Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Fiktion Korner

The following story was the winner of our "Ninety-Eight-Word Short Story Contest," not to be confused with the unrelated "98 Word Short Story Contest," which was a commemoration of the venerable word processing system of the same name.

Loud Sex and the Occasional Fishstick

We'd been living in San Francisco for a few months. It was bliss and it was agony. We piled the fishsticks in the shower in order to let them thaw. Exactly 111 at a time. The number was important, but for reasons we didn't understand. At dinner, he would say something to me. I'd cram my mouth full of fishstick and scream "fuck you" at him. His face now peppered with flecks of the breaded foodcraft, we would consummate our strange love like birds of paradise. San Francisco -- oh Jack, it's just like you said it would be.

-Boo Merengue

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Kids' Korner

This week at The Korner, we’re turning over a new leaf. After we awoke from our fortnight-long celebratory stupor, we realized things have gotten a little stale around here. But that’s no reason to point fingers *cough* maljohn *cough*. After all, when life gives you stale bread, make croutons—or in our case, explore a new genre. In a serendipitous and all too typical stroke of Kreation kismet, the inspiration for such a genre entered our lives recently and was deftly captured in this high-resolution snapshot:

A group of us were carpooling back to the HQ after an advance screening of Juno 2: Labor Party when we drove past this auspicious peddler of sleeper sofas, ottomans, and the like. It hit us all like a ton of propeller beanies. Kids are the future. Plus, there are thousands, if not millions of them on this planet alone. Why, then, had we neglected to cater to this demographic in the past? As we all had just seen from the tragicomic plight of the teen protagonist in the film, it’s not all malt shops and prom committees for youngsters today. They have real problems, making them worthy recipients for the rejuvenating and liberating effects of Kreationism. Grabbing this opportunity by the beak, we’ve commissioned our own Jawn Steighmeaus to produce some work custom tailored to the needs and interests of today’s youth. Like most of us at The Korner, Jawn has his finger on the pulse so his words will resonate in a big way with tots, tweens and teens. Let’s rock:

They sat and stared. Like the staring contests of times now only particles of a memory, dangling tenuously on the horizon of dream—but this time not for keeps. In their salad days they’d play for bubble gum, poster putty, power tools—whatever they could get their sticky paws on.
But then the precipitation swept through, and actually wiped corruption and decadence off the streets. Swift. Uncompromising. No quarter for the wicked.
After that, the old friends could man their respective seated positions, unfettered by unsavory thoughts and urges. One would sip Drambuie rocks, the other: tap water. With a new lease both on life and their third-storey walkup artist’s loft, the pair were content to exchange 17-foot stares, piercing each other’s retinas for minutes at a time.
“Look who’s laughing now, world,” the valiant warriors would guffaw as they reclined to saw logs after an arduous day of ocular combat. They had elbow room now. They’d climbed out of the quick sand pit of crazy tail and warm booze and carved out their own piece of Valhalla.
Now they could die happy as the broken factories rhythmically belched out uniform black plumes, like clockwork in the wasteland.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Post-Party Post

Mmm, just woke up with the distinct taste of cake batter in my mouth. Or was it fertilizer? The details are sketchy at best from the last few hours, days, or weeks, depending on who you talk to. It looks as though Gabe has already caught you guys up on the goings-on of the Kreation Korner birthday bash, an occasion which saw yours truly at the height of his decadence. But, as it seems he has retreated back into the welcoming arms of a cocoon constructed entirely of stripped cassette tapes, I thought I'd record some of my own memories. As I look about me, I see others in varying states of beer-and-nitrogen-induced repose and I think, "This was a good thing." It's all I can do to remember exactly what happened in our celebration... I see myself slow-dancing with Tum Cruz, a guy whose face I still can't quite place. Might not have been a guy after all, I can't be sure. I can recall vague pieces of a conversation held with GRECH performed entirely through Etch-a-Sketch, and I seem to remember that a healthy dose of MSG was involved. Straight, no chaser. Oy vey, what a mistake was that. And who could forget Nash Stillwater and Peter Doe, two men who put aside their differences for the purpose of a truly moving duet version of "Love to Love You, Baby." Yes, this was a good thing.

Well, I am truly famished, so I suppose I'll go scare up some fish sticks -- the ultimate brain food -- and start rousing some kreationists from their slumber. In closing, I'd like to echo Gabe's sentiment: we wouldn't be here without you guys. Well, that's not entirely true, we'd probably be producing the same high-grade brain-exploding material with or without your support. But still, it's good to know you're out there, you little people, forever in need of newly blown minds. You always seem to pick up the pieces and come back for more.

-Gonzalez Drive

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

What day is it?

This thing on? Ok, here goes. Hi, everyone, this is Gabe Gabriel and I gotta say, it's been a harrowing 48 hours. Granted I was in the throes of a fitful, dreamless sleep for most of the time, but I must say it was the best Kreation Korner b-day we've had this year.
The kommemoration of TKK's second anniversary began sunday morning with a no-host breakfast burrito bar. I went with a scrambled egg-white, chorizo, bell pepper combo with a whole-wheat tortilla. Simple, healthy and not too bad on the taste buds either--but I digress. Any-hoo, after breaking our fasts and grabbing a brief group siesta, we moved on to heavier matter--namely, a "birthday cake" kourtesy of Jawn Steighmeaus that was really just uncooked batter that tasted strikingly similar to Miracle-Gro.
Maybe it was ingesting a generous portion of household fertilizer or perhaps the astonishing 14 cases of Pabst Honorable Mention we collectively washed it down with. More than likely it was the terrifying nexus of the two. All I know is that the entire Kreation Krew sans myself is presently in a great, comatose heap blocking one of the HQ's Francois Truffaut pinball machines. I'm trying not to type too loud lest I stir them from their slumber. Before I sign off, I just want to say thanks from all of us for your devotion and support. Once we all regain lucidity and hose down the place we'll get back to voiding our bowels of top-notch, semi-regular kreativity.
But for now, I think I'll dip over to what remains of the cake bag for some hair of the dog and then rejoin my komrades in the karefree klutches of unkonsciousness.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Poet's Korner

If a man at the wharf
licked my eye
I’d get all mad.
I’d say, “easy on the
cornea, partner!”

He’d attempt to dismiss
it as nothing, but
I’d call bullshit.

When you’re giving a
guy a free carrying-a-
lesson you don’t lick his
eye when he least expects.

It’s bad karma and unhygienic,
not to mention a betrayal
of trust.

I’d recognize the corsair
was bummed ‘cause he only
had one eye but that doesn’t
give him free reign
over mine.

Ask first. I usually say
yes. Otherwise, keep your
salty tongue to yourself,
you impetuous seadog.

xoxo chris peebles xoxo

Friday, September 4, 2009

Komedy Korner

Q: Why did the street mime handcuff the passerby to the heat register in his studio apartment?

A: He wanted a captive audience.

--Svetlana Mendoza