Tag Archives: Brute Force

On Spilling Paint Instead of Blood

Whata ya doin’ over here, Dury?“ growled a par­tic­u­larly obnox­ious third class boatswain’s mate as he drew near. “To tell ya the truth,“ I replied, “I’ve been playin’ with myself.“ “I thought so,“ he grunted. “Only I hope you haven’t spilled … Con­tinue read­ing

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The Man This Naughty Boy Had Become

And so was I left stand­ing in the bushes beside the lane, star­ing down the end of a rifle, with a gook in my sights. “Remem­ber, my son, you are three per­sons in one,“ admon­ished my men­tor, as I stewed … Con­tinue read­ing

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The Sound of Sheer Silence

That night I dreamt I finally stum­bled on what I had been look­ing for, of late. Washed ashore along the coast of some islet in the south­ern Pacific, I aban­doned ship, lest she founder when the treach­er­ous tides, that’d marooned … Con­tinue read­ing

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Humanity of an Animal in Attack Mode

That night, I dreamed I’d run into a wolf, while walk­ing through some dark wooded area of my life. Upon bristling, I was instantly trans­formed into a wolf, too. As we both stood there glar­ing at each other, with teeth … Con­tinue read­ing

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The Predator

In our reverie, we had let down our guard, long enough to allow a preda­tor to sneak into our midst. “I don’t like the way you look, sailor,“ exclaimed the preda­tor. “Who me?“ asked the miss­ing link as it looked up … Con­tinue read­ing

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Out of Sync

You have your beliefs, Dury,“ refuted Marty, “and I have mine. And I believe in usin’ brute force when nec­es­sary. Ya can’t talk to a f—-n’ ani­mal, Dury, when it’s in attack mode, cause the dumb f—-r ain’t gonna under­stand … Con­tinue read­ing

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Fallacy of the Phallus

As the low lif­ers swarmed over the side of the ship, half-​​​​cocked, like Pan, to seek out ’n’ rape the nymphs that hid from them, just beyond the gates to the base, in the vul­val town of Olon­gapo, Marty ’n’ … Con­tinue read­ing

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Fantasy Forged in Hell

The Bangkok was just as muddy a river as the mighty olé Mis­sis­sip’, back home. Except for an occa­sional glance from those thatched huts and stilted shanties which peeped through the dense foliage that skirted her loins, her banks revealed … Con­tinue read­ing

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The Force of Truth

Just then,“ inter­rupted my men­tor, “you recalled how dur­ing that one brief moment, last spring, while stand­ing alone in Lt. Smith’s state­room, you’d expe­ri­enced the incred­i­bly pow­er­ful force of truth, which you were unable to hold onto for very long, … Con­tinue read­ing

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The Urge to Use Brute Force

As you returned to that famil­iar set­ting, where dark­ness still over­shad­ows the truth,“ con­tin­ued my shadow, “you real­ized that your next oppo­nent would not come out of hid­ing, until you let down your guard, which took con­sid­er­able effort on your … Con­tinue read­ing

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