ACMESHORTS - We Are The Internet

	Friday 3/27/2009 DIY by Ewan Snow
	Wednesday 3/25/2009 The Nature of the Ways Things Woiks by qualcomm
	Friday 3/20/2009 Maturity. by qualcomm
	Thursday 2/26/2009 Dr. Various by qualcomm
	Tuesday 1/6/2009 Shakespeare Can Suck a Rhinoceros' Cock as Far as I'm Concerned, and That Goes Double for the Rest of You Crapping Cocksuckers by qualcomm

Fresh Short - Thursday 4/25/2002

Dick Gregario pulled into the parking lot of the YMCA in downtown Hartford. He was happy, elated actually. It was time for his work-out. Dick used to have a membership to Bally's Jack Lalane, but had cancelled it because of an 'incident'. He liked the feel of the 'Y' much more. Just a bunch of regular guys like himself, right? No attitude - you can leave that at the door buddy. He tried to explain it to his wife later that night.

"What can I say, honey? It's sort of an 'Everyman' type of place, you know what I mean? I really like the 'Y'. Goddamnit there's something downright egalitarian about that place. It's democratic - democratic in a real older American way, maybe like Walt Whitman or Emerson meant. You know what I mean, honey?" He slapped her butt for good measure.

In that instant, Gregario became moved by his own words and felt goose flesh trail up his leg. He felt his penis grow ever so slightly under his jogging shorts in the beginnings of an erection. In the next moment, though, he sensed the hollow emptiness of his words and became embarrassed. His felt a tickling unpleasant sensation in his lower abdomen and groin, and immediately felt his penis shrink.

What Dick Gregario did not tell his wife that night was that he liked the smell of the 'Y': the faint fecal odor, the light but sharp smell of urine, the odor of sweat mixing with the synthetic fabric of the punching bags and mattresses, and the chlorine smell of the pool that on some gut level he associated with the smell of his own semen.

Author: Phony Millions

Avg. Rating: 4.71 (7 votes received)
Word Count: 279
Submitted: 4/25/2002 4:33:00 PM
Controversy Picks: 0

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10/29/2004 10:15:06 AM - Dylan Danko: I feel the same way about the Y!
10/29/2004 10:02:51 AM - Ewan Snow (): I can't believe I never voted on this one. It's always been one of my favorites.
10/29/2004 2:30:41 AM - John Slocum (): Fantastic last sentence, or last 'graf, however you look at it.
5/15/2004 3:07:51 PM - TheBuyer (): (no comment)
2/14/2004 3:16:44 PM - Phony Millions: Hmm Feldspar...Your bro was quite the wrestler in his weight class as I recall - could it be that he doesn't like the send up of the Y?
2/14/2004 1:57:23 PM - qualcomm (): i'unno what cunt gave this one star, but i suspect my brother.
2/14/2004 1:55:06 PM - Phony Millions: Thanks y'all!
2/14/2004 7:50:41 AM - Jimson S. Sorghum (): Yeah, this is an all time classic...
2/14/2004 12:23:53 AM - Mr. Pony (): I've been looking, but I've been pretty hard-pressed to find an Evans short that I don't like, if I just sit with it a minute.
2/13/2004 8:09:21 PM - scoop (): I bet Sam Peckinpah thought the same exact thing.

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Fresh Short - Friday 5/21/2004

The baby scurried for cover with the urgency of a cockroach when the kitchen light is flicked on.
It hid behind the derelict oil tanker; scorched and blasted from a battle no one had bothered to name. Its little feet settled in to the carpet of bleached bones. It couldn’t tell whether they were baby or puppy. It didn’t care.

It breathed shallow, like it was trained to. Puppies had been running patrols irregularly since the latest escalation in "activity", and now here the baby was a good click from camp. Some cease-fire. Just another chance for the two sides to rearm, feed their armies weapons and rations and lies.

It could hear the puppies panting as they padded by; their weapons mounted to camouflage collars. Fucking puppies with their lolling tongues and slavish obedience. But are we any better, it thought? With our chubby, ruddy cheeks and biologically designed innocence? Ever since its last kill these questions, dangerous questions, had bounced around the stinking baby’s head like a big red ball. When was it going to end?

