Spamrider of the Apocalypse

They say when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. This always seemed sort of silly to me.  Mostly because I like lemons just fine. So what if life hands you a stinking pile of shit? What are you supposed to do then, make a shit sandwich? Funny thing is I once knew a guy who did exactly that. As…

So Bob has been wanting me to do another edition of Ask The Spamrider, the column where I answered letters from my so-called “fans”.  And God knows what Bob wants Bob gets.  Bob has this annoying way of relentlessly needling you, like a ravenous and bloodthirsty little mosquito you never can quite seem to swat. …

From the fiction writer’s perspective continuity is merely an irksome expectation based upon an unfortunate misunderstanding of unreality.

Schmelnoz once told me that the Zippo lighter is the pinnacle of man’s creation. “Think about it,” he said. Actually he probably said something more like, “Surmise Spamrider upon the following megrim…” But as usual I’m transliterating here. So he said, “Think about it.  Instant fire in a little pocket-sized indestructible metal box.  If you…

I tried Time in a Beer in a Bottle for the first time today. As an experienced Time Traveller not to mention drunkard it didn’t really do all that much for me to be honest. I can’t really say about the guy I shared it with though. I’m still combing through the history books trying to…

“Bene vixit, bene qui latuit.” -René Descartes (quoting Ovid) Schmelnoz the Incomprehensible says that when nobody knows who the hell you are then you can be anybody you want. Which I suppose is especially beneficial when even you don’t know who the hell you are.

So I just recently got back from my extended vacation visiting my Giant friends who dwell deep beneath the earth in the south of France. I visited them in the 27th century this time because their caverns are a lot easier to access then.  Giants basically live like forever so they’re essentially the same bunch…

I am returned. And just so everybody knows, I accidentally hit “send” too early whenever I sent that note back to Bob’s pickles.  Eggs.  Whatever. And I only had one shot. What the note should have said is, “No column this week, it is time-bound imperative that you do not publish any portion of this…

In the words of another fictitional Time Traveller, “Fuck you, asshole!” No, no, no, that’s not it. It’s, “I’ll be back…”

I’ve been getting fairly regular visits from Schmelnoz over the past several weeks, but it gets confusing as hell because I never know if he’s coming from the Past or from the Future. Very often neither one of us will have any idea what the other is talking about. So mostly we just drink.