Sally Forth

Hey, remember The Fourth of July, 2003? We don't, but found this in our archives:

Fourth of July Fourthiness.

Independence is on the march, patriots.

& Recently . . .

Kurt Cobain's Ghost with an Invitation to a Fourth of July Picnic and Fireworks by Angela Genusa

"B.L.T.": A Review by Will Layman

Ten Tiny Poems by Brian Beatty

Angry Words from a Gnome Who to This Day Continues to Think the Human Genome Project Was Actually The Human Gnome Project by David Ng

Key Party, N.Y.C., Circa Always by William K. Burnette

A Day on the Phone with Mythological Norse Firewarrior, Bringer of Storms by Aaron Belz

Polish Fact

Zloty Exchange Rate:

1 USD = 3.95 PLN
1 Euro = 4.67 PLN

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Friday, October 31, 2003   |    Fiction

The Bone-Chilling, Spine-Tingling, Hair-Raising, Bloodcurdling Hallowe'en House of Horror

It’s the Great Pumpkin-Patch Farmer, Charlie Brown!

Jesus H. Christ, those pesterin’ little freak chil’en are crawlin’ ’round in my punkin patch ag’in. Ain’t a Hallowe’en goes by, they’s ain’t rootin’ ’round my punkins lookin’ fors a ghost or sumpin’.

Sheeit, that grotesque little bald feller’s got the biggest durn skull in tarnation. Is he sick or sumpin’? Is he dying? His noggin’s bigger’n a haystack. And that dog of his gives me the willies. It’s like the dang dog can think. One time, I reckon I seen the durn mutt sittin’ atop his doghouse, typin’ on a typey-writer machine.

And wouldja lookit that one extra-filthy little varmint? He’s so dirty he got himself his own dust devil. Aw, no, jeez, there goes that little bossy loudmouthed gal, always a-hootin’ and a-hollerin’ with her panties in a twist. Only thing ever quiets her down is when that little fairy starts playin’ his pian-ey. What a little Liberace pansy.

And I really don’t none like it too much the way them two girlie-girls are all kissy-kissy with each other. That little nerdy gal with the glasses always followin’ ’round that hippie tomboy. It’s just unnatural, y’ask me.

The only reason I don’t put on a gorill-ey mask and spook the shit out of them kids is because I don’t want to scare that bigheaded sick kid too bad, else I reckon he’d keel over and die right on the spot. Christ, that’d be just what I need. Another dead kid found on my property. Sheeit.