November 2011
1 post
Foiled again!
The octopus sat limp on the floor. Tentacles splayed across tiles. Martin looked at it, then, with a shrug of his shoulders, reached down, grabbed the octopus by it’s squishy head and tossed it back into the fish tank. He shook his head in bewilderment. “Every damn day,” he muttered.
June 2011
1 post
Rhymes with...
I don’t think SnowJob Inc will convey the right message to your customers.
Why? When I hear SnowJob I immediately think: snow removal service.
Um… it kinda sounds like…
Someone who gets the job done when it snows!
The snow removal job?
Why are you not getting this?
Nevermind.
July 2010
1 post
Me time
I watched a video of cows today. They were dancing and multiplying. It was odd. I didn’t know why I was watching it. It just sorta came on. I guess it amused me in some way. Although, I spend very little time with cows. I’m really, really bored.
June 2010
7 posts
Pet Dino Warning Label
Be warned:
Your new Pet Dinosaur is no fun to clean up after and hard to potty train. Also, many pet dinosaurs make poor cuddling companions.
Your chances of death by suffocation, disembowelment, blunt force trauma, traumatic asphyxia, loss of blood due to loss of limb all increase about 94%.
Guys night out
The guys wanted a fun, outrageous night out, but had neither girls to meet, nor alcohol to be consumed. Board games proved lame, movies had been seen before, and no one took up Henry’s idea of streaking the neighborhood. So, in desperation, they opted, naturally, for human sacrifice. Sorry, Henry.
At the Open Door Clinic...
He called his parole officer a jerk, scratched at his ankle bracelet. The next guy detailed his gang tattoos. Another explained that he wasn’t actually trying to hit the man he had been shooting at.
For my turn, I spoke of getting caught in the park with a joint.
Like the Old Man and the Sea
He lived in a little hut by the beach. Ate raw fish. Sipped rainwater from a barrel. Wove figurines from palm fronds. Had leathery skin, blotches of cancer. Never went into town, but was leader of the local Hemmingway book club, which met and drank wine coolers every Tuesday night.
the announcement
Girls, I’m pregnant!
Awww good for you!
No, it’s terrible, it was totally unexpected!
Awww that stinks!
I don’t even know who the father is!
Awww a surprise!
I think I’ll just get an abortion!
Yay! We’ll make tea!
[sound of vomiting]
Whee! Doctor’s visit!
Obit.
DECEASED: Ted Mickel, age 45. He leaves behind a loving wife, Molly. Ted served his family and country with conviction. He was an exemplary officer for the Orange county police department, who should not have eaten such a huge bite of prime rib without teaching his wife the Heimlich maneuver.
on writing
I believe that proper grammar and prose do not represent the only way to produce good writing. I believe that most readers do not know as much as we presume they know.
I am firm in my beliefs.
I am also a bitch who gets defensive when he is criticized.
May 2010
20 posts
Munchies are bad for you.
The vending machine stuck. Fritos hung dangling from the coil. Shake, shake. The dollar insert slot was taped over. She was out of change, save for two nickels. Shake, shake. Shake, shake, shakeshakeshakeshake! A coworker walked by and slammed her face, nose first, into the machine. Blood gushed. Fritos fell.
Stupid crap kids find cool.
Repeated poop jokes.
Hide and seek.
Hanging scribble on a refrigerator and calling it “art”.
Crayons.
Collecting smoothed rocks.
Hanging upside down.
Poking people in the ass with chopsticks.
Watching the same episode of the same show every day of the week.
Relay races.
Screaming in a high pitch.
Adults.
Wanderlust
Hurgot, King of all Gypsies, stood and spoke to the crowd. His impassioned speech lasted exactly fifteen hours, forty-two minutes and seventeen seconds. He raised his fist passionately. Jowels shook with vigor. Finally, he stopped and bowed with a flourish. The crowd had wandered on to the next town.
Deny, Deny, Deny.
Silence.
