Author: Lee Blevins

A Short Noir Story The dame walked in like she was the opening line of a private detective story. She had exposition up to her eyeballs. “You must be the detective,” she said. “And you must be a pretty good detective yourself,” I replied. “To put it all together on your lonesome. I only got my name on the door, a hat on my head, and a gat in my hand.” “Please stop waving that thing around.” “Excuse me,” I said and put the pistol back in the desk drawer. I decided to wave my trademark smart alec attitude around…

Mike Funk – Mike Fink wrestled alligators, but Mike Funk just wrestled with his emotions in public. Johnny Torrentseed – Like Johnny Appleseed before him, the quasi-eponymous things he spread did have the occasional worm in them. Annie Cokely – Annie Oakley was the best shot in the west, but Annie Cokely was the worst shot in the dive bar bathroom. People paid money to see Annie Oakley shoot, but people only wished there was some way to unsee what Annie Cokely did in there. John Hungry – John Henry pushed himself too far at the Big Bend Tunnel. John…

My car broke down on the side of the road, and I do not have the money to get it fixed, so I think I have to go live in these woods now. I don’t have AAA, but I do have a cheap tent in my trunk and most of a can of Mountain Dew left so I should be able to make a go of it. I’m pretty sure these woods are part of the Daniel Boone National Forest. And if they’re not, then I hereby claim it for him. He did the same to the Shawnee, after all.…

Don’t worry, nosy stranger, there’s nothing that unusual about our harvest festival. All across the world, there are harvest festivals much like this one – in hamlets, villages, towns, cities and midterm elections. Sure, we have our idiosyncrasies, but what town doesn’t? We just have a healthy respect for the old ways. The Old One ways. Yeah, we only have one-way streets here. Helps with traffic and crop yields. How else do you think Old Man Phillips could grow that two-headed pumpkin? You like my mask? You’re not just saying that? You’re sweet. Actually, I was a bit disappointed I…

Air Mattress Pump: Toss into a nearby occupied room and roleplay a biological terror attack. Ashtray (But You Quit Smoking): Scooby Doo-style secret passage? Turn for adventure. Bachelor of Fine Arts: I wish I could help you with that one. Comb: Ladybug crucifixion hill. *for pre-teen psychopaths only Dreamcatcher: Mail it to the White House. They need all the help they can get. Expired Condom: Sneeze guard. 99% effective. Floss: An excellent wig for Japanese ghost girls. Guitar Pick: Something to keep behind your ear that won’t fall apart when you start to sweat under police interrogation. Half a Twister…

Step 1: Those short-sleeved faux-flannel shirts with the poppable buttons. Acquire several. Step 2: Skim read Alan Lomax’s Wikipedia article. Step 3: Find an old-time music jam sesh at a coffee shop in a gentrified neighborhood and chainsmoke American Best outside. Step 4: Love, bed and leave at least three women who wear braided ponytails and use Mooncups. Step 5: Pretend to shop at the local farmer’s market. Maybe buy some blueberries if you get a hankering. Step 6: Take a hike. Or, more precisely, hide in the bushes near the end of a trail until dusk, and then come…

Are you a neckbeard? Of course you’re not. But you might know one. Does he want to change his lifestyle? Of course he doesn’t. But he might know someone who does. Tell that guy that that guy you know knows about Neckbeards Anonymous, a support group for men who know they should know better. We have weekly meetings where we discuss our issues, our setbacks, and our sexually progressive success stories. Informal, nurturing, buddy buddy. Most support groups have a twelve-step program. But we needed one more step to make up for the way we acted in our gen-ed Gender…