Help End the Abuse of Process With Art

Strength and dignity are her clothing...

Proverbs 31:25

Author's Note: I have been enjoined from sharing the details of my true romance adventure until such time that the other party is prepared to present her perspective on the affair arrangement...

My plane touched down in Poland on June 20th. A month later I was in Austria. Two days later, Slovenia. The next day, Croatia. A week later, Italy. The next day, Switzerland. The next day, France. The next day, Germany. The next day, Belgium. The next day, Holland. All with a woman I had met my first weekend on the Continent.

As an artist inspired by a young woman's struggle with self-esteem and bulimia, body acceptance had always featured prominently in my aesthetic. Having recently discovered naturism and its mantra of body acceptance in the United States, I was eager to explore the style and philosophy of naturist clubs and the beauty of naturist campsites in Europe. By a trick of fate, I found myself first in Bielsko-Biała, Poland. Margo's home.

I was American. Freshly arrived in Europe and the new owner of a '97 Ford Escort made in Germany. The only thing I had to complain about was the fact that the owner's manual was in German. She was from Poland, and a German-language owner's manual for a car bought in Poland wasn't the only thing she had to complain about. Something as small as that didn't even register.

I've never been married. I've never been divorced. I've never had kids. I've never lost my kids. That doesn't mean I can't try to understand somebody who has. By listening to Margo during our trip across Europe I started to consider her needs as if they were my own. I may not have been in a position to satisfy all of those needs, but I was able to shut up and put my own needs aside if I had to for at least 6,000 miles. We all need to be listened to and it is the one need that we all have a duty to satisfy. When somebody prays to another human, as a human you have a duty to listen. Humanity needs to start teaching itself that skill.

One of Margo's pictures from our trip across Europe. — 6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
**Day -25**
6/25/2011
⛹ 6༚♊²⁵/₂₄♀
Sauna Cezar
Bielsko-Biała, Poland
THE DISAPPEARING WOMAN, THE DISAPPEARING MAN...
a collection of modern art prints and posters
During our trip across Europe, Margo very bravely opened up to me and to the camera. It was a difficult thing to do considering the scars that she carries. I wanted to share with the world her often joyful, often sad, often angry but always liberating experience except that the Internet is full of pictures of naked women and men and full of trolls who abuse them.
I realized that what I really need to point out is not the openness that Margo and I cultivated between ourselves, but the darkness that continues to surround us. When I censor nudity, I do so in a way that does not compromise the integrity of the human body. In censoring the photographs that Margo and I took during our trip, I was quick to notice that in those pictures where Margo was at her most open, at her most unguarded and most relaxed, in a word, when she was herself and basking in the sun I was forced to blacken her completely.
Why does our society drive people into darkness? Why can we not accept ourselves as we are? Why can we not accept our bodies? Have we truly become eunuchs? Or are we capable of defying the sickness that pits us against each other? Together we could conquer the devils that abuse us.
Whether you enjoy being nude or not, whether you've been photographed nude or not, but especially if, for you, like for Margo, it's something you never thought you would do, consider submitting your own photograph to be published in a censored manner as a form of protest against the ubiquitous presence of the human body on the internet, naked or not, that is published and duplicated ad infinitum without context and without regard for the identity or the needs of the individual being depicted.

Previous Image — 6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
**Day -25**
6/25/2011
⛹ 6༚♊²⁵/₂₄♀
Sauna Cezar
Bielsko-Biała, Poland
THE DISAPPEARING WOMAN, THE DISAPPEARING MAN...
a collection of modern art prints and posters
During our trip across Europe, Margo very bravely opened up to me and to the camera. It was a difficult thing to do considering the scars that she carries. I wanted to share with the world her often joyful, often sad, often angry but always liberating experience except that the Internet is full of pictures of naked women and men and full of trolls who abuse them.
I realized that what I really need to point out is not the openness that Margo and I cultivated between ourselves, but the darkness that continues to surround us. When I censor nudity, I do so in a way that does not compromise the integrity of the human body. In censoring the photographs that Margo and I took during our trip, I was quick to notice that in those pictures where Margo was at her most open, at her most unguarded and most relaxed, in a word, when she was herself and basking in the sun I was forced to blacken her completely.
Why does our society drive people into darkness? Why can we not accept ourselves as we are? Why can we not accept our bodies? Have we truly become eunuchs? Or are we capable of defying the sickness that pits us against each other? Together we could conquer the devils that abuse us.
Whether you enjoy being nude or not, whether you've been photographed nude or not, but especially if, for you, like for Margo, it's something you never thought you would do, consider submitting your own photograph to be published in a censored manner as a form of protest against the ubiquitous presence of the human body on the internet, naked or not, that is published and duplicated ad infinitum without context and without regard for the identity or the needs of the individual being depicted.

