Thursday, April 30, 2015

Conversation over drinks...

Before we go any further into this evening, I want to say for the record: I do occasionally turn into a wolf.

It’s not often, every month or so, but it does happen and, in the interests of full disclosure I thought it might be best to bring it up now, at the start of the evening, so that I don’t have to bring it up later and cause you to think I might have in any way misled you.

Once every month or so I turn into a wolf and run, naked and free, through the woods out back of my house. By morning I’m myself again, though a version of myself that is frequently covered in blood and stuffed with raw meat, and the rest of the time I go about a completely ordinary life.

This has been happening since last summer, during which I was bitten by a wolf whilst on a camping trip with a few friends from work, and while initially it was a terrifying experience to be sure, once I realized what was happening provisions could be made to get the situation under control, and I think I approached my new circumstance with a clear-headedness that I rightly deserve to be proud of.

Every problem, after all, can be dealt with if you approach it clear-headedly. I’ve always believed this, and to this point in my life it’s always proved true.

Overall, the situation has been challenging, but ultimately very manageable, and after nearly a year of changing into a wolf with the cycles of the moon I’m confident enough that I have it under control that I decided the time had come to date again.

Hence the OKCupid account. Hence the two of us, here, now.

I know this is a little heavy to spring on you during a first date, but I honestly do believe that no relationship can be expected to work if there isn’t honesty between the people involved, and this IS an important part of my life, so I’m getting it all out in the open in the hopes that you’ll understand and find it in yourself to look past it. I do turn into a wolf once a month. It’s not ideal, but hopefully it’s not a deal-breaker for you. And even if it is something you don’t think you can handle, it’s better for me to tell you now rather than wasting both of our time on something that obviously won’t work out. I’m in my thirties now; I’m done apologizing for who I am. I like me and I want the person I’m with to like me too.

So yeah, I turn into a wolf during the full moon, and I probably always will. That’s just me. Deal with it.

After all, if I’m going to be a wolf, I can at least be a self-aware-wolf…

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Weekly Prompt Story: Anchor

Drop the Anchors
By Christopher Munroe

Anchors away?

Never! And to hell with anyone who’d suggest such a thing!

To hell!

There’s an anchor crisis here, at home! Right in our own backyard there are no anchors, unless you live near a shipyard in which case maybe, but what about the people who DON’T live near shipyards? What about them?

Yet some would send our anchors away? Never! An anchor in every garage! I believe in anchors for everyone, and nothing’s stopping us but our own unwillingness to act!

So act we shall!

Something something, and let’s set course to this bold, new, anchorful future, together!

Friday, April 24, 2015

...on Freshness.

We claim that we’ve changed, that we’ve grown.

We claim to have learned from the mistakes of the past, to be better people than once we were, stronger people, people more willing to step up on our own behalf and do what’s right, rather than what’s easy.

And yet, time and time again, we find ourselves repeating the same self-destructive patterns that have so many times brought us low, reliving the same roles we’d struggled so mightily to escape, burning ourselves upon the same pyres, each time screaming: “This time will be different!”

I, for example, ate at Subway the other day.


I swore I never would, swore I knew better, but I hadn’t eaten in nearly thirty-six hours and it was the only place nearby with a vegetarian option so, seeing no choice other than going hungry, I went inside.

They have avocado, now, which makes things taste like avocado, I figured this might make for some improvement.

And it did, my sandwich did taste like avocado.

Avocado, and regret.

Regret, as each bite turned to ash in my mouth, that I could so easily forget those promises I’d made to myself after the last time I’d choked back a Subway sandwich, regret at the choices both made and unmade that had led me to that moment, regret at having gone thirty-six hours unfed that I might stoop so low, regret at not going thirty-six more if need be to avoid such wretched sustenance.

Yes, I was consumed with regret.

And so was my sandwich.

And, as I finished and walked out of Subway, feeling used and ashamed, I promised anew that, this time, I would learn from history so as not to repeat it, that I would know better for next time, would make better choices, would avoid such a pitiful excuse for a meal.

But in my heart I know I won’t.

Because I’m no better at self-care than ever I was and, some day, perhaps not soon but some day, in a moment of weakness, against my better judgment, I’ll find myself in a Subway sandwich restaurant anew, replaying the same stories that have, over the years, come back to torment me time and again.

And so will you.

We all will.

It’s inevitable, because in our hearts we are weak, we are foolish, we value convenience above all else, and thus we find ourselves time and again eating Subway in spite of the fact that other food exists…

Because this weakness is fundamental to us, it is at the very center of the human experience, and none who live can escape it.

Still, others have it worse than I, I suppose.

After all, SOMEBODY is keeping Arby’s in business…

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Weekly Prompt Story: Let's Create a Pantheon

On Matters of Faith
By Christopher Munroe

I don’t need to create a God, one’s been provided.

Dionysus, God of theatre, music and drinking. He covers all the bases I need, and he’s incredibly easy to worship!

When I’m at a bar, he’s with me, when I open my mouth to let music out into the world, he’s there. Every act of worship is a celebration, every celebration an act of worship.

Sometimes I go door-to-door, drunk out of my mind, to preach his gospel.

The results are rarely positive.

Police have been called more than once.

Still, other than that, Dionysus has been very rewarding, deity-wise…

Thursday, April 16, 2015


Nothing in this world is more important than friendship.

Your friends, after all, your true friends, are the ones you’ll need through your life, the ones who’ll always be there for you, the ones you can truly count on. And that’s a valuable thing, perhaps the most valuable thing in the world.

That’s the power of friendship.

