Globalize the Enchilada “Zohran,” the voice said. It was his mother’s voice. It was always his mother’s voice. “What?” he whispered. Rama rolled away from him, muttering something. “Zohran,” his mother’s voice crooned, “the Jew is about the land. You must stop him.”...
Woman Ordered Medicine by Mail, Got a Box of Human Fingers Instead A woman in Hopkinsville, Kentucky, was waiting for a shipment of medicine and medical supplies. When it finally arrived, she ripped the box open and found that it was filled with human arms and fingers...
“Momadoobly,” Donald said. “Ma’am-haad-e,” the hair said carefully. “Mumhobby,” Donald spat out the word, like a cherry pit going for a record distance. “Who fucking cares?” USA hat hollared. “He’s a gotdamn furriner!” “Ignore him,” the hat said, “but he’s right.” “I...
“Dammit, Bolton! Stop trying to lick Jeff’s fudge stripe!”
“No senate seats in council for the dead; no scion of a time-honoured dynasty pants to rule over the inhabitants of a charnel house; the general’s hand is cold, and the soldier has his untimely grave dug in his native fields, unhonoured, though in youth.”
-Mary Shelley, The Last Man
A Glibertarians Halloween weekly treat
A self-contained and relatable Warty Hugeman adventure
A Glibertarians Halloween weekly treat
Unaussprechlichen Kulten
A Glibertarians Halloween weekly treat
Plans.
A Glibertarians Halloween weekly treat
“One is never so dangerous when one has no shame, than when one has grown too old to blush.” -Marquis de Sade
A Glibertarians Halloween weekly treat
The Nomination Process Is Nightmare From Which We Struggle To Awake
In These Uncertain Times, It’s Good To Be Flexible
The Erotic Frontiers of Mycological Exploration
The Hat and The Hair: Episode 96
That was no white-power hand signal at the Kavanaugh hearing, Zina Bash’s husband says Donald lay across this desk, tracing the cracks in the Oval Office ceiling with his finger. “Look at that one,” he said to the hat. “See, it looks like a wheel barrel.” “A...
Donald Trump Is Not Attending John McCain's Washington D.C. Funeral “Why can’t I go to the funeral?” Donald whined. He was sitting on the Presidential Shitter and watching Fox and Friends. “John didn’t want you at the funeral,” the hair said. “Why not?” Donald...
Slip Into Silent Slumber
“Omarosa, my sweet dark berry…” Donald whispered. “She recorded you, Donald,” the hat said in a low Iago hiss. “Maybe she just wanted to hear my voice again,” Donald said. “Recorded, Donald, like with a machine,” the hat said. “She tried to Nixon you, bro.”...
, with special blame falling on mexican sharpshooter
μηδὲν ἄγαν
Tonight We’re Gonna Party Like It’s Nine-Teen-Nine-Ty-Eight!