“Honestly babe, I swear, she means nothing to me. Nothing! It’s just that you’ve been busy lately, and I’ve been super lonely, and, and… She understands me! But, that’s all!”
Silence.
“I’m serious!”
Silence.
“Ok, fine. I fucked her. But, I’m really sorry!”
It's not like I'm fucking rich either...
He found a credit card on the ground. Used it at the local drugstore. Next, the local supermarket. No questions asked. He didn’t care about the card’s owner. He couldn’t afford to. He couldn’t afford anything. He couldn’t afford to live. He’s still a sonofabitch.
-^-^-^---^-----^---------.
An itch, a scratch. He flicked his toes. Had a beer. Paced the room. Typed, then deleted. Imagined an theme, a character, a setting; nothing. Stared out window; inspiration caught the nearest breeze out to sea. This time he paced in circles. Played music. Still nothing came. A brain flatline.
Washington Ave on a Thursday Night
Florescent lights and a humid breeze. Couples intertwined on sidewalks, against buildings, along a wall. High skirts, high bums, high hopes. An eddy of tourists and locals. Promoters, panhandlers, prostitutes. Taxis, bikes, the occasional muscle car. The smell of food, sweat and exhaust fumes. Blaring music. Fashion, flirting. Meandering masses.
Who Flung Poo?
The baboon charged and ran behind a tree. The chimps saw this and screeched in hysterical disapproval. Suddenly, a gorilla pounded its chest and a monkey swung down from an overhanging vine. An orangutan sucked a termite off a stick. The zookeeper laughed maniacally, rattling keys; separate cages my ass!
Sweet Dreams
At night I nuzzle into the soft, gentle fabric of my bedsheets, in a fetal spooning position with plush squeezable goodness. My sheets caress me. Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, I find myself intimately intertwined with my pillows, resulting in an unexpected state of down-feathered arousal.
What was he looking for again?
The mason jar held memories tightly sealed inside. He found it buried deep within the closet of repression. When he opened the jar and tried to drink the memories, they spilled out in rainbow plumes, too many to drink at once, and bled into the carpet and out of mind.
Tragedy in Rhyme
Chicken fell from the sky, but could not fly. I watched it through my one good eye. It tried to fly and botched it. I began to cry as I watched it. Bird spun as it fell; tears started to well. Twirling round to the ground where it would die.
Tipping when you're poor.
“Hey man, you only left me a $3 tip.”
“So? You’re a bartender, I ordered three rounds of drinks.”
“It was a fifty-five dollar tab.”
“So, you’re calling me out? I tip a dollar per round.”
“Was the service that bad?”
“Was it that good?”
“Asshole.”
“Asshole.”
Ode to Tater-Tots
Golden-brown, and round. A crispy cylinder. Crunchy outside hiding bits of soft starchy goodness within. Can be dipped in ketchup, mayonnaise. Warm smelling. Piping hot inside. IF THEY DROP TO THE GROUND: DO NOT EAT THEM! You may get dirt in your mouth; they will not taste the same.
Close call
The bike hummed along the side streets. Rain fell in a heavy stream. Past dumpsters, scattered alley cats, shriveled bums in rags. Water pooled in growing puddles, streams fell from corner roof gutters. The headlights shone bright ahead. It was too slick to stop. The car veered away. He exhaled.
The vehicle careened along at 90 miles per hour...
Screeching tires. Hot rubber streaks on pavement. Cue fireball explosion. Plumes of thick black smoke. A harrowing chase over scorched earth. The disgruntled, maniacal, expressions of perpetrators contrasting the static gapes of bewilderment on the faces of the globular bystanding masses. High-pitched guttural shriek. Gunfire ensues.
An adrenaline nirvana.
The 28th one.
As I get older, I find _____ are more fun when they belong so someone else. True, _____ are a part of life; we all have _____. But, since I have _____, and you have _____, one could argue that _____ aren’t all that special anyways. Regardless, I’m still looking forward to celebrating mine.