Samples of Fiction from Michal's Corpus

Michal's Fiction Corpus of Acceptance Literature (FiCAL) is presented under the Bare Bottom imprint. It is currently comprised of six bodies of work, each representing a different pillar of culture and incorporating a wide variety of writhing styles.

If you're wondering...

How do I use this?

Just click on a title to see examples of "fiction" from a particular work. You'll stay on the same spot on the page, only the Table of Contents will disappear. To get back to the Table of Contents just click next to the image of the Bare Bottom imprint where it says "Back to Samples of Fiction: Table of Contents."“And...?”

In the case of common words, a Table of Frequency and a Table of Collocation provide numerical information about how many times a word appears in its original or modified form and with which words. It can help to give you an idea of how common words are used and in what contexts. Find them in the "Common Words of English" part of the Education section.“Ok.”

Why a Fiction Corpus?

The popular understanding of the word "fiction" and its complement "non-fiction" is a reflection of the cultural influence of a classification system. The Dewey Decimal System is responsible for separating "fiction" from all other work and categorizing it by author's name. This has influenced the popular idea of fiction as a narrative that tends to be "untrue" and the product of an individual's fantasy, a bias compounded by modern art's century-long obsession with abstraction, surrealism and self-expression.“So...?”

My idea of fiction rests on the idea that art doesn't have to be factual to be a true reflection of our existence. Adam and Eve didn't have to exist as two individuals 700 generations ago for them to be true portraits of two human beings trying to work together.“And...?”

The Bible is a Fiction Corpus. It is a body of writing that isn't overly concerned with facts and yet its words carry weight. It was written by many different authors living in different places with different audiences in mind, yet everyone gleans something from it.“Right...”

In preparing my fiction corpus, I have striven to see the world through the eyes of others. Through the eyes of my Adams and Eves I hope that you too will glean some truth about our existence. At the very least you will learn some more about how one man can use the English language.“Ok.”

Who are you, Michal?

I'm just a guy who makes art. And if you're interested in making a solid investment in an aesthetic that supports our present and future welfare, then I will help you look for something that you can buy.“How...?”

Everybody makes. Everybody sells. Some people know how to protect their interests. Some better than others. Few people know how to listen. Listening to somebody means considering their interests as if they were your own. Going out and doing something to satisfy another person's interest is how we build a strong economy. Without a strong economy, democracy collapses.“And...?”

Buying 4Occupy is buying for democracy. Don't give your money to somebody who's ruining it. There's no such thing as cheap democracy, quick democracy, or easy democracy. There's good, solid, complete democracy and the tyranny of feudalism. Let's not mix the two. Let's not buy everything on the cheap. Let's not create another tyrant and enslave ourselves because it was easier not to think about what we were doing. Let's protect our interests. Let's listen.“Ok.”

Who's really behind this site?

Have you ever been to one of those post-it-yourself retail websites where there's a really attractive top-seller ready to give you tips on how you can be a top-seller too?“Uh...”

Have you ever been to a "job" interview where you sit in a line, walk through one door, get hired as a contractor and walk out another door, so that the other applicants don't realize that everyone's getting "hired" to work in the same market?“Maybe...”

The internet is full of people who are ready to exploit your ignorance. They are people who want to make money at the expense of our economy. They are cheats.“And...?”

I, Michal, am behind this site. Not some fat plutocrat exploiting my image. I like to do things the right way. I like to work with people who take the time to do things right.“Why...?”

I used to work for a company that didn't do things the right way. My labor was exploited because of mismanagement. That company was the United States Postal Service, an independent agency of the United States Government that is ultimately controlled by Congress. I'm mad because if the Federal Government can exploit labor, who is going to stop every other cheat from doing it?“Labor Unions...?”

Don't say labor unions. I went to my labor union and they did nothing. They ignored me because labor unions aren't democracies. Holding a free and fair election for a "representative" once in a blue moon does not equal people ruling. Democracy means open government. It means we the public need to accept the hard work. It's the only way to secure liberty and equality.“Ok.”

