73 Slices
Medium 9780615928272

It’s Not Cannibalism if Nobody Died

Dani Burlison Petals & Bones Press PDF


FRIEND: I am worried about postpartum depression.

ME: You should be. That shit is serious. I fantasized about killing both of my kids and myself every day after my second was born.

FRIEND: Whoa. So, will you prepare my placenta so I don’t lose my mind after the baby is born?

ME: Uh, ok.

I should be clear here. My friend was not desiring a meal and did not ask me to boil her up some polenta with gruyère, sea salt and a side of garlic-sauteed collard greens. She asked me to take her afterbirth into my kitchen and do all sorts of things to it in hopes of preventing postpartum depression. And I said yes. Not because processing her afterbirth was the best invitation I was offered at the time, but because I live in Sonoma County and that’s the kind of thing we do up here. Also, anything that keeps a lady friend from going ape shit crazy on her baby or herself is okay by me.

Now, many of us have sat patiently by while new parents share sweet tales of burying a firstborn child’s placenta under an apple tree in a backyard or driving it to a favorite wilderness destination to release it as an offering to the babyloving gods. But most stories involving the consumption of this surprisingly large, kidney-looking organ include wild animals–not humans–who suck amniotic fluid from their freshly born offspring’s pelt before gobbling down the placenta and umbilical cord for nutrition.

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Medium 9781574411836

Chicken Soup for the Damned

Robert Flynn University of North Texas Press PDF

Chicken Soup for the Damned j

Jesus was born in the biggest house with the finest stable in

Bethlehem. His mother was a member of the Daughters of Jericho. His father, Joseph, was a famous hero who drove a stake through the heart of a Palestinian and became CEO of Nazareth

Land Development, employing hundreds of carpenters and masons, creating Mt. Tabor Estates, and reducing the Cedars of

Lebanon to Shittim Wood.

As a boy, Jesus was the best athlete in Galilee, and once, to help his father hide gold while tax collectors slept, with five smooth stones he killed three roosters before they crowed. He also knocked out the eye of a Pharisee’s son but gave the boy a gold coin to replace it.

When he became a man, Jesus used the management skills he learned in his father’s office to assemble a team of adherents who would denounce dissenters, punish the poor, and appropriate the sick in order to enrich themselves. Preaching health, security, and prosperity to all who followed him, Jesus found a hearing wherever he went. Once after he had told them the parable of the Ten Bridesmaids who cornered the market on lamp oil, hangers-on followed him until they were faint. Jesus told them to give him their money and he would give them the secret of everlasting bread. His adherents took the shekels to the nearest McEdonia. Upon their return there was a scramble for the bagels and lox. After they had eaten all they could, they bought all Jesus’ lamp oil at inflated prices. Then Jesus told them the secret of everlasting bread was in the lamp oil of

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Rejected Travel Magazine Query:Sex Tourism on a Budget

Dani Burlison Petals & Bones Press PDF


the lower-income brackets of your readership. I think you’d agree that sex tourism is a growing industry with potential to change the world economy while simultaneously eradicating anxiety and depression.

For many of America’s eight-hundred billion heterosexual, single, moderate income women in their thirties and forties, the idea of competing for bed time with the twenty-five semi-eligible bachelors currently residing in the Continental United States is as appealing as cashing in Groupons for colon hydrotherapy singles mixers. Most of us opt out of said group colonic treatments, stay home and masturbate to reruns of Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations instead of suffering the humiliation of revealing oneself as one more god damn lonely single woman wading through a sea of perky twenty- somethings, blond hair extensions and kneedeep desperation in search of just a moment’s worth of eye contact, a prolonged handshake or even an elbow in the rib at these crowded, miserable events.

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Medium 9781741795240

Coming to America

Simon Winchester Lonely Planet ePub

Amanda Jones is a travel writer and photographer who lives in northern California. Her work has appeared in Travel & Leisure, Town & Country Travel, the Los Angeles Times, the London Sunday Times, Vogue and Condé Nast Traveller, among other publications. Thanks to a predilection for wandering, she has an embarrassing number of on-the-road tales of woe and misadventure. Amanda was born and raised in Auckland, New Zealand.

In 1982, at the age of twenty, I was still living at home with my parents in Auckland, New Zealand. The product of a spectacularly sheltered and conventional existence, I had graduated from university and had no plans for the future. One day, my father summoned me into his den, accused me of being ‘rudderless’, and presented me with a truly horrible suggestion. He was president of Auckland’s Rotary Club at the time, and he clearly felt the position entitled him to practise the worst kind of nepotism. ‘Rotary’, he announced, ‘is offering a scholarship for an MBA programme in America. I’ve entered your name. I feel quite sure you’ll get it. I think you can rely on the fact that you’ll be off to graduate school in a matter of months.’

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Onan Comes In From the Cold

Robert Flynn University of North Texas Press PDF

Onan Comes In

From The Cold j

When John was born, his mother said, “It’s a boy.” When Roybal was born, she said, “Another boy.” When John was a child, his mother told friends, “He’s a good boy.” When Roybal was a child, she told strangers, “I wanted another child but not this one.”

In Chillicothe Middle School, John was called Big John.

John liked being called Big John. Roybal was called Roybal and boys stretched it out and accented the last syllable—

Royyyy-bullllll. Roybal hated his name although his mother said he was named after a movie star. When he got to college where there was a library, he discovered the movie star was

Royal Ballet.

In high school Big John made good grades because he was an athlete with boyish charm and joked with his teachers. He never did homework because he was too busy chasing balls, girls, or a good time. He scored high on exams because the smart kids passed him the answers to win his smile.

Roybal made bad grades because he was smarter than his brother or anyone else in his school but he wanted to be liked and the smartest kid was never liked. He never did homework because he already knew all that stuff. He aced exams but his teachers gave him bad grades because they thought he cheated.

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