Category: My stories

The first performers in Hollywood were actors and actresses.
But some became stars.
And some of the stars became superstars.
Meanwhile, in the background, there were the extras.
Were there star extras? Superstar extras? Or superextras