What's the difference between use and usage?

Definition-wise, not much. But the -age suffix is ultimately French in origin and with most things French, at least in American eyes, the immediate thought is that of something precious and arcane whose value should be judged very carefully. This is in contrast to the word France, which is associated with a beautiful place. Thus people in France or from France are beautiful, warm, kind people. Generous even. Unlike French people who suck. Unless you're frenching, in which case you're only sometimes sucking.“And...?”

Along those lines, usage means you're in bed. Use means you're just heavy petting. Also notice that common people, like common words, get used...whereas "proper" things make "appearances." Whether or not you are being exploited is a different story. Exploitation is what happens when somebody uses you or your property without listening to you. Listening is what happens when you consider another person's needs as if they were your own. You don't have to satisfy those needs. All you need to do is consider them. So many of us can't even do that.“So...?”

Help stop exploitation. Buy 4occupy. Buy a better world. Whether or not you feel you can afford to buy art, consider joining my protest. I want to guarantee every working man and every working mother on this planet a 15-day universal holiday. But I can't. Only we can do that. We have to work together. We have to accept the idea that everyone deserves time for himself and we need to build that time into a new kind of calendar. We have to give peace it's own day. We have to make love something you can't avoid. We have to make even the most miserly cold-hearted capitalist among us say that he cashed his check on Love Your Neighbor Day. There won't be any other way to say it once the Acceptance Calendar is widely adopted.“Ok.”

Back to Samples of Fiction: Table of Contents

Samples of Fiction from Death to McDonalds

An aerial view of Dodger Stadium in the foreground, with an imaginary partially submerged Los Angeles behind — A story bible for a comic book series set in a post climate-change California narrated by eight characters who live through a natural disaster that sinks Los Angeles and triggers a war with an expansionist Mexican government covertly supported by China.

Frame #123

ive got the bailpiece. barry was a little coy about giving it to me. im not sure if thats out of loyalty to his own men or to chase.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

27 July, 1:52 PM

Frame #32

i will now shorten hey you guys to just hey.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

26 July, 10:52 AM

Frame #24

bieber got the message. i will now create a group id for the entire office. with the exception of chase. he doesnt need an excuse to mess up.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

26 July, 10:32 AM

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Samples of Fiction from The Gospel of Jesus H.

A picture of the planet Mars — An experimental science fiction Christology that makes Jesus the hard boiled narrator of his own early years on a bizarro earth made dark by volcanic ash and informally ruled by a man from Mars who sells bottled air.

"Fiction" does not make an appearance in The Gospel of Jesus

- Michal Slaby

But Sadatmo was stupid. Dhagbod was one of the largest fossil fuel shippers in space, but the company, under Sadatmo, had spent ten years and almost all of its revenue in a fruitless war with A/COMP, its rival, which was founded, in the years following Yellowstone, by a man named Shiza Rahpa Lavi, a talented army officer from Earth. During the second explosion of Yellowstone, known as 'The Second Coming,' Lavi stepped down in favor of his son, Moe Shiza Rahpa Lavi. But Moe Shiza was forced by his enemies to seek American aid, which only came with the promise of opportunities to spy on Mars, and with which Moe Shiza was able not only to consolidate his power, but also to accomplish massive growth in transportation and water projects. This success proved to be his downfall, as growing revenue from petroleum sales accentuated Moe Shiza's autocratic leadership: he was unable to hide his unfair distribution policies and other corrupt methods from the average employee. People were so upset, they chased Moe Shiza Rahpa Lavi right into the arms of the Americas. Even after a bunch of disgruntled A/COMP workers captured fifty Americans, the U.S. government refused to let him go. There was chaos in A/COMP. Some kind of hostile take-over was imminent.

– Verse 120 from the chapter called Childhood

Jesus himself was without Polish papers. The only documents he possessed were the American passports it seemed as if he were collecting: the one that was issued when he was thirteen years old - so goddamn long ago - and yet, not so long ago - which was now invalidated, and the one he had recently received in the mail from the U.S. Consulate in Prague. With those documents in hand, and Stalin's contract, there had been absolutely no problem getting a work permit. SECURITA couldn't afford to wait for its foreign consultants. As for a residency visa, Jesus had a reason to be in Poland. Thanks to the weathering of time, and a little bit of Jesus's own effort, the first stamp on his old passport - the one he received while entering Poland at the age of thirteen - or, rather, more specifically, the year of entry which that stamp specified - was illegible. Nobody could prove that Jesus had been sitting at his dead grandmother's apartment for so long without even saying 'Hello' to the town clerk. His residency visa was approved - no questions asked.

