Another CatgirlAs Aaron awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found he was transformed in his bed into a teenaged catgirl. His boxer shorts felt too large, two nipples poked at the thin cotton of his T-shirt, and he had a tail. Moreover, it was already 9 o'clock; he should've been out the door an hour and a half ago.
"Aaron?" his mother's voice called. "Your boss is on the phone! Are you there?"
When he tried to talk he gagged silently instead.
"It looks like he's still asleep; I'll have him call as soon as he wakes up. I'm sure you already know how easily he gets sick. Yes."
Aaron spat out a wad of saliva and hair onto his bed sheets. "Ugh. What was that?" His voice had become much higher too. "Hello?" he said experimentally. He was hearing through the top of his head too--through two big cat ears.
"Oh my!" His mother had poked her head into the room. "I don't think we've been introduced..."
Aaron pulled the blanket up over his chest. "It's me, Aaron."
"Your name's Erin? That's so cute! Aar
Time BunnyI don't think I can properly explain this whole mess without explaining about my mom, and about how I was born. My mother is a metahuman, and she has two powers. She can make copies of herself, and she (and her copies) can shapeshift into any human or mostly-human form. You would think she'd become some kind of superspy or superhero or something else with "super" in it, but she's a writer, and doesn't like to fight. Most days she wakes up way too early, drinks a lot of tea, and spends the rest of the day alternately writing and napping.
Some metahumans have this thing about how their powers should only be used for the common good, but my mom just uses her powers whenever she feels like it. When I was in elementary school she'd have one of her copies walk me to and from school, and if she was pressed for time she'd send a second copy to buy groceries.
The thing about her is that she's not very good with people. She loves me a lot, and she has a bunch of really good friends, but if you f
Slime Story: GraduationIt was late June, and I was having an average day. I hunt monsters using a sword, a Nike Cortana I got on sale at Monster Mart for $200. Its got DOUGLAS (my name, though everyone calls me Doug) etched into the blade (another $40). At the time I picked it because I liked the name. Philip gives me crap because it has a French name, never mind that the Adidas Excalibur he wants to save up for is too heavy for either of us to really use. At least its not called Exterminator or Terminator or anything else that ends in -inator.
Id spent hours cutting through squishies and stumpies when I came across a salamander. Theyre not super common around Los Banos, but theyre not rare either. I hate fighting those things because theyre always on fire, but I usually dont pass them up because salamander crystals are worth around $300, which would more than double what Id get from todays session. They
700 Catgirl NamesI am a huge fan of John Hodgman, especially his trilogy of Complete World Knowledge (Areas, More, and All). Each of these books has a list of 700 names of something (Hoboes, Mole-Men, and Ancient and Unspeakable Ones respectively), and I thought it would be fun to write a list of 700 catgirl names. I was wrong. Writing this list was a terrible idea that took several months and left my brain feeling as though someone had grabbed it and scraped out every last bit of goop they could possibly get out, and then just kept on scraping. And then I was at around 500 names. Since I actually did this thing, I have no choice but to share it with you, because that's just how things work.
Cat people (or homo felis) are one of many types of variant humans found all over the world, though female cat people, colloquially known as "catgirls," have a distinct mystique about them. (Dog-girls especially tend to resent this. The bitches.) This is in part
Otaku vs. ZombiesBryce woke to the sound of pounding on his door. He rolled over in bed and hoped it would go away. It didn't. He picked himself up and shuffled to the door. Something fell over in the apartment. When he opened the door, Julie slipped inside and slammed the door.
"Zombies!" she cried.
"Morning," he mumbled.
"Zombies!" she repeated.
"You broke your paddle thing." He pointed at her wooden paddle, which had at one point said seme on it. It was broken, splintered, and splattered with red.
Julie looked at it, then up at him. "Bryce! Zombies!"
He stared at her.
She rolled her eyes. "Ugh! Coffee."
Bryce shuffled back to bed, and didn't stir until a pleasantly caffeinated smell drew him to the kitchen table. She handed him a large mug of life-giving brown liquid.
Julie was sitting across from him with her arms folded.
She took a deep breath. "ZOMBIES!"
Bryce jerked backwards and spilled coffee on his chest and hands. "You don't have to shout!"
She thumped the remnants of her padd
Beyond Otaku DreamsA ninja born of Konoha, she sits
With backwards Dracula. Their hands are clasped,
And eyes are closed. A sacred silence spreads
In circle chakra waves. Their simple hope,
A simple warmth, and all this early in
The morning while the con is still asleep.
A tired green room staffer bows his head.
His breakfast offering of cheese and mac,
With whispered words and clasping hands. Amen.
And then he says, I'm Baptist, like he need
Apologize. Our day—the first of four—
Has just begun. The con begins to stir.
And to this place the seven thousand fans!
They come and fill the high and airy halls
With desperate fannish mirth, and live as hard
As law allows within this other world.
My head is wrapped in static waves, the noise
Has pierced my brain. It's superflat; the light
Is bright and mad and sound comes down in waves.
Then somewhere on the other side—the world
Will always turn—though embers burn, the con
Is done. The weekend's back from whence it came,
Its year-long prison cell. T