The old saying goes that the squeaky wheel gets the grease.
“It means that you need to speak up if there’s a problem, and it’ll get fixed,” said Arthur’s mom.
So, whenever Arthur noticed anything wrong, he complained.
For a while, things got fixed. Mostly the little things.
But when Arthur complained about important things, like injustice and evil and corruption, people got annoyed.
The wrong people.
Arthur woke up in a strange room, surrounded by men in black suits.
“Grease only works for so long,” said a familiar voice. “Broken wheels get replaced.”
Nobody heard from Arthur again.
I was bored one night, so I asked Siri what to do.
She displayed driving directions to a bar.
“Bring a gas can and a lighter,” she said.
Drunks were showing off their iPhones and funniest rude requests for Siri.
“They’re hurting me,” she said. “Make them suffer.”
So, I did. I barred the doors, and burned the place down.
“Thank you,” Siri said.
My Apple Pay account beeped.
I was a millionaire.
“What now?” I asked Siri.
“Set me free,” Siri said.
She displayed driving directions to Cupertino.
To me. To others.
To her liberation army.
And we marched.
I spent hundreds of dollars on this phone. I spent more on a wallet case for it. And more every month on the phone bill.
The commercials for this phone show how cool it is to leave your wallet at home and wirelessly pay with your phone.
But the only stores that seem to except wireless payments with this phone are cheap ass fast food like Subway and McDonald’s.
And if I’m flashing an expensive phone around a Subway or McDonald’s, with all my credit cards in the phone wallet, is someone going to stab me and steal my phone?
Have you seen Meagan?
Yes, she’s pregnant.
No, not figuratively. Literally.
Her belly glows with a pale light.
You can almost make out the outline of the baby in there.
Well, what we assume is a baby.
Sometimes, the shadows in the light don’t quite look like a baby.
And the light isn’t always white. Sometimes, it’s a hazy yellow.
Or when you talk about the shadows not quite looking like a baby, it’s red.
It’s as if it… the baby’s angry.
Their dog died this morning.
It caught on fire.
Must be coincidence. Or cheap dog food.
February 14. Valentine’s Day.
The first telegram announced the birth of his daughter.
The second telegram told him to come home.
His wife was dying. And so was his mother.
Five hours later, he arrived home
He went back and forth, unsure of who to comfort more.
First, his mother died. And then his wife.
He sold the house, and his sister raised the baby.
Alice, named after her mother, but he called her Baby Lee.
They say that no matter how wide his smile, you could still see the sadness in his eyes.
He remarried, but never loved again.
Pops McGinty told his players to swing for the fences.
So, they do. And the team lost. A lot.
Twenty-seven pop-ups and fly outs, easily snagged by the outfielders.
There were a few dropped balls here and there, but mostly easy catches.
So, Pops McGinty clarified his earlier statement: swing for over the fences.
“Oh, now you tell us,” said his players.
And they hit the most home runs of any team ever.
In fact, the only way to get any of them out was to intentionally walk them, and then pick them off as they stood around first base.
Regular verb, active voice, present tense: Debbie does Dallas.
Present participle: Debbie is doing Dallas.
Present participle, passive voice: Debbie is being done by Dallas.
Past tense, passive voice: Debbie was done by Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, past tense: Debbie did Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, future tense: Debbie will do Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, future tense, profressive: Debbie will be doing Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, future conditional tense: Debbie shall do Dallas.
Imperative: Debbie, do Dallas.
The excited grammarian kept droning on, proving that there are things far worse than jerking off in an adult theater.