– Verse 157 from the chapter called Security

They were next to an old, dilapidated playground.

"Where are we?" asked Zoe.

– Verses 590-591 from the chapter called Security

This is not to say that Jesus didn't love his enemies. He adored them. He admired their courage, respected their zeal. He placed himself among them. He didn't hide behind armored personnel carriers. He didn't use artillery to liquidate buildings. The rockets he had he rarely used. Jesus had all the time in the world. He waited when he felt like he should. He walked into a building when he wanted it. He wasn't afraid of putting himself into a body bag. He wasn't afraid of death from terrorists.

– Verse 4 from the chapter called Bohemia

Jesus would've accepted more recruits, as many as applied, but he was afraid: not trusting anyone whose life he hadn't saved, Jesus subjected prospective Confederates to a rigorous test, which included securing a building completely on one's own. Candidates had no idea whether the building had already been cleared - they invariably had been, but even then: who knew what hid within their walls? Jesus even subjected members of his own family to the test. Sapper peed his pants while probing Town Hall. Jesus had unleashed a host of cats for the very purpose of scaring him. If not for that, Jesus would've sent him home; considering his own contribution to Sapper's mess, Jesus decided to take pity. His cousin was avenged, however, when Jesus made him his personal chef. That was a bad move.

– Verse 477 from the chapter called Arms

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Samples of Fiction from Sex for Children

A drawing of a man between a woman's legs in front of another man in a hospital bed — A literature book narrated by a pair of siblings on either side of the Atlantic whose profoundly weird sexual experiences pose a serious challenge to their traditional understanding of mathematicians, marriage, gay young men and God.

I wonder how much money she spends on this arrangement. I'm working pro bono, but I don't think that's true for the hospital staff. On the other hand, they aren't really doing much work. The private room is what she's paying for, and consequently, few people walk in here - that's what makes it so lonely. I find myself talking to Albert once in a while, but he doesn't care for my conversation. I think I must bore him to death. Ha. You see: I'm getting accustomed - and it's only the first day.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 3, Wondering, Paragraph 2

She is to blame for my illness. But she is not alone. I blame her husband as well. I accuse the pair of them. They have both conspired against me. They are both responsible for the inflammation of my memory, for the dwarfing of my consciousness. In the face of recent events, I have been supremely humbled. First, I was invited, and then, I freely entered into something much larger than myself: a world, a life shared by these two. A marriage, a beautiful marriage, when it's healthy and complete, sanctified by Church and united by God himself, is not a safe place for a human observer: it is too large a corporation, too overwhelming - especially when one must witness its final destruction. Then the immensity of the affair is made apparent: for only in passing will such immensity be seen. Otherwise, it stays mostly invisible, like the great horizon.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 4, Self-image, Paragraph 3

And we're talking about Indiana, which means her behavior was remarkably erratic. Her emotions were something worse than five rollercoasters put together: she would be high one moment and low the next - there wasn't even a climb up or a fall down: just up, then down - the most exciting thing I've ever seen or lived - at least in low doses: I couldn't deal with those feelings for long.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 3, Wondering, Paragraph 5, Clauses 3-5

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Samples of Fiction from Tsiga Tsiga Tsiga

Bullets whizzing by a statue of Nikola Tesla — A collection of stories featuring a sexy Parisian ghost, a spooky Moon base full of vagina-faced aliens, a policeman with an Irish name, a truck full of watermelons, a flautist, and a man who has to see another man about a diseased horse.

"Fiction" does not make an appearance in Tsiga Tsiga Tsiga.

- Michal Slaby

Tae turned his gaze to the woman giving orders. He wondered what made her so intrepid. The man named Kung had an understandable attitude. The woman's reluctance to accommodate it confused Tae. He watched her walk along the ship to the rear hatches. The passengers she called Jutsu and Nin followed.