Run-on Dali
Sweat trickles down breast onto extended antelope leg, burdened by a clock, dripping beds of ants, scuttling across sand, past manic elephant stilt legs, as clouds morph into faces, whose tiger smiles, glint sunlight, which fades into shadow towers, wispy strands enshrouding eyelashes of hog-man’s angular feet along seabed.
Workweek Mindset
Monday: morning coffee, lunch at 2, home to watch tv. Tuesday: morning coffee, lunch at 2, video game night. Wednesday: morning coffee, lunch at 2, easy chair and book. Thursday: morning coffee, lunch at 2, evening run. Friday: happy hour at 6pm, happy hour at 6pm, happy hour at 6pm.
Fasting is Stupid
My tummy is growling. I haven’t eaten all day. There is food around the house, but I will not eat it. My body is but a vessel. My mind is strong. I am doing this to show that I have discipline, that I have faith. I feel kinda dizzy.
Mini Cult
The kids gathered in a circle. The oldest was six. One by one, they each took turns. When everyone had finished their juice, they lay down, closed their eyes and waited for the spaceship to come take them to heaven. That was when Gina peed her pants, and ruined everything.
April 2010
11 posts
Primal Instinct
Riley smoked behind Walgreens. She named the local cat Miggles. She gave cigarettes to the bum near the dumpster. He had liquor breath; asked for food money. She never gave him any; he was a drunk. She hadn’t seen Miggles in awhile. The bum had stopped asking for food.
"Honey, I'm Home..."
It was an odd fetish; Mark paid her well for it.
She entered the room, a pink human bunny.
He spat on her, called her names.
Her indulgence, his ecstasy.
He got rough; she fell limp.
How do you explain to your wife that you’ve just killed a hooker?
Not So Suave...
It wasn’t something he necessarily meant to do. But, everytime he played soccer, he managed to take a girl out. It just kind of happened. Still, this last time was bad. He slid, took her out hard, and had to carry her off the field with a swollen ankle.
Williamsburg
Young hipsters. Dominating Brooklyn. With their fedora hats, ironic beards, smart ties. He cracked another PBR. Thought about the new MGMT song. Society thinks in angular lines, he thought. Better to be the arc. The bartender liked his new tattoo. He spit on the floor just to be that guy.
Snowed-in
Snow fell rapidly, thick on the empty road. Trucks, adorned with chains on their tires, plowed in a white haze. Along the guardrail was densely packed slush, eight feet high.
Inside his Honda, Gerard honked the horn. Another plow drove by, unknowingly encasing the Honda under another foot of snow.
Happily Ever After
Eat, shit, sleep, maybe die. Time blends unto itself; hours become minutes. A rattle of keys, smoker’s cough. Stale bread, saltless meat, sour milk. The long shadows of the bars. Initials carved into stone. Once upon a time memories. Once upon a time friends, lovers. Once upon a time, life.
Inspiration > Nostalgia
Johnny traded his records for cassettes, then traded his cassettes for CD’s, then traded his CD’s for Mp3’s. When his apartment flooded, his computer crashed and his old collections were ruined. He decided the only thing left to do was sing, play guitar, and make some music of his own.
Misunderstood?
Mike drove a hotdog truck. Alone, he’d nervously squeeze his penis. The boy bought hot dogs from the truck while his mother sat in her car. When she decided to have a hotdog herself, she caught Mike with his hand down his pants. Mike now drives an ice-cream truck.
Plan B
Every year, the same routine. Take Bobby to Chinatown for supplies, pay off Sargent Fergus, blockade the cul-de-sac with cars, place fire extinguishers near the make-shift stage, commence the show. This year, we couldn’t find fireworks, so Bobby fired his shotgun into the air and nearly hit a goose.
Oops!
Brad bought a knife. A six-inch blade with a leather-bound handle. He tested it’s weight by flicking and catching it. He practiced daily. Toss, catch, repeat. His father knew this and should not have punished him for killing Maurice. There was no juggling at the fair anymore.
Testing, ahem. One, two.
This is me trying to see if this works. Each Story here will consist of exactly fifty words.