Do you have trouble biting into steamy cheeseburgers or slicing through tender, succulent steaks with a clear conscience? Can you not hear the sweet sizzle of sirloin shish kabobs without hearing the blood-curdling shrieks of innocent, cuddly little cows? This problem may soon be a distant memory.

He couldn’t remember how long it had been. Time seemed fuzzy lately. There were bills piled high across the desk. He couldn’t, or wouldn’t, get too close. They were bills and that was all he needed to know about them. But where was the check? It had to be here by now. It seemed like he’d been waiting forever.
Meg was crying in the other room. It probably wasn’t anything too traumatic. Meg cried a lot. Usually it was because she didn’t like to go to bed when she was supposed to. She would ball up her little fists and shake them in a cute, innocent mockery of her mother.

Take heed, good and god-fearing people, for Satan is upon us from the bowels of the deepest regions of Hell. He shall rise up from number four Privot Drive, riding a flaming Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick. He will scour the Earth, destroying all who oppose him with furious vengeance and anger, casting spells of evil and driving our children into the dark artistry of witchcraft! His name is Harry Potter, and he is coming to eat your soul! All hail Harry Potter! This is what Bible Thumpers and Jesus Freaks of the world would like you to believe.

I had myself one helluva weird ass dream last night. I was the leader of a crack commando force. My mission was to guide an elite group of highly-trained soldiers over 12 extremely inhospitable terrain miles behind enemy lines, by whatever means necessary. Every man was a volunteer and the best at what he did. We parachuted in, moved on stealth patrols through the teeming jungle without a word or stray noise; crossing angry rivers and numerous minefields into the heart of enemy territory.

Today, at my job, I am trying to do as little as possible. I’m hoping that the “big wigs” will decide that they don’t really need me, and will lay me off instead of having me quit. They’ve started another set of layoffs today. People in the office are walking from cubicle to cubicle, trying to get the latest rumors of where the company’s going and who’s computer and phone were just taken away. We all know that it isn’t going to last much longer.

Two weeks ago my ladyfriend and I parted ways after nearly five years together. Needless to say this has been the most valuable relationship in my life thus far. A great emotional cannon has been produced and only I am left to bare witness to the innumerable heartfelt gestures, gentle touches and kind words we shared. Somewhere along the way we parted, but so shall my journey be. This past week a series of events took place that reaffirmed my belief in kinetic physics.

There is a fat, annoying girl in my class. I make fun of her openly to dull the tinny echo her voice leaves in my ears. I sit there as she spews her incessant babble of bullshit that not one person gives a shit about, and I come to a conclusion: this bitch is getting more play than I am. What the fuck? I wear the continually frustrated face of a born-again virgin. It has been centuries since I have tasted lips and tongue and sweat. I am imprisoned in a past that I cannot escape and all that I want to do is fuck.

Later that day he told a dirty joke in the elevator, surprising not only his comrades, but also himself. He left the elevator in a daze and couldn't help feeling a bit proud.
"Good one, Melve," said George from across the room.
Melve. Someone had called him Melve. The tears began to push against his eye-lids.

“It’s a unique place to experience and buy artwork. We just try to put work in that we like, and keep people engaged.”