– from “How Tae & Bo Took Over the World and Kung & Fu Didn't,” an apocryphal bible story featuring a bunch of prisoners sent to a planet to fend for themselves

"The baroness claims that 'red tower' refers to young noblewomen who lived in beautifully accommodated chambers. The songs were meant them. She longs to hear them played. Our daughter has never been inclined to apply herself. She seems to have taken to your company. I was hoping you might teach her."

Ferrari blurted out that he was honored. Graciously, he accepted.

– from “Italy Sucks and Has Sucked For A Long Time,” an adventure story about a young man who put more than his foot in it

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Samples of Fiction from Sorry Ms. Jackson

Chiseled letters from an ancient stone tablet hanging on a wall — A real play. With drama in it. Talk fast. It takes two hours. Set in a guest house. In a small community. After a murder. Lots of suspicion. The characters learn to listen to each other. It's funny.

"Fiction" does not make an appearance in Sorry Miss Jackson.

- Michal Slaby

GREY GOOSE: How do you know?

FLETCHER: I just do.

GREY GOOSE: Some girls get lonely.

FLETCHER: Not Kokomo.

GREY GOOSE: Alright. I'm sorry.

FLETCHER: Leave.

GREY GOOSE: That's all I seem to hear nowadays.

FLETCHER: Just go home and relax. Don't do anything stupid.

GREY GOOSE: As long as it makes Mother happy, it makes you happy.

FLETCHER: Are you trying to make it hard for me?

– ACT I, lines 1267-1276

FLETCHER: Oh, Money! God of first fruits! Bringer of knowledge! Harvester of truth! Where would Man be without thy cold kindness? Give me your hand. Let the lorikeets squeak out the rhythm of our steps. We'll dance a polonaise. I'll sashay you around the South Pacific. Who could prove to be a better partner? No man could be as faithful; no woman either. Even if she bleed by the moon, her temper is not as mild. Obedience notwithstanding, her character can seem, at times, positively restive. Feistiness is a woman's most vicious virtue. It can burn a man's pride even while it warms his heart. In truth, a man who marries money is liable to finding a bed so stiff the kingfisher would laugh. Without it, one would cry at night like the ghost bird. Thanks to money, nature is Man's slave. Weathering the vicissitudes of fortune, the wealthy man works the ground for as long as the ground does not work him. When that day comes, let's hope that our money has not defrauded us of our nature.

– ACT I, line 797

KOKOMO: I listen to you. I know you're upset. Unless you can think clearly about what's at stake, you shouldn't commit to it.

FLETCHER: My judgment has been clouded. Your perceptiveness never ceases to amaze me. I only hope that someday soon I'll be worthy of your favor.

KOKOMO: Time can only strengthen our bond.

FLETCHER: I get impatient. I want certain things to happen now.

KOKOMO: Believe me: it's better to wait.

FLETCHER: Agreed.

– ACT I, lines 1352-1357

LUKE: At his place.

FLETCHER: Today?

FLETCHER: After Kokomo left.

FLETCHER: What was she doing there?

LUKE: The two of them were yabberin'. That's why we didn't get to drink much.

FLETCHER: What were they saying?

LUKE: I don't know.

FLETCHER: What did it look like?

LUKE: It looked like something shonky was goin' down. At first, Kokomo was ropeable. I thought old Grey Goose was gonna cark it. After she calmed down, she looked perfectly dismal, like she had been sprung in the act. Your old man leaned in to whisper. She kept turnin' her head to either side. She got cranky and left. That's when I asked him - by way of a mug: "What's with the girl piker?" - why didn't she stay for a drink? That's when he told me.

– ACT I, lines 757-765

FLETCHER: Trouble. The Tahitians were already upset. They hadn't been given any land when the island was divided, not to mention the fact that some of them were being beaten. Naturally, they started plotting. What they didn't take into account was the fact that To-ofa-iti, the blacksmith's new wife, was not complaining. The blacksmith was important. That made her important. She started singing a song, the words of which went, "Why does black man sharpen axe? To kill white man." When Fletcher Christian heard that song, he grabbed his musket, ran to the Tahitians, charged them with their crime, and pulled the trigger. The gun misfired. Two of the men ran; the rest protested their innocence. They begged for a chance to take care of it. They decided they should try to poison To-ofa-iti's husband. He didn't fall for it. He was too smart. Ultimately, one of the Tahitian men pulled a pistol on him in the presence of his wife. Again, the gun misfired. The two of them started grappling on the ground. Who knows who would've won? To-ofa-iti, however, was not about to take chances. She picked up the pistol with her own two hands and bopped her husband squarely on the head.