No one could remember how it started, but since it did the war in the wasteland between the babies and the puppies would cost millions of lives on both sides. But the frenzy of war, much to the surprise of both the babies and the puppies, did eventually subside. It ended as suddenly as it began. A cease-fire finally held. It lasted one month. Then two. Until, finally, a sleepy-eyed peace took hold, and the combatants wiped the war from their eyes and tried peace on for size.
But the memories, fetid and rotten, would live on forever -- interred in the bones of the lost, and in the buried enmity of the living

Author: scoop

Avg. Rating: 4.67 (9 votes received)
Word Count: 292
Submitted: 5/19/2004 5:55:13 PM
Controversy Picks: 0

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5/27/2004 7:44:40 PM - mr.coffee (): (no comment)
5/24/2004 3:17:41 AM - Snack Bar: my whole 7 X 1 long life spent over-thinking and scraggy-mutt drifting, wandering the streets in heat, ne'er a decent bone in sight (ain't THAT the truth), always hoping i'd find my way home and... Daddy?
5/23/2004 11:49:09 AM - Mr. Pony: Scoop, I believe the video game rights to this story will make you a very wealthy man someday.
5/23/2004 11:37:03 AM - scoop: Yes Snack Bar, of course it means your evil, in its counterpart, can be genetically scientifically altered, plastic-surgerized, snip tuck lifted and redesigned especially since you are especially gifted with the bitch-dog human bastard child of your own thoughts. In fact if you were my little angel I would make sure to place you in the gifted with the bitch-dog human bastard child of your own thoughts program at a select area private school. And I would proudly and prominently place a bumper sticker on my car that read: "Proud Parent of the gifted with the bitch-dog human bastard child of your own thoughts program!"
5/22/2004 8:42:45 PM - Jimson S. Sorghum (): Babies and puppies....
5/22/2004 4:55:24 AM - Snack Bar: if innocence is biologically designed, does that then mean my evil, in its counterpart, can be genetically scientifically altered, plastic-surgerized, snip tuck lifted and redesigned if i am also gifted with the bitch-dog human bastard child of my own thoughts? in heat, dry-humping with ugly protruding red lipstick, i want to be fixed. there must be a market for this in either Beverly Hills or animal shelters.
5/22/2004 12:37:55 AM - TheBuyer: The last two sentences make my effing day.
5/21/2004 11:15:50 PM - John Slocum (): I agree with snow on this short, the same way I agree with him on the increased use of new oak barrels in the elevage of certain wines in excellent vintages.
5/21/2004 9:32:02 PM - Jon Matza (): What sickens me is the hypocrisy of the civilians, letting the babies and puppies fight their battles for them and then treating them like a dirty little secret after it was over.
5/21/2004 6:40:40 PM - Mr. Pony: ^_^
5/21/2004 6:31:19 PM - qualcomm: CAN'T ARGUE NOW.... POWERPOINT...
5/21/2004 6:30:27 PM - TheBuyer: The ACME THUNDERDOME is screaming for this ongoing outpouring of impotent rage over what is (almost) a fresh dispute and is ruining a damn good short.
5/21/2004 6:22:10 PM - From Author: That was possibly one of the most monstrous things I've ever heard Pony say.
5/21/2004 6:18:04 PM - Mr. Pony: That said, where's the fucking chocolate?
5/21/2004 6:17:31 PM - Mr. Pony: As far as your main point goes, it's true, I have been relying on italics a little too much lately. Concerning the other stuff, defending myself against that would (obviously) just perpetuate the feedback loop that has been reverberating between us for months. I'd like it to stop here, at least for a moment. As anyone who has closely followed one of our arguments will tell you, we both put an inordinate number of words into each other's mouths. Both of us have a tendency to make a grab for the moral and intellectual high ground. Each of us is more likely than usual to accuse the other of something we ourselves are guilty of. And yes, I believe that both of us have a tendency to universalize our arguments. I think that's maybe why we find ourselves at odds with each other on the scale that we do. I'm not saying I'm right, or that you're right, or even that we're somehow even, I just think that both of us need to think about this for a moment before proceeding.
5/21/2004 6:04:59 PM - TheBuyer (): Whatever universe this is I want to live in it. I'd be a goddamn giant!
Also, I forwarded this short to my old roommate who was the butt of a running joke where she lives on Princess Island and the biggest debates involve heated discussions about which is cutest - puppies, babies, or kittens and the ongoing controversy - does sunshine really radiate out of her ass?
