A Blackheart’s Tale – Todd Brendan Fahey – Fiction

April 19, 2002

I was patently unprepared for the metamorphosis that took place just after the Christmas season, when Jurgen called me from the Ogden city lockup and asked me to post the five-hundred-dollar bond because no one in his family would.

The Night I Died – Fiction

February 22, 2002

Where’s the project? What the fuck am I gonna do? Burning up in this hell and she’s cackling like some ninny-throated witch through that wall. Cranking up that goddamned techno music.

The Album of Le Nouveau Millennium – Fiction

February 22, 2002

I have seen the future of music, and it is exemplified by one album, an album of such greatness and utter transcendence that it encompasses all of our feelings, hopes, dreams and darkest fears, and it has a good beat, and you can dance to it.

What We Wipe With – Fiction

June 1, 2001

We’ve all run out of toilet paper. It’s a product we’re embarrassed to buy in a busy grocery store despite the fact that everyone has to at some point. But this time we’re the spectacle lugging the 144-roll pack to the checkout because it saves 3 cents a roll.

Jean-Paul Bavard’s TĂȘte a Radio-tĂȘte – Fiction

June 1, 2001

The tape, oddly labeled “New Unrel. Demos,” begins with approximately 30 seconds of intensely beautiful instrumental guitar-based rock music, followed by a loud clicking noise, and then the voice of Radiohead’s Thom Yorke, beginning in mid-sentence.

The Lonelies – Part Eight – Fiction

April 1, 2001

“He gets shipped down to some psychiatric hospital down around South Portland somewhere… And then, while he’s in the hospital his mother drives down to visit and she dies in a car crash. I mean, they were never very close or anything, but she was his only family in the world.”

Jean-Paul Bavard – “Reviews” – Fiction

April 1, 2001

Along with such glamorous divas as the brilliant Sheena Twain and Lee Ann Busta Rhymes, country music supergroup Faith Hill has brought style, fashion and class to country hillbilly music.

The Lonelies – Part Seven – Fiction

September 1, 2000

“Because I was so ashamed. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was just so ashamed.” Mildred’s head was down and she was crying softly into her lap, finding it not very difficult to conjure up the tears.

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