From a particularly thoughtful Valentine who doesn’t care if I get fat(ter). She just wants me to finish my robot apocalypse novella.
Thank you again, Kind Lady. Nomnomnomnom, smlurmf.
Update: “Nomnomnomnom, smlurmf” is actually a line from my story.
The stunning debut short film from Eric Robert Nolan.
That shadow that you see? That isn’t mine. That’s the Jungian shadow.
I actually auditioned for a role as a monster on “The Last of Us,” but I didn’t get it.
I’m disappointed. I thought I was a pretty fungi.
Caffeine-induced audacity = caffindacity.
It’s totally a real thing. Drink enough caffeine and you feel like you could take on the world.
Or have a heart attack.
Possibly both.
That awkward moment when the doctor shines that light in your inner ear, and you take your glasses off so he can better see in there.
Also … it makes me feel really old when they give me that cheery thumbs-up and say “Stay active!!” I liked it a lot better when I was a young man and they were all like, JESUS, SLOW THE F*** DOWN.
Fun fact — I actually broke those very same glasses when I got home by sitting on them. So that’s sort of an O’Henry ending for our story today.
This popped up on Twitter the other day. Behold one of the biggest pains-in-the-ass of my childhood.
As you can see from my response, we called these “hitchhikers” on my native Long Island. A lot of people from the northeast chimed in that they likewise remember the appellation.
People elsewhere know them as “travelers,” “stickers,” “bindies” and (drum roll please) “Satan’s Spurs.” That last one is truly inspired.
Meep meep.
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 