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Story: Last Night
There’s a little bridge over a little brook surrounded by trees, next to my dad’s apartment. The smallest possible but most convincing piece of nature, at the center of a grove of brutalist concrete buildings.
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Story: I Froze Up
In which our hero doesn’t meet a girl.
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Story: The Bloated Curmudgeon
One night I decided to sit in the rain and wait for death, but the fat bastard wouldn’t let me.
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Story: Brandi
Brandi. Spelled like that, I’m pretty sure. I remember talking to her on MySpace. She was into the same bands as me, and she was skinny, and she thought I was smart. That was my type when I was 20.
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Story: Crazy Eddie
In which our hero robs a convenience store.
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Story: My Introduction to Boobies
The first time I saw a boob in person I was twelve. The girl was fourteen or fifteen, and her boobs were probably bigger than my head. I had been trying to get her to take her shirt off for months, and one day I came up with the plan that got the job done.
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Story: The Game Master
This was a pretty typical, hot afternoon in the summer. The only reason it sticks in my memory is because it’s the day I met The Game Master.
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Story: Thank Heaven for Pastor Joe
Say what you will about a man of the cloth with his hand in a little boy’s pants, but in this instance it seems to have worked out for the better.
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Story: Tiger Power Pistol
My dad got me a sickass water pistol. It’s one of my earlier and most vivid memories to this day, because I was so impressed with the thing I lost my goddamn mind. This wasn’t some chump’s plastic squirt gun, but a powerful, motorized weapon…
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Story: Halloween Baby
I don’t have a memory of being born, which is probably not surprising. What’s surprising is that I THINK I do remember it, even if I know that has to be wrong.