An iridescent flash invaded my senses, jolting me out of my daydream. I looked up from my flask, bleary-eyed in the dull early morning light.
It took a few moments to register that the perch directly in front of me was occupied. There, in all its shimmering glory, was my quarry — the kingfisher.
After convincing myself that this wasn’t a mirage induced by lack of sleep and several hours staring into an empty pool, I swung my lens around and fired off several shots.
I stole a glance at my display. Maybe a touch dark, but not unsalvageable. …
With the current state of the world, more and more people are deciding to ditch the day-to-day drudgery and live a life of Instagram-worthy wanderlust.
That’s where the #vanlife movement comes in. I didn’t read these posts, but the hashtag seemed to be very popular, and I could see why.
Bye-bye cubical farm; hello open road. No two days alike. Sleeping under the stars. Pooping in parking lots. It all seemed very romantic.
Well, I lived as a van for a month and it was shit. Here are the main reasons the Van Life movement sucks.
It’s not just that…
You’ve probably read the ‘curation is dead’ type articles.
Personally, I can’t argue. My two highest-earning stories weren’t curated, and I’ve never made more than about $10 from distributed articles.
I spend a long time writing short humor pieces, where the funniest joke is my stats, so maybe I’m not the best example. But we all know distribution has been nerfed. Throwing around curations like confetti will inevitably devalue it — if everyone is special, no one is special.
A recent study conducted by dolphin scientists has cast doubt upon humanity’s status as “most intelligent mammal.”
Over a three-month period, 50 humans and 50 dolphins squared off in a series of challenges, under the watchful gaze of dolphins in lab coats with clipboards.
The first challenge was that of language. First, the dolphins had a conversation with each other. Every single dolphin understood what had been said, though some disputed the notion that mackerel was the best fish.
Next, the dolphins attempted to talk to the humans. Not a single human understood the conversation or weighed in with their…
The lawn was full of crows.
Not just crows, but magpies, jackdaws, and even a solitary Eurasian jay — the sole splash of color in this goth gathering.
Seeing a single crow is supposedly an ill omen. Seeing two is thought to bring good luck. The plot thickens when more than two enter the frame, should you believe One for Sorrow:
One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret,
Never to be told.
I’m not sure what seeing 20 of them means — probably…
Hi, I’m Lady Macbeth.
As a homicidal schemer, I spend a lot of time covered in bodily fluids — and I know how hard it can be to rid one’s hands of impurities, real or imagined.
In these trying times, with invisible assailants floating through the air and settling on surfaces, you need a product that will keep you safe and sane.
I used to think that a little water would wash away viruses, blood, or my sins. But over time, I’ve realized that more drastic measures are needed to maintain my tenuous grip on reality.
That’s why I choose…
Are you sick of headlines that overpromise and underdeliver? Me too.
Worry not, because I don’t even know the meaning of the word hyperbole. No, seriously — is it a type of pasta?
In any case, my headline is completely true and I came with the receipts to prove it.
Once upon a time, a young boy named Zebedee Robbins was playing on the beach near his home in California.
He was daydreaming and idly nudging a discarded plastic bottle with his foot when he saw a curious creature writhing in the shallows. Was it a seal or a dolphin? It was hard to tell with all the fishing line wrapped around its body.
Was the creature beckoning him, or merely in its death throes? Zebedee wasn’t sure, but he was intrigued and followed the Sealphin further into the ocean.
Just as he caught up with the creature, a vortex…
As an accomplished, successful writer, I —
Hey! I hadn’t got to the joke yet.
As I was saying — as an accomplished, successful writer, I’m always looking for ways to take my humor pieces to the next level.
Sure, I could put in countless hours of practice, read hundreds of books, or study masters of the craft, but that sounds kinda boooooring.
Well, just yesterday I wandered around the house towards the glass patio door. And that’s when it hit me.
While nursing my broken nose, I recalled my eureka…