Since 1776, every heir in the Dumfus dynasty shares the same name—and the same birthday—when an IRS auditor finally investigates, he uncovers America’s strangest tax loophole… and a family determined to protect it.
By brewing coffee at home instead of buying daily Starbucks lattes, I heroically save thousands per year, protect our financial sovereignty, and transform each humble 22-cent cup into a steaming monument to compound interest and marital devotion.
Now I mostly supervise. And fart. I live with a human named Sam. Sam’s a good egg. Scratches behind the ears. Keeps my bowl full. Doesn’t complain when I drool on his bootleg mattress. He used to laugh a lot. But then came the day he sold his eyes and his heart. You’re wondering how a man does that.
Vegas card mechanic, Tony LaMarca, reads the wireless signals from pacemakers and glucose monitors to decode players’ emotions—until an elderly “mark” with a fake implant exposes Tony as part of a federal sting, forcing the “advantage player” into a high-stakes moral showdown.
When burglars target a paranoid retiree’s condo, they trigger a ludicrous gauntlet of DIY defenses—knife-wielding robots, sarcastic security systems, and a moat of kombucha. Think Home Alone meets Dr. Strangelove. Hysterical. Explosive. HOA-approved (barely). You’ll die laughing—legally.
This essay explores where our soul might reside — head, gut, or somewhere in the Cloud. It follows the author’s plan to catch souls with a badminton racket, clone bodies, and reinsert spirits via USB. It’s metaphysical, mildly scientific, and completely ridiculous.
Shoplifters and rogue employees may steal shampoo and twenty-dollar bills, but the real heist happens in boardrooms. This eye-opening exposé reveals how executives at Walmart, Amazon, and even the U.S. Postal Service legally siphon billions—gutting pensions, crushing labor, and cashing out stock—while blaming the little guy. Cufflinks over shoplifters, every time.
A rogue roofer punches a banana-sized hole during a rainstorm, turning Jaron’s den into a swimming pool. With tar, sarcasm, and power tools, Jaron battles leaks, biblical floods, and incompetent contractors—then threatens to launch the next intruder off the roof. Roofing drama meets divine comedy.
Want to fly first class on a coach budget? Bribe with chocolates, wield a cane like Gandalf, fake an anniversary, and act like a retired flight attendant. Toss in charm and frozen water. Boom—luxury travel without the Amex bill.
American women rule kitchens, backyards, and life’s “adult playgrounds.” They outlive men, inherit everything, and turn homes into empires. Forget skyscrapers—women hold the cultural foundation with wit, resilience, and perfectly fluffed throw pillows. Game over!
I gave the executive (who I owe a producing credit to) twenty bucks to convince his boss, a boss in the slammer for cavorting with kids, that my novel would make a terrific film.
I am sending Rex to Russia to conclude my latest deal. I just sold Putin and his pals some worthless land we bought from them in 1867. I doubled our original purchase price. This is a TERRIFIC DEAL. DT
We charge a nominal $20 overdraft fee (plus interest). The unpaid interest on the dollar is 18 percent. This means that we must wait a full four years to double our money.
If you’re thinking of writing a screenplay or worse, carving out a career as a full-time screenwriter, you’re going to need an arrow pounder.
Never heard “arrow pounder” amid such notions as “plot points” and “character arcs,” have you? Trust me every screenwriter needs an arrow pounder.
