Nature is Horrible (NSFW or your soul)

If you go out in the woods today, you’re in for a SOUL-DESTROYING surprise. Half a raccoon. That’s not a picnic at all. Though the top half of the raccoon might have been something’s picnic treat. I guess that’s okay; the circle of life and all. It’s okay, that is, until you look at the other end of the corpse.

Oh, hey! This raccoon has been raped! Oh lovely. Where’s the hydrochloric acid? I have a set of eyes that need to be burned out. And if there’s any left over maybe I can BURN THE MEMORY OUT OF MY BRAIN.

Merry Christmas!

Your friendly neighborhood Buried Radiation Hazard

If you walk west out of Etobicoke’s Marie Curtis Park, you’ll come across the above scene. A mound of dirt with a chain link fence surrounding it. You’ll say to the person you’re with, “Does that sign say what I think it says?”

It does. Around the corner, the notice below is posted.

You’ll probably then say, “Well, I didn’t expect we’d see that today!”

Driftworld

Mr. Dapper’s fiction Twitter was resussitated last week with the start of a new project. Driftworld is a novella to be written 140 characters at a time over the course of 2011.

The story so far…

DRIFTWORLD

It all began, as these stories so often do, with a young woman who smelled of vanilla and a man who didn’t know his left from his right.

“Is anyone sitting here?” she said, indicating any one of the empty seats at his table in the ghostly quiet cafeteria.

He began to sweat.

He glanced at her out of the furthermost corner of his eye. Her orange hair reminded him of the haystacks in a Monet he’d seen as a student.

He could feel her smiling as she opened her carton fo milk. The tips of his ears flushed at the sound of the plastic straw parting her lips. He wondered why she hadn’t seated herself then realized she patiently awaited his reply.

He said, “These seats are all taken.”

She sat down.

And as she lowered herself onto the hard, red plastic chair, that was when the scent of vanilla wafted over him like a splash of cream. The pupils of his sage grey eyes dilated like nostrils flaring. He made a concerted effort not to notice her bustline or to breathe.

Having failed in his first goal, failure in the second became inevitable and he began to hyperventilate.

She said, “It’s the bomb isn’t it?”

*   *   *

Follow Mr. Dapper’s Twitter feed for daily* updates or visit the Driftworld page for weekly compliations.

* Mon-Fri, not including the days it doesn’t happen at all.

Fremen baby unclogs your pipes

It makes sense that the Fremen would have mad plumbing skills. That’s how they were able to control the water on Arrakis. All I can say is you don’t know the meaning of the word “unsettled” until you’ve had one of these guys stare at you from the van you’re stuck behind for half an hour. Alia could only hope to be half as creepy as this bambino. In related news, apparently she isn’t creepy at all now. Who knew?

By the way, this isn’t a one of a kind van. It’s part of a whole fleet of terror. We spotted several over the last year though we think they’ve changed since their graphics to a sort of horrifying Mike Myers/John Ritter “friendly plumber” hybrid. Better than a spice-addicted cherub about to bludgeon you with a monkey wrench, I suppose.

Oh, hey, here’s another picture of Alicia Witt who apparently isn’t, as rumoured, going to be the new Mary Jane in the Spiderman reboot.

Christmas Listening: Frost Kisst

Every year Mr. Dapper likes to give the gift of music to his loved ones (i.e. you, dear reader), usually under various pseudonyms. This year he comes at you as The Ice Cubist with some icy tones to warm your chilly bones.

The EP of holiday music is streaming and available as a free download at Tindeck.