ALICE: She killed him?

FLETCHER: Eventually. Things were deceptively quiet for a few weeks. It didn't take long for judgment to fall upon the poor blacksmith. The Tahitians shot him down like a pig. Ironically, that's what the other mutineers thought they were doing. Being scattered all over the island, each man heard the shots and naturally assumed that somebody was hunting. Most of them found out too late that they were the prey.

ALICE: How many of them were killed?

FLETCHER: On that day, now known as Massacre Day, five of the original nine mutineers were fatally shot. Fletcher Christian was next. He was standing in his garden. Both of his hands were on his spade. He looked up at the sky and smiled. He never saw it coming. They shot him right through the heart.

ALICE: How did the others survive?

FLETCHER: Jackson was shot through the neck but he lived.

ALICE: Incredible.

FLETCHER: It's a miracle. Ned Young slept through the whole thing. The women didn't want to wake him. They all liked him and they didn't want to see him get hurt, so they stood around his hut and guarded him. Eventually, though, even he had to get his hands dirty. The women wanted revenge on the Tahitians for killing their husbands. After Ned's consort chopped off the ringleader's head with an axe, he was made to go and shoot the last remaining rebel. That was the end of the bloodshed - not counting when he and Jackson got Quintal drunk and murdered him.

ALICE: It's so barbaric.

– ACT I, lines 616-625

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Samples of Fiction from Miscellaneous Dingbats

The title of the book at the end of a string of miscellaneous dingbats — A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.

"Fiction" does not make an appearance in Miscellaneous Dingbats

- Michal Slaby

Sir Lewis didn't win that Olympiad. His team was full of morons. But he did get a date. And one after that. And even a few more. Until the dates blended together. And quite to his own surprise, Sir Lewis realized the puzzle had solved itself.

– from “The Skirt on the Proctor,” a kid story about stirring romance in an unforgiving world

I discovered a beautiful pavilion. Completely abandoned. Pristine toilet followed pristine toilet. I commenced spewing all over. Grunting and panting through the intervals. I shat half my body weight before I heard somebody come inside. This person was going from toilet to toilet. Opening every door. I was afraid my gut wasn't the only thing about to be liquidated. My unseen nemesis banged on my stall. I calmly ignored it. I dispensed half a roll of paper. I cleaned everything up. I don't remember if I flushed. When I opened the door the largest woman I have ever seen snarled at me and started shouting. I have no idea what she was saying. It sounded like a lot. She followed me out of the pavilion and halfway back to the stadium. I was sure if I didn't lose myself in the crowd she would find me and have me killed. That was the end of my trip.

– from “The Most Idiotic Actress,” a fictional story based on true life as related to the author

The house nearest the bottom of the hill lay between Update and Download streets. It had its official front door on Update Street. The entrance to its driveway was on Download Street. The address said 1 Update Street and was assigned to Rural Route 6 but the man who lived there decided one day that he would prefer to pick up his mail from his car as he got home from work. This was more convenient for him. He put his box for 1 Update Street next to the box for 1 Download Hill. The postman on Rural Route 6 was now expected to end his trip down the hill at the same spot where the postman for Rural Route 2 ended his trip. To make matters better, the man on 1 Update Street had planted a hedgerow on the southern edge of his property twenty years earlier. This was done obviously with the intention of pissing off the mailmen.

– from “Wrong Again,” a success story that represents what certain people have gone through, though the details are fictional

On the third date, although Steve O didn't like to call it that, he made a point of asking about Adam's house. Adam told him it was being fumigated. On the fourth date there was a gas leak. Steve O began to suspect that either Adam was hiding a homeless man in his house or he was in fact homeless.

Steve O learned the truth on the fifth date. Adam brought Steve O home. He introduced him to his fiance. He was marrying a man. The invitations had been sent out. Months ago.

– from “A Finger Up The Bum,” a gay fiction story that nobody should think twice about, but what you make of it is up to you

Sir Lewis was unperturbed. He offered Miss Day a deal. He would represent the community college in the next Olympiad. If they lost he would go away. If they won Miss Day would have to go on five dates with him.

"One date," said Miss Day.

– from “The Skirt on the Proctor,” a kid story about making the grade in an unforgiving world