Category: My stories

Okay, so the president said that maybe people should be drinking and injecting bleach to cure the virus.
But he said this mockingly after reporters kept asking stupid questions.
The odd thing is, some people actually did inject and drink bleach.
And they got horribly sick and died.
Are people that blisteringly stupid and gullible?
Maybe this should be taken as an opportunity to cull those genes out of the population?
Tell people that jumping off of buildings cures the virus. Setting themselves on fire.
Or, something more productive, like not watching these ranting and hyperbolic idiots on network television.

Long ago, there were so many drive-in theatres.
Drive up, tune in the radio to the special station, or take the speaker off of the post and put it in your car.
One by one, they shut down.
And then the virus came.
Wash your hands, wear masks, social distancing.
So, the drive-ins came back.
We hide in our cars, eating the bags of popcorn and drinking the sodas we brought with us.
Okay, fine. We brought beer and wine.
And we watch the old movies on the screen.
Because nobody’s making any new ones.
With the virus and all.

We spend billions and billions of dollars to build the probe.
So many tests and fixes and re-tests.
Hauling it up to the rocket and fitting it.
Launching it, and slingshotting it from planet to planet.
Parking it in orbit with the gentlest and most cautious braking rocket thrusts.
Success! Success!
We all cheer!
Time to work.
It takes 90 minutes for commands to reach the probe.
And 90 minutes for confirmation to return.
A billion miles away, we wait for the images to appear.
Black. More black. Endless black.
Only then do we realize… nobody took the lenscap off.

They were a strange barbershop quartet.
All four men were bald.
And not clean-shaven bald, but patchy and scruffy bald.
With unkempt beards and mustaches, looking like savages and wildmen.
They couldn’t sing.
They screamed and hollered and shrieked.
There was no musical quality to what was coming out of their mouths.
They also varied in numbers.
Only rarely were there four of them.
Three, Five, Two, Twenty… who knew how many of these strange men would show up to yell and moan together.
The barber called the asylum to pick up their patients.
My how the butterfly nets flew!

My moose is a very bad moose.
I won’t just leave my moose at the pound.
So he ends up someone else’s bad moose.
A cycle of badness, not good for the moose.
Or let him loose.
A bad moose on the loose?
Very bad.
So, I took him to moose school.
To learn to be a better moose.
The best instructors teach at moose school.
Moose experts, each and every one.
They teach moose to be better moose.
They use the latest moose teaching techniques.
None of them are abusive.
Abused moose are bad moose.
And they never learn.

The great thing about this lockdown is that I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.
I used to get spam from Ticketmaster, promoting concerts and sports events and local art shows.
And the restaurant guides would fill my inbox with so many places to eat.
Sometimes, I’d think about one or two of them.
Maybe even look them up on a map.
No, I never went to any of these.
Never had the heart to unsubscribe from the mailers, either.
Because, what if… maybe… nah.
Who am I kidding?
Now that everything is closed down, the lists went mercifully silent.

It’s been a while since someone knocked on the door to my office and walked in anyway.
No waiting for me to say come in. Or to say I’m busy with something.
Or them asking what I’m working on.
It never ends well.
Now, I’m working from home. Everyone is working from home.
We’re connected via a Slack messaging platform.
So, they now ping me with a message of “Hi.”
Not what they need. Just a “Hi.”
It’s bait. So I wait.
Eventually, they ask for what they need.
“Thinking. I’ll get back to you on this.”
Maybe I will.

The dentist gives out lollipops to all the kids.
Grape, cherry, strawberry, bubblegum.
It doesn’t matter what flavor, really.
They all have that little special extra ingredient.
One that rots kids teeth.
Not sugar. They’re sugar free.
But there’s an enzyme that promotes bacteria growth and inhibits calcium production.
So their teeth practically melt away.
And the only thing that can stop the rotting?
The dentist. Frequent, painful visits to the dentist.
Then, an assistant talked to the cops.
They found her in the empty office, mouth stuffed with lollipops, with a toothless grin.
Or was it a silent scream?

I had my rolling laundry hamper for years.
It wore out, and I needed a new one.
So, I got another one. A round one with little wheels.
Which, after a month, broke easily.
So, I got another.
It had flimsy support rods in the sides.
So, I got another.
And another.
And another.
They all were broken easily.
Then, I got a folding beverage wagon.
The kind that you use on the beach for ice and drinks.
And I got plastic laundry baskets to stack in it.
It works great. When I can keep the cats out of it.