I know who my best friend is, for example, because he gave me a kidney.

It wasn’t his, and I didn’t need a kidney, and the less we think about where he got it the better off we’ll be, but still, it was an incredibly thoughtful gift. And nicely wrapped, to boot.

Wetly wrapped, soggily really, but nicely.

And it was wonderful to receive, very much appreciated. I still have it, mounted to my wall as a conversation piece.

A profoundly disturbing, probably illegal conversation piece.

I can’t take it down.

I wouldn’t want him to think I didn’t appreciate his gift, after all.

I wouldn’t want him to think I don’t value his friendship.

After all, the man harvests kidneys…

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Weekly Prompt Story: Pan

A Life Lived with Style
By Christopher Munroe

I go through life with grace and aplomb.

Grace and aplomb, in case you didn’t know, is like swagger for people who AREN’T reprehensible douche-bags.

There’s a poise to it, a style too absent from this vulgar modern age, and I’ve made it my personal mission to restore that indefinable quality, that dignity, that It Factor, to all my dealings with the world.

Panache, I suppose you could call it. Or quiet, elegant dignity.

And dignity has always been my watchword.

No, wait, I misspoke, that doesn’t describe me at all. I’d meant the opposite of every part of that…

Friday, April 10, 2015



I know that it’s been more than a year since we’ve spoken, and given the circumstances surrounding the end of our relationship I imagine that I’m the last person you’d want to hear from. Trust me, I don’t relish this any more than you do, if I could avoid speaking to you the rest of my life I would do so gladly, but unfortunately that option isn’t open to me.

I’m forced by circumstance, you see, to get back in touch with you, because I’ve received some news that you, whether you like it or not, both need to know and deserve to hear from me, so as not to have it come to you through the grapevine. So, while this communication is no doubt unpleasant for the both of us, I hope that you will grit your teeth and suffer through this letter, as I have gritted mine and written it.

One of my exes, you see, has recently given birth to a baby.

I was with her before you and I ever met, I’m not sure you and she even know each other frankly, but the fact remains, I was with her, then I was with you, and now she has a baby.

And, as you know, babies are sexually transmitted.

She’s not sure when she contracted baby, exactly, but as she is a generally responsible person she’s made it known to everyone she’s ever been intimate with that the baby had been born, so that we might know and respond accordingly. While she and I were together we always did our best to be safe, but no form of protection is 100% effective and there’s a small chance that she may have passed her baby along to me.

I have a test scheduled to find out for certain, one way or the other, and I’m contacting you, as well as everyone else in my sexual history, to inform you that you ought to schedule one yourself. This might be nothing, obviously, it’s probably nothing. I haven’t been sexually intimate with her in years and if I had passed a baby on to you chances are that by this late date you’d be showing some symptoms, but still you deserve at least a heads up so as to take appropriate steps.

Get tested at your earliest convenience, and alert whatever men or women you may’ve slept with since me that there is a small chance that you’ve given them baby. As I mentioned, it’s probably nothing, but better safe than sorry, and the sooner you get tested the sooner you can have peace of mind about the issue, assuming you aren’t with child.

And, if you are, I’m deeply, deeply sorry. Our breakup was enormously painful, the blood between us is bad, I acknowledge that freely, but nonetheless it was never my intention to afflict you thusly. I do not, frankly, like you. I do not think you are a good person. But in spite of all that transpired between us, I would never wish a baby on you in even my darkest, angriest moments. But even if the worst-case scenario proves to be true, take heart. Medical science and societal attitudes toward people with babies have come along way in recent years and, while the prospect might seem horrific, this is not the end for you even if I DID somehow manage give you a baby.

Many people with children nowadays, approaching things with the right attitude and appropriate support, go on to lead rich, fulfilling lives….

Sunday, April 5, 2015

Weekly Prompt Story: Pen

On Pens
By Christopher Munroe

You can’t OWN a pen.

They’re like butterflies that way. Or disposable lighters. They don’t BELONG to anyone, they simply are. They’re out in the world, existing, and while one might stay with you for a while, the time will inevitably come when it must move on.

Somebody will borrow your pen and, thoughtlessly, it will be put in that  person’s pocket, never to be seen again.

And, when that comes, there’s nothing you can do to prevent it. It’s pointless to try.

Just say goodbye to your pen, remember the time you and it shared fondly, and move on…

Friday, April 3, 2015

Convention Plans

I intend to organize, in the near future, a gathering of like-minded Trekkies for a weekend-long celebration of the second, and best, of the Star Trek films. Over the course of the weekend the film will be shown, its fans can meet and greet one another, a cosplay contest will be held and forums on topics related to the making of the film will be well attended.

Shatner will be there. So will Takei.

While this is occurring in the convention hall, a Trek-themed fairground, complete with carnival rides, roller coasters, a ferris wheel and what have you, will be taking place in what outdoor space is available. It is here that the Chili cook-off will take place, with free meals at all hours of the day for any attendees who might find themselves hungry.

And then on Sunday, to cap things off, a kick-line of French dancers, each in a sexy replica of a Star Trek bridge-crew uniform, will perform an interpretive dance in tribute to the film. It will be magical.

I will charge $50 for a weekend pass and everyone will agree that, considering the amount of entertainment that I’m claiming will be available, this price is very reasonable. Tickets will quickly sell out.

Then I will take all the money raised, put it in my pocket and, quietly, skip town, never to be seen again.

THIS is my Wrath of Khan Con Con-Carne Carnie Can-Can Con, and my hope is that people will be amused enough by the bit not to notice that I’ve robbed them…