I thrifted a dingo from a local wildlife sell-off emporium; the fella had a cartridge for a brain. Wild this dingo was not, likely built by an animal replicator to decorate the grasslands, pre-programmed to bark at sudden movements. I took out the cartridge with care, blew into it and replaced it. The only change … Continue reading Inanimate Dingo Friend
Now that I’ve achieved all my hopes and dreams, even the ones that had been abandoned at previous times of weakness, I can finally settle down and write a good book or two. After all, people like me need to display their success and offer a way for others to enter that picture, even if … Continue reading A Good Book or Two
Forty-five dollars is a somewhat outrageous price for this vintage cigarette case. It doesn’t even have any bells or whistles to sweeten the deal, just a spring hinge and a picture of a schooner. I’m not what you would call a boating enthusiast, I’d just be getting it for the kitsch factor. Hell, I don’t … Continue reading The Kitsch Factor
When inspiration fails to strike, don’t give up on pursuing the elusive beast known as creativity. It may be hiding in the bushes just behind you, waiting to pounce when you’re least suspecting, poised on its haunches and not daring to make a sound. As you stumble around, creativity is looking for any excuse to … Continue reading It May Be Hiding
I kicked over the iced tea purely by accident and along came a mole man, or a man made of moles, I can’t quite recollect much these days anyway. What with the internet and all, there’s so much to be discussed, or discus-ed, tossed into the breeze and left on a whim without the cream … Continue reading Purely by Accident
Why should a couch matter when all we need to do is unearth the twelfth installment of a well-read publication from before the dawn of the internet? Sitting is the last thing we should be contemplating. Even contemplating the idea of contemplating sitting is boring as all get-out.
A fleeting expanse of dandelions doesn’t know it’s considered an urban nuisance, a weed factory in the heart of civilization. It rolls through grass and paints a yellow picture of the past landscape, now foreign.
What we need is some kind of feather boa situation, where donning such a garment would be considered a boost to morale in this organization, especially since we’re so concerned with increasing sales of pinecone-inspired trinkets to be displayed prominently in the home.
Turgid turtles take their time trying to tell tall tales, traipsing through tricky topics.
I marked my mattress on both sides, heads and tails. I know with 100% certainty which side will come up when I flip it, rendering probability a thing of the past.
When you behold the average sidewalk banana, you wonder if it’ll bounce when you throw it against the ground. But you dare not touch the fruit; who knows where it’s been? If you were braver, you’d pick it up and eat it.
Do these people even care that their sole reason for existence is to make sandwiches for their so-called benevolent overlords? I wonder if an impartial observer has ever mentioned this to them, to make them think of alternatives for living. For example, instead of making sandwiches, they could be making wind chimes or clay vases. … Continue reading Sandwiches Are Nice
The car door could use some WD-40. Hell, my knees could use some WD-40 while we’re at it. You’re probably not the right person to grease up my joints, you just work on cars. Do you know a guy who could fix me up with a minimally-invasive procedure of some kind? I really wish my … Continue reading A Guy for That
There are 4,952 channels on TV and zero worth watching at the moment. Twenty minutes ago there were seven decent programs, and in ten minutes there will be another four worth watching. In the meantime, I’m left to my own devices and unable to comprehend anything worth doing. I’m so used to the instant gratification … Continue reading In the Meantime
The peanut butter’s chilly, straight from the fridge. It’s not spreading very well. The more I try to smooth an even surface across the bread, the more crumbs I’m sloughing off (onto the floor). By the time I’m done with this mess, I’ll be lucky to have half the bread I started out with. Then … Continue reading Toast (Now Cold)
I’ve been left alone with a pocket knife and my own thoughts out here. The most productive thing I can do is whittle this stick to have a pointy end (or better yet, two pointy ends). I never got very good at carving, everything just ends up a pointier version of what it once was. … Continue reading A Pointier Version
Thieves made off with our last shred of decency when I was this close to pawning it off to cover the month’s rent.
A pointy spindle poked the sky; it was a particularly tall spindle with a tendency to dislike authority figures, God included.
In accordance with Mr. Tartaroff’s wishes, every member of this baseball team shall perform a pirouette every time he rounds a base, then breakdance to the best of his ability upon crossing home plate. Our sister soccer team is exempt from performing these actions, as Mr. Tartaroff always preferred soccer to baseball if he had … Continue reading Soccer to Baseball
Jimmy, Telly and Cliff stand in front of Jimmy’s open garage, stiff after hauling car parts around. “We need more tambourine,” Jimmy said with exasperation. Telly looked at Jimmy quizzically. “We don’t have a tambourine.” “What kind of a band doesn’t have a tambourine?” “We’re not a band.” Telly snuffed out his cigarette with his … Continue reading More Tambourine
Leave it to a lemur to freeload in your mud bath and skip out without paying the bill. I’m tired of these lemurs sneaking onto my property and using the facilities that I worked so hard to put together. Maybe if they pitched in a few bucks here or there, I wouldn’t be in such … Continue reading Leave It to a Lemur
I’m always on the defensive because I’m afraid. Afraid of what, I never know. I’m just equally afraid of everything. No, wait, that’s a copout. I’m definitely more afraid of certain things than others, like cherry fruit pies as opposed to swarms of bees. I suppose I’m also less afraid of the chicken dance than … Continue reading Equally Afraid
“This town doesn’t have any eggplant! I’m seriously considering leaving. Everybody here’s been suckered in by the big broccoli lobby, with all their damn grant money and infrastructure improvements. What’s the point of new roads, rapid transit and a new high school if you’re giving up your right to eat eggplant, squash, cucumbers, anything that’s … Continue reading Pass the Broccoli