Truckin' August 2010: Late Summer Edition in the Year we make contact

It’s about that time of the month again! And I’m not some emo LSD chick raving haphazardly about her menstrual cycle, no! Not at all! I’m a man. The Alpha Male. It’s what I told my girlfriend Lady C the other week; "I’m the alpha male, baby." and she did not object. Instead she wrote down what improvements she would expect from a Beta version..

This month I’m sharing a musing on an old tale from the bowels of the metropolitan region, a near legendary story unknown to the most of you. Or anyone else than me and Kornelius, for that matter. As far as I recall, this all happened back in 2004 when we stopped by a bar called Connections.. But that’s enough coffee for me. Here’s what author of doctor writes:

The August issue is right on the heels of the delayed July issue. August includes contributions from three vets: Sigge, Johnny Hughes, and May B. Yesno. That power trio anchors this issue which also marks the debut of Mark Verve. Oh, and I penned a tale about insobriety in the City of Angels, while Tenzin McGrupp makes a cameo this month with a throwback story from the early 2000s.

The Truckin’ scribes write for the love of writing, which is a fancy way of saying that they share their blood work for free. I encourage you to spread the word about your favorite stories. The writers, myself included, certainly appreciate your assistance. Good karma will be coming your way for any help you can provide.


Invisible by
I’m about six to seven inches off the ground with each bouncy step. That’s the best way to describe the feeling, like the astronauts doing the slo-mo kangaroo hop on the moon. Floating. Bouncing. Sedated. Happily sedated, I should add. Demons quelled. Anxieties locked away…

Of New Cars by May B. Yesno
The problem, from his view point in his new office, was the distances he once considered large and satisfying were now mean and narrow. He felt he had to expand those horizons…

Connections by Sigg3
Smoking indoors was not allowed… rather, it was encouraged. Nobody had ever bothered to change the wallpaper or interior decorations since the first tenant set up trap decades ago. You could feel the horribly clouded history by placing your hand on the scarred wood that had cigarette burns and scratches from fingernails, broken glass and knives…

Russian Spies by
In the Army we did a atomic bomb drill. We put on our plastic, rain ponchos. The Sergeant said to sit on the ground and cover your head with the poncho. Then he said, "Now kiss your ass goodbye."…

A Troll’s Life by Mark Verve
Look for the hottest girl in the place that’s crying. Approach and ask if there’s anything you can do to help. Use sympathy and understanding. You’re going to have to do some listening…

Bryant Park by
A suit on a cell phone almost ran over a group of trust fund yentas with freshly painted manicured toes, the unoriginal ones carrying Gucci handbags with tiny yapping poodles given French sounding names by their malcontent owners…

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