David Walley

Arms for the Men

06.19.2004 | David Walley | Cultural Affairs | 2 Comments
Unfortunately though, Americans are so product-oriented that they think that love can be standardized like a Big Mac, that each consumer ought to be protected by the OPA (Orgasmic Protection Agency). Cumming has joined the industrial age and has become a consumption measurement like miles per gallon.

The Drugstore Bohemian and the Great Poet

Once upon a time there lived at a small woman's college a Drugstore Bohemian who had a thing about ART, specifically poetry. In her reveries, she fantasized about what it would be like to be a patron and surround herself with great minds speaking great thoughts only to her. When she came into her trust fund, she vowed to start a foundation to support all those great struggling souls, and incidentally get in on the ground floor when the next shining light burst forth.


I jumped at the opportunity to transport some of my New York alienation down to her bungalow in Santa Monica ... She listened and listened and listened while I read and read and read. I was tender, I was intense as pages of manuscript flew out of my mouth and onto the floor in front of us. Of course I liked her, probably because she didn't interrupt me while I rambled.


05.29.2004 | David Walley | Interviews & First Person | 3 Comments
I once lived with a woman for six months more or less because she gave me an Oreo cookie ... I did it despite the advice of my friend who opined that making love to a Jewish girl is like committing incest.

The Feminist Who Thought She Had It All

05.22.2004 | David Walley | Fiction & Fables | 8 Comments
Looking for her husband, she found a note pinned to her boudoir table stating that he was leaving her for a woman who liked to wear garter belts.

How Achmed Lost His Credibility

05.14.2004 | David Walley | Fiction & Fables | 4 Comments
Ryan from the AP, with whom Achmed had a professional relationship, popped his head up to shout a question, but Achmed cut him off: "Poke your head out once more, White Devil, and I'll separate it from your Infidel body," he said companionably. Ryan obeyed, furiously writing up the direct quote while his brains and those of his colleagues boiled in the scorching midday Middle Eastern sun.

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