Category: My stories

Adolphus is a kind, sweet old man.
He goes to the Commonwealth Bank every day and brings the lady at the window flowers.
And a stickup note.
The lady smiles, puts all of the cash in a bag, and hands it to Adolphus.
He smiles, tips his hat, and goes across the street to the National Bank.
Where he hands the lady at the window flowers.
And a deposit slip.
Then he goes home and takes a nap.
The lady at the National Bank brings the money back to the Commonwealth Bank.
“See you tomorrow,” she says, with a wink.

Arthur joined the crowd at the shore, staring at the whale that had beached itself and died.
Some kids had gotten up on the whale and had their friends take pictures, but the beast had started to decompose and so they fell through the skin and ended up covered in rotten whale guts.
Instead of hacking the whale to pieces and dragging them back into the water, Arthur suggested using dynamite to blow the thing up.
And they did.
It rained whale guts for five minutes, smashing car windows and mailboxes.
Seagulls and dogs went around gobbling up the offal.

Teddy had a crush on the school nurse.
It started when he scraped his knee and she put a bandage on it.
His heart swooned. (The nurse checked that, too.)
To keep seeing her, Teddy got himself into a lot of accidents.
Or he said he got into a lot of accidents.
The nurse noticed that some of the wounds looked like their were self-inflicted.
She called the principal, and the principal calls Teddy’s parents.
Now, Teddy’s off to the school psychologist.
He’s got a crush on her now.
Makes up all kinds of stories.
Especially about the school nurse.

Walt Disney cut the ribbon himself to open Tomorrowland at Disneyland.
It was meant to be a vision of the future.
Then, the future came… and went.
Some attractions stayed up-to-date, but many didn’t.
And they became Todayland. Then Yesterdayland.
Tomorrowland opened in Florida. And Paris. And Hong Kong.
And those Tomorrowlands aged badly, too.
EPCOT was out-of-date from day one.
Might as well call it EPCOY.
Then, the Obsoletelands became Retro… like Steampunk shows people an alternate steam-driven future.
Too bad the safety technology didn’t get updated.
Ouch. Poor bastard.
You grab the kid’s head, I’ll grab his feet.

Bob Hope took his show to the soldiers time and time again.
He also did NBC specials.
He’d read cue cards while his costars were expected to memorize lines.
It looked disconcerting when he’d talk to an off-camera cue card instead of the other actors.
As he got older, his vision got worse, so he couldn’t read the cards.
And his hearing got worse, so he couldn’t hear the prompts in the earpiece.
At his funeral, the eulogy was read off of cue cards.
While one blank cue card was held by the coffin.
To remind him to remain quiet.

For the most ironic words ever spoken, you have to credit Nellie Connally, the wife of the Texas Governor sitting next to JFK in the limo as they drove through the streets of Dallas.
Crowds cheering. People waving.
The people in the open-top vehicles in the motorcade waving back.
And then, she said those words: “You can’t say Dallas doesn’t love you.”
Kennedy agreed, just as bullets ripped through his body.
You could say that Lee Harvey Oswald was from New Orleans.
And spent time in Russia and other places.
So maybe Dallas loved him, but that crazy jackass didn’t.

Bob Ross was a good painter.
He was also a good presenter and narrator.
An excellent teacher, too. He taught art classes around the country.
Selling his brand of art supplies.
Like a Johnny Appleseed, but with art.
Planting art in so many talented minds.
When not on tour, he painted for 30 series of his television show, all at a grueling pace in a tiny university television studio.
Popular and in demand, but exhausted.
The stress wore him down, made him sick.
The greatest painting of them all, Bob Ross had painted himself in a corner.
Unable to stop.

After the storm, the farmhands found Dorothy in the road.
Bandaging the delirious girl’s head, bringing her home.
The stories she told.
Flying monkeys? Witches?
“Madness,” said the doctors.
She spent the next ten years in one hospital after another.
Always asking about her dog. “Where’s Toto?”
Long ago euthanized by the county.
Her aunt and uncle, crops ruined, lost the farm.
They went out to California, died in the desert.
After she was released, Dorothy would watch for storms.
Running into the winds.
Screaming. Laughing.
They never found her body.
Maybe she made it back to Oz after all?

It’s been a while since Don Domino went on tour.
The band’s all wanting it.
He can fit into his old suit.
Sounds great in the studio and in rehearsals.
But when the promoters and managers come up with a tour plan, Don goes to the bathroom and locks the door.
And he won’t come out.
When people ask him why he does that, Don won’t answer.
They had to take the hinges off of the door to open it, and then Don went to another bathroom and locked himself in.
We’ll just air the rehearsals on pay per view.

Eddie Van Halen never liked the sound and feel of his guitars, so he tore them apart and built his own out of the parts.
Covering it with red, white, and black paint, he dubbed it Frankenstrat.
And it sounded awesome, although a lot of that had to do with the fact that it was Eddie playing it.
Over the years, he’d modify and swap out parts, trying to make it even better.
And yet, his kids say he’d pull it out, play with it a bit, and toss it on the sofa.
Imagine, Arthur doing the same with Excalibur!