Okay, you’ve asked for it. If you've visited this page before, there's no reason for you to be here again, but you probably noticed that most of the stories are gone. That's because they were stupid. So here's the stuff that's almost intelligible. And, if you’ve found that this does prove not stimulating enough for you, try my bad poetry.

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She sighed as she tore another paper towel from the ever thinning roll on the counter. She had not realised that there would be so much blood. Well, I suppose that’s what happens when you stab someone 27 times. She laughed bitterly. She continued mopping up the life-blood with which she herself had painted the kitchen tiles. She hoped that she had used the right knife- she knew they always kept kosher. She sat back and tossed the paper towel into the awaiting trash can. Another 3 points. She applauded herself. She suddenly realised that she had left the television on in the den. She hears the opening strains of the Wheel of Fortune theme song floating through the air. She bared her teeth in an eager grin. She loved Wheel of Fortune. It always made her feel smart because she could solve the puzzles before the contestants. Not like that Jeopardy show. She never knew any of that stuff- who needed to? Those people had no lives, she decided as she stood up and stretched out the cramps in her legs. She hopped over his lifeless body and traipsed into the den. She sat Indian style on the plush rug in front of the TV. She solved the first puzzle halfway through (it was “Caribbean cruise”) and waited for the people on TV to catch up. But they took too long- she was impatient. They were stupid. How dare people think her dumb when there were morons like this on national television. She had dreamed of being on TV, on Wheel of Fortune. She flopped on the couch, rested her head on her arms, and remembered her dreams. They would go far, far away, to a little island where the sun never stopped shining. They would be alone and wealthy. They would have each other and lots of money. She would have everything she ever wanted. She had begun making the plans. She had almost bought the plane tickets. And now this. It was all ruined now. And it was all his fault- the filthy liar. No, he had not lied to her. She headed back to the kitchen and stood in a pool of his blood. He had lied to his wife. He had told his wife that she didn’t exist. Didn’t exist!! She splashed in the red fluid. Didn’t exist!! Could a figment of someone’s imagination have done this? She kicked the corpse, splattering her own dress with sanguine spots. She glanced into the dining room, at the roses she had placed amidst the lit candles and glasses of champagne. There would be more than enough food for the three of them. She looked back down at her feet. Abruptly she realised that a drained carcass may not exactly add a pleasant effect to the evening. In fact, she thought, it might be downright unappetizing. Dejectedly she tore off another towel and returned to her hands and knees. The telephone rang, but she made no move to answer it. She listened as the machine picked it up. It was his wife. His wife was leaving work and would pick up the dog on the way home. Suddenly, she realised that there would only be two for dinner. She balled up the dripping paper towel and walked to the trash can. She dropped it in. Slam dunk- two points.

Home Woah nellie! This is deep! Take me home.

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“I don’t know,” he said. “I really don’t. But, then again, what difference does it make? So what, I don’t know. Big deal. And if I did know? Well, I just suppose I would have gained that much more insight into something. It wouldn’t make any difference to anyone but me. But me only because I’d know that I knew that much more about something that I don’t care about. I will have learned a small bit of arcane knowledge that I will never apply to anything. So, like I said, it just doesn’t matter.”
”But don’t you want to know? Aren’t you even the slightest bit curious?” She tapped her pencil against her bleached front teeth.
”Well, no. It doesn’t concern me in the least, and I’m not exactly losing any sleep over it.” He leaned back in his chair and let a sly grin creep across his face. He enjoyed knowing that he was frustrating her, not giving her the satisfaction that she desperately sought.
“I would think that your curiosity would be piqued, if just a little.” She sounded as if searching for a justification of his indifference. She sighed, an audible sign of her discontent. “Tell me this. Is there a reason that you don’t want to know or don’t care? Are you afraid of knowing the truth? Does reality intimidate you?”
His humourless laugh went unnoticed. He knew what she was up to. He was well aware that she was trying to anger him, make him lose his cool. She wanted him to get upset, to act irrationally and say something that he didn’t want her to hear. He knew the game well enough.
“See, Doc, my brain isn’t as big as yours. I’ll concede that I’m scared. I’m terrified that, if I were to learn this one pointless fact, there wouldn’t be any room left for anything of considerable significance. I’m afraid that my pathetic brain may be incapable of harbouring so much knowledge, so I figure that I’d better leave as much room as possible for all of the really important stuff I’m going to want to remember later. Like tying my shoes and wearing underwear.”
Her face gave no indication as to what she was thinking. He knew that it was because she didn’t know what she was thinking. He had thrown her a curve ball- the answer was not what she had expected. She was confused. Was there a deeper meaning to his answer? Was he trying to be cryptic If so, how? And why? She could read nothing in his response. Wore yet, she didn’t know where to go from here, what line of questioning to pursue. He had backed her into a corner, and she know that he knew it. That made her uneasy. She searched desperately for some, any, means of escape.
Finally, she picked up her yellow legal pad and stood up. “It was a pleasure, as always.” She left the room.
Alone at last, he laughed. He had won, for today. He was giddy with the thought of victory. But he could not rest on his laurels yet. No, not quite yet. She would be back again. And again. For the time being, however, he was content with focusing on tomorrow. He could not rest yet. His mind was already formulating strategies as he lit a cigarette. He would win. He knew it. And he knew she knew it. And she did.

Home I can't take it any more!

© 2000 Insert brutal honesty here..
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