Jim Stitzel
Jack-of-All-Trades, Master of WordsExcerpts from Life
No Moods, Ads or Cutesy Fucking Icons (Re-reloaded) » Guilty
No Moods, Ads or Cutesy Fucking Icons (Re-reloaded) » Guilty. This is... unfortunate. For what it's worth, I tend to side with Dr. Watts. I've always had a problem with the customs process for crossing between the US and Canada. It's been my experience that the guards...
Ficly
For those who may be interested, I've set up a presence on Ficly and modified a handful of my flash fiction pieces to work over there. I'm hoping that this will help encourage me get back into writing again, albeit in bite-size chunks. If you happen to also be a Ficly...
Video: Shakira – Did It Again
I don't much care for Shakira's music. Nothing against her form, per se; it just doesn't really match my tastes. In fact, anyone who knows me is pretty familiar with my general disdain for all things pop. I like to joke that if it plays on the radio, chances are...
Fiction
Fiction: Beautiful Insanity
He is a tiny man. Under four feet tiny. Balding pate. Small eyes. Round, tortoiseshell glasses. Tattered brown suit. Nothing to look at, certainly, not that anyone is looking. He glides through the crowd, clearing a path without word or gesture. People move aside for...
Gods of Dirt
There were things we worshiped before the new gods. Things of the dirt. Things of the dark. Things that moved and swarmed and crawled in the spaces beneath our feet. We feared them, even as they ignored us. To them, we were the worms. And less than worms. We were the...
Fiction: Shade
Night clings to the forest like a shroud. The darkness is nearly absolute, the silhouettes of the trees only just a hair's-breadth deeper black. The sounds of life are everywhere, however. The chirps of insects and the calls of nocturnal predators. The sounds of...