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The Killards Are Coming

Every damn day in Religion Class, Sister Anna Banana yapped about the Soviets revving up to start a nuclear war with the new president, Ronald Reagan. She said after the cities burned to Holy Hell, there’d be something called “nuclear winter” that would kill all... 

Double-Strength Demon Dogs

Fantastic Freddie was the only altar boy from the Red Brick Alley. He was always consecrating Ritz Crackers and trying to make us eat them like communion wafers. He light-fingered incense from the sacristy, and he blessed water from Old Lady Tully’s spigot...

Laser Loop

I couldn’t see over the tall green school bus seat except when we hit a pothole and I bounced up in the air like a Pop-Tart jumping out of a toaster. Nobody at Saint Augie’s could believe I was allowed to go. My first school picnic ever. I was good from the day I handed in my pink...

The Boy Wonder

How the Hell did Jaggerbush get himself up there? He was clawing his way up into the open window above the Science class door like a real-life gargoyle. The blockhead of a wooden mallet stuck out of the back of his Toughskins where his butt crack was. He wore three...

About The Author


Robert Roman grew up in Pittsburgh, PA, where he sold newspapers to cars from a concrete island. Read more→

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  • Robert Roman

My Own Private Ulysses: April Fools Verses Sylvia “Bring It On” Beach

Without her, Ulysses would not have been born.

She wrenched the plump book from the most megalomaniacal mother ever. Poor Mina Purefoy’s “three days bad” labor was smooth as a fresh pint of Guinness in comparison.

A British racing rag, The Sporting Times, published an early review under the headline "The Scandal of Ulysses." This piffle was written by some humorless hump cowering behind the Twitter troll handle “Aramis.” Less musketeer than party-poopeteer.

The stick in mud with a stick up his ass tweeted the Modernist masterpiece was written by a “perverted lunatic who has made a speciality of the literature of the latrine.”

Sylvia hung a huge advertising placard of the pony paper’s April 1st issue above the desk in her indispensable bookshop for all to see. Joke’s on you, Killjoyamis.

Give ‘em Hades, Sylvia!


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