She's gonna love this.
...damnit, I just blew my next short.
5/21/2004 5:48:29 PM - Ewan Snow (): I like the idea of a puppy/baby way and this was well written. Not quite five material in my book, but enjoyable.
5/21/2004 5:47:18 PM - Ewan Snow: Wait, where's the chocolate?
5/21/2004 5:42:30 PM - qualcomm: that sucker was solid chocolate, pony. it's your usual rhetorical gambit, attributing your own faults to your opponent (such as your repeated cry that i put words in your mouth, when you are so much more guilty of that (for example of this, see argument regarding airea poem in next sentence's parenthetical)). not to mention, as i've said before, universalizing every particular argument i make (eg: i say you're wrong to vote 4 for disney's urban myth and you accuse me of saying anyone who disagrees with me is wrong; or, i say that your poetry reading was a naked ridicule of airea, and you basically accuse me of saying that it's impossible (italics yours) to both make fun of and pay tribute to something simultaneously). in addition, you have a penchant for taking hard, opinionated stances on a given subject (which of course i have no problem with), but couching your argument in the self-effacing, populist language of relativism, meanwhile accusing your opponents of being fascist tastemakers. thank you. "no hard feelings."
5/21/2004 5:09:38 PM - Mr. Pony: I have also posted a link to "Smartie Jones" on a couple of "Equestrian Art" Message boards!
5/21/2004 5:06:40 PM - Mr. Pony: (you offered a hollow suggestion that I was guilty of the same activity I was accusing you of)
5/21/2004 5:00:19 PM - qualcomm: (what did i just try to do, pony?)
5/21/2004 4:55:45 PM - Ewan Snow: Ha!
5/21/2004 4:54:13 PM - Mr. Joshua: Pony, instead of baiting the Lerpa, shouldn't you be working on the next Smarty Jones short? Did you see that because of your misspelling of Smarty (Smartie) that 'Smartie Jones' is now the number one query that has brought well-meaning people to Acme? Also, if it makes you feel any better, I once drooled on the Lerpa while he was sleeping.
5/21/2004 4:54:09 PM - Mr. Pony: Well, okay then.
5/21/2004 4:52:51 PM - qualcomm: yes.
5/21/2004 4:51:54 PM - Mr. Pony: Why would you even try to do what you just tried to do? Has it been a long week for you? As for the stars I gave the short, they were for the laughs that came out of me because of it. I know the short was kind of dumb, but haven't you ever given four stars to something that made you laugh, even thought you thought it was dumb?
5/21/2004 4:45:56 PM - qualcomm: and yes, you were wrong to give that disney short four stars. wrong wrong wrong.
5/21/2004 4:45:03 PM - qualcomm: oh, so you're saying i'm not thinking through what i'm saying properly?
5/21/2004 4:44:14 PM - Mr. Pony: Standardless? Every single time you've demanded an explanation for my "standardless" voting, I've come forward with one. (Perhaps I've been spoiling you!) I know that you're not suggesting that those who don't agree with you are automatically wrong, foolish, and/or not thinking things through properly, but you should take note that it's sort of coming off that way.
5/21/2004 4:32:47 PM - qualcomm: i've been over myself for years, pony, ever since i stood myself up for the big dance. it's you, pony, you i need to get over, you who stick in my craw, with your standardless voting. there will be a reckoning for your kind, pony, a reckoning and a totalling, followed by a rounding up and a gathering, a fencing in and an 'internment' if you will. it will happen in the territory that will be known as California, during a period of time that will one day be referred to as World War II.
5/21/2004 4:27:51 PM - Mr. Pony: It's getting so I can't vote without the Lerpa sticking his ass in my face demanding an apology.
5/21/2004 4:22:07 PM - Mr. Pony: Who is he to stand over us in judgment?
5/21/2004 4:18:54 PM - Mr. Pony: I'm getting really tired of the Lerpa telling us all what to do.
5/21/2004 4:11:34 PM - From Author: Oh no he didn't, oh no he didn't! No seriously he didn't just go there, did he. OMG I think he did.
5/21/2004 4:07:24 PM - Mr. Pony: And I suppose it's also just one star better than "It was Women's Baskeball", lerpa? Get over yourself.
5/21/2004 3:29:58 PM - qualcomm: really, it's only one star better than disney's penny/nickel urban myth, right pony? homo.
5/21/2004 3:27:22 PM - qualcomm (): (no comment)
5/21/2004 3:14:30 PM - Mr. Pony (): That's really very good.
5/21/2004 3:12:57 PM - Will Disney: holy crap it's an afternoon author short!
5/21/2004 3:05:14 PM - Ferucio P. Chhretan (): I don't care if this was designed to lure the geeks out, I love this short.

