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Invisibility. (A monologue by Donovan Albright)
Invisibility is a cool gift I suppose. At least I think I’m invisible. It started awhile back. I was fourteen. It was my first year of high school. This isn’t one of those stories about the bully, the nerd and the beautiful girl. No this is the story of something much greater! This is the story of how I gained my super powers! I was never popular in school. I always thought it was because I was a “nerd” or too smart or way too into Star Wars. It was something else though! I had the power of invisibility! It explains so much! I was never bullied in school because I was cloaked from those weak minded thugs! I never dated because no girl could see my stunning physique! I was always overlooked by the teachers because they literally could not look at me! I guess it also helped that I was not a hooligan. Anyways, I realized I had this gift when my body started going through some changes. Most people at the time were growing beards and getting taller.their voices would change and some were cursed with horrible terrifying acne! As for me? I was lucky! I could turn invisible! I know what you guys are all thinking “Why doesn’t he use his invisibility to pull pranks or rob a bank?” I’ll tell ya why! I took an oath to use my powers for the greater good of mankind! To be honest… I’m actually not sure how to use my powers. Can you see me? Am I invisible?
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Xbox One will be able to talk back to you. I want mine to sound like JARVIS from Iron Man
The Xbox One is packed with all sorts of futuristic features (and also sadly DRM) and one of them is the ability to talk back to you. Polygon is reporting that one of the unannounced features for the One is a Siri like interface that will speak back to users and ask them questions. As if a camera constantly watching your every move wasn’t creepy enough, it can now tell you your haircut sucks. Maybe. Still kind of neat if only to have it talk back to me and call me Iron Man.
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The Cure for Duck Face Photos is to Photoshop Spaghetti onto Them
You look sooooo cute but OMG carbs.
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If you combine their powers, you can summon Captain Procrastination.
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She told me no other girl would love me the way she did. I’m starting to believe It’s true. No other girl has stalked me before.
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Siren Alley (A monologue by Donovan Albright)
Every day. Every fucking day! No… No! Every fucking hour of every fucking day! Sirens! Hundreds of thems! Blaring! Blasting their warnings. Filling the air with noise pollution. I mean I could understand a police car or two a day, but every hour? I swear I live in siren alley or something. Police sirens, fire truck sirens, ambulance sirens, and don’t even get me started on the tornado sirens. All I ask for is a little peace and quiet. Can I even get that? No! When those damn sirens aren’t going off their noise still echoes in my ears. Haunting me. Driving me to the brink of insanity. Vibrating inside my very soul! I’ve tried everything to block out the sirens. I try to sleep it off. It’s still there! I try to block it out with television. It’s still there! I try to crank my music to the max! It still has a way of creeping itself in! I even tried plugging my ears up with wax! I mean it worked for Odysseus right?
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The Ice Cream Man. (A monologue by Donovan Albright.)
I hear the timer ring. It rings every fifteen minutes. Four times an hour. It’s always the same. Alternate heat, reset timer, stir, and repeat. It’s how I tell time on these long days. Every time I hear that ringing I know I’m just that much closer to freedom. Don’t get me wrong my job isn’t hell or anything, it’s just so repetitive. Hi, answer, order, scoop, take money, give change, and send them on their merry way. Day in and day out always the same thing. Twenty four times a day I hear that ringing. My mind wanders. My thoughts creep. My imagination paints a scene. I fight off my most hated foe. You can’t see it or touch it but you can feel it. Boredom, my nemesis since I was just a small lad. I will not be defeated by it. I will not let it consume me. I keep myself busy. I read, I write, I dream, and I scoop ice cream. For $7.50 an hour, I am the Ice Cream Man.
