Truckin' September 2008, Vol. 7, Issue 9: Six-pack o' stories

New month, new people, new experiences and new campfire tales! writes:

Thanks again to everyone for wasting your precious time with Truckin’. This issue marks the debut of two new writers, Dan England and Rob Logan. And, several of your favorite writers are back such as Sigge from Norway, Nick Cantwell from the UK, and Bob Respert from… ummm, I have no idea what planet Bobby is from. I also penned something about existentialism that did not involve a stripper.

And this time he didn’t forget me! This means that part three of my Oslonian nights trilogy is ready, namely: One Night Out Part III: 120 Minutes in Sodom. So tune down the lights, pull out your favourite jar of pickles and a chair, and get those kids out of my lawn! ‘Cuz it’s story time, baby. To recap, here are the other two parts in order of appearance, the third’s further down:

ONO Part III: Odd Nerdrum
"Is that a genuine Nerdrum?" I pointed to the painting above the sofa.
"Yes, it sure is! And we’ve got the self-portrait in the bedroom. Care to see it?"
"Oh thanks. But no thanks."

ONO Part III: Chameleon 1
"Come!" he demanded and stood up. "You haven’t met my chameleon!"

ONO Part III: Chameleon 2
"He staring at the roof?" It had parked itself in a vertical position.
"Sleeping. They always sleep like that."

ONO Part III: Stingray
We turned around and, hidden from the entrance was a giant fish tank with something akin to an alien facehugger sucking on the clear glass.
"It’s a sting ray. We just call it Raymond."
"No shit. Same as killed Steve Irwin?"


Feline Existentialism by
You’re only one step away from nothingness. Your mere existence is utterly meaningless. What has more value? The zit on the ass cheek of Bono, or a religious missionary that has been burned alive by tribal elders? …

A Different God by
The slow walk along the dusty path was always a time for reflection. Reflection on his life, his family and his standing. But as ever, his thoughts turned to his loss. His daughter had only been nine when the disease had taken her. And since that day, he had walked the same path three or four times a day. Asking questions. And hoping to receive answers…

One Night Out Part III: 120 Minutes in Sodom by Sigg3
A show came on and six little dancers brushed past us from the dressing room. Barely legal naked nymphs with eyes too predatory for my liking. Reptile folk with nice legs, ripe breasts and hands long into your pockets. The moment our over-priced beer arrived, in slender glasses akin to lab equipment, my phone rang…

Fatty McLiarson by
Emily and I had been talking for quite some time over an instant messenger on the computer. Her in ski-country and me in the suck-belt. Ugh, the Midwest. What a fucking dump. Nice job basing almost your entire future existence on the American factory worker and his union. Well played, Midwest. I can see the abandoned factories now…

Journey of 35,000 Miles Began with One Bong Hit by
I was surrounded by a room full of strangers who shared in my pathetic tales of a failed marriage, while enthralling me with their own stories of bad relationships and piss poor decisions. It was an instant camaraderie that connected us on the most basic of human levels. For once in my sad excuse for a life, I felt like I belonged…

The Long, Last Walk on the Edge by Dan England
The ridge looked like the back of a stegosaurus. It was long and thin, yet it also had many long, technical towers about three times our size that we would have to climb over. And once we got on the ridge, there was no getting off. No wonder many climbers considered it the toughest ridge in all of Colorado…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.