature performed a graceful arc. Turning back around I was gently placed back on the ground feet first on a stretch of highway somewhere in the middle of rural Nova Scotia. The creature yelled “PSYCH!” and then giggled hysterically while running off leaving me lost and confused . . .

. . . Wait, what?