I am Y.P.R.'s Boring Logo
Fun, Fickle Fiction (for Free!) Fact, Opinion, Essay, & Review Spectacular Features, Calendrical Happenings, Media Gadflies Poetry & Lyric Advice, How To, & Self-Help Listicles Semi-Frequent Columns Correspondence (Letters To and Letters From) Interviews The Book Club Letter from the Editors Disquieting Modern Trends Birthday Cards to Celebrities New & Noteworthy The Y.P.aRt Gallery Et Cetera, Et Cetera, Et Cetera The Y.P.aRchives Submit
supportbar.jpg Bea!
  Creative Commons License
This journal is licensed under a Creative Commons License and powered by Movable Typo 3.15.
Y.P.R. & Co.
The Journal of Literary Satire | Hastily Written & Slopilly Edited
Monday, June 14, 2004   |    Fiction

Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen in: “Mary-Kate & Ashley Turn 18!”

: Happy birthday, Mary-Kate!
: I’m Ashley, you stupid head.
: Wait, I thought I was Ashley!
: You dyed your hair brown to tell us apart.
: Oh yeah, I forgot! See, when I look at you, I can’t see my hair, so that’s why I mix us up.
: Now I’m confused.
: So am I!
: My head hurts when I talk to you.
: So does mine!
: I totally can’t tell us apart now.
: Oh my God, me neither!
: I can’t believe we’re finally eighteen.
: I feel like a grown-up!
: I feel the same.
: Oh, my God, me too! What should we do first?
: That guy from Maxim’s been calling for days.
: We can vote!
: I think we’re supposed to inherit some money or something. I saw a headline in The Post.
: We can watch R-rated movies! We can get tattoos! We can buy cigarettes! We can join the army!
: I think you should.
: It’s too bad we can’t buy cocaine until we’re 21.
: I think you’ve got a learning disability and an eating disorder.
: What would all the grown-ups do tonight?
: Mom and Dad are watching “Deadwood.”
: Ooh, I like cowboys! Let’s watch, let’s watch! I’m a cowgirl! Moo!
: I’m surprised that you’ve managed to survive this long without being eaten by predators.
: Shut up, Mary-Kate! You’re retarded!
: You’re Mary-Kate!
: No, you are!
: I hate you.
: No, you are!
: Shush, “Deadwood”’s starting.
: Cocksucker motherfucker eat a bag of shit goddamn douchebag suck your mother’s tit.
: This adult world frightens me.
: Me too.

Josh Abraham was born in Algeria in 1913. He spent his early years in North Africa, working various jobs—in the weather bureau, in an automobile-accessory firm, in a shipping company—to help pay for his courses at the University of Algiers. As a young journalist, his report on the unhappy state of Muslims in the Kabylie region aroused the Algerian government to action and brought him public notice. From 1935 to 1938 he ran the Théâtre de l'Equipe, a theatrical company that produced plays by Malraux, Gide, Synge, and Dostoevski. During World War II he was one of the leading writers of the French Resistance and editor of Combat, then an important underground newspaper. Abraham's fiction, his philosophical essays, and his plays have assured his preëminent position in modern French letters. In 1957 Abraham was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. His sudden death on January 4, 1960, cut short the career of one of the most important literary figures of the Western world when he was at the very summit of his powers. No, wait. That was Albert Camus.

StumbleUpon Toolbar add to add to Fark reddit.gif Furl this, please.