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Fresh Short - Wednesday 4/8/2009

[warning: this short is longer than 500 words]

Stirring the sauce in an x-rated, counterclockwise motion, Bamberg smiled meaningfully at the girl on his couch. No go, bro; her present attention--if it could be called that--was devoted to listlessly leafing through a housewares catalog. Hey, all the better--gave him the chance to review her resume, so to speak. Kalie Grossman, Age 33. Nice chuckwagon; pretty good tom-toms; maybe a little lacking in the old coffee grinder. Black and Decker, possibly Krups if you squinted. No biggie, not a dealbreaker by any means. Speaking of beverages her drink was barely touched...no matter. A few years ago it would've flustered Bamberg but his older wiser self knew it just meant other things than food and wine occupied her mind. Dork sausage, for one.

No, he had to admit it was amazing the time and effort (and money) he'd saved since implementing maxim.com's #1 Snatchcut: a well-fed gal is a "she'll spread" gal. Say what you will, the proof was in the pudding. In the last year alone home cooking had netted him, postprandially speaking, half a dozen hand shandies, four throatjobs and seven full-on bonejobs. Hell, nine if you counted Lucy Catalina and Sally Breanne...but putting exes up on the board was strictly for amateurs. Bamberg wasn't about to go into the record books with an asterisk like certain wannabes he could name (e.g. Dibbs, Mace, Ben Jobson). Anyhow since enacting the culinary campaign there'd been only one single misfire to date--and no wonder, she'd turned out vegan (thanks for the advance notice lady!)...which'd been a stroke of luck actually since 95% of the time macrobiotic muff causes second degree razor chafe. Anyhow, in a heroic recovery Bamberg'd converted the leftovers into a bone-a-thon the very next night with a different, none-the-wiser lady. Reheat, Recycle, Reacharound.

Personality-wise this particular one seemed a bit unstable; low self esteem, edgy in her skin. Easy pickings in other words, long as a guy was mindful not to make any sudden movements. Fish in a barrel compared to certain recent dinner guests he could name...speaking of which best check the trout...

Almost done. May as well finish setting the table. He eyed its minimalist modern sheen with satisfaction...inspired, no, attaching Grundul legs to a Kyorg? Mix and match was the secret to maintaining one's individuality in this mass produced world. Getting it home hadn't been cheap, thanks to Franklo's selfish refusal to do him a solid--but the investment was about to pay off in droves, and cunnilingus was the currency.

Thing was, in the quest for quim God was in the details. If a lady sensed no effort was being spared for her comfort and pleasure, et fucking peter cetera, horniness ensued. Bros who accepted and embraced this would never want for tang. Along these lines Bamberg turned up 89.9, the Vacation Station, deftly fading in more volume such that without being consciously aware of it Ms. Grossman felt the romantic atmosphere quicken. Time to break out the heavy artillery. He lit a cinnamon scented candle, moved the flowers to one side and, with a flourish, set down his ceramic Renoir trivet. Culture. Nature's greatest panty luber.

***
As you know, Reader, the fairer sex's delicate sensibilities don't simply switch off post-forn. It being Bamberg's business to remain ever mindful of such minutiae, he headed to the shitter to dispose of the spent cum-bag. There, in the can, sat its wrinkly twin. Christ, he hadn't taken the trash out since whatserface, the pleasantly plump travel agent? Come on, man. Not that this girl would've noticed or cared but Bamberg's sloppiness irked him. To dispel the negative vibe he tried a hearty joke upon reentering the bedroom. The half-naked Kalemeister was perched on the windowsill, smoking; Bamberg rushed forward as if she was about to fling herself from the window. "Don't do it! It's not worth it!" he shouted.

"That's so not funny. I tried to kill myself three times in high school."

Oh for fuck's sake. Reaching out to hold her, Bamberg forced himself to "react" with animated, earnest concern. "Oh my god. Really? That's awful. I'm so sorry, I didn't know. Why would you do something like that?" And so on. To his surprise she not only seemed to swallow his halfhearted appeasements, but soon was issuing "more sex" signals. As he thrust away, Bamberg mentally berated the girl for her failed suicides, further arousing himself. "So...couldn't close the deal, eh? Why not? Not man enough? Couldn't stand the sight of blood? You bitch!" He came in a triumphant gush.

Author: Jon Matza

Avg. Rating: 4.63 (4 votes received)
Word Count: 758
Submitted: 4/7/2009 12:49:39 PM
Controversy Picks: 0

User Feedback:(+ Add Comment)
4/15/2009 4:28:33 PM - Dylan Danko: Also, kudos for naming the wannabes.
4/15/2009 4:21:34 PM - Dylan Danko: Gross.
4/14/2009 1:12:11 PM - Ewan Snow (): Very funny short. Too long, but several LOLs. Matza, I know you may find this difficult to believe, but "mocking" you was the farthest thing from my mind when I was laughing about "Ar-MEGGA-don". It wasn't the fact that you mispronounced it that was funny -- hey, we're all only human -- it was the greatness/aptness of your pronunciation, the apocalypse-as-godzilla angle. So rotate the frown 180, Grady!
4/9/2009 7:24:47 PM - qualcomm (): hey, guy, you're going about it all wrong. women aren't impressed by six star meals and william saroyan furniture. all you have to do is listen to what they're saying. just listen.
4/9/2009 12:44:52 PM - Jon Matza: Snow: along w more recent malapropisms/mispronunciations you've mocked me for (e.g., Ar-MEGGA-don, pentultimate, lying prostrate) you might be h'amused to know in junior high I thought it was 'cun-NING-u-lus'.
4/8/2009 11:08:56 PM - From Author: Yeah...This turned into one unwieldy sonofagun. Considered submitting as Parts I & II and/or omitting certain grafs that didn't drive the plot forward...like the Kalemeister just couldn't pull the trigger though.
4/8/2009 5:19:41 PM - scoop: I have two complaints about this short. One, I feel that the author is cramming the contents of two shorts in to the shell of a single short, not unlike Burt Reynolds trying to squeeze his massive nuts in to a bikini bottom. The second complaint, closely related to the first, is that this is clearly an inside short, and that the aughthor, instead of editing reality for the sake of art, slavishly copied it; and he did so at the expense of comedy, cohesiveness and something else important that begins with the letter c.
4/8/2009 4:18:32 PM - Mr. Pony (): This is long, but the author was clearly enjoying him/herself, and this joy was transferred to me upon reading, as if by magic.
4/8/2009 3:00:12 PM - scoop: I hope that Dork sausage is organic and shot through with artisnality...
4/8/2009 12:27:33 PM - Dylan Danko (): This reads a bit like Matza fan fiction and it is perhaps a little long and disjointed but its premium moments make this a 5. Half a dozen hand shandies should impress anybody. I was disappointed to learn that the Franklo character wouldn't do the author a solid. What a dick.
4/8/2009 8:44:40 AM - Jon Matza (): Too long and choppy, AweThor, though it has some bbq bacon cheddar moments. 3.65?

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1. Penny Pulaski - published 3/18/2004 by qualcomm - Avg. Rating 2. I had been lubricating with iodine-125 and I think my wife’s vagina was degrading. - published 5/14/2004 by John Slocum - Avg. Rating 3. Kofi Annan absentmindedly fingered the burled walnut inlays on his Bentley's rear passenger control panel. - published 9/28/2004 by qualcomm - Avg. Rating 4. Slopcloth - published 3/1/2004 by Phony Millions - Avg. Rating 5. Be warned, ladies—I’m like a pit bull when it comes to pussy. - published 10/27/2004 by Jon Matza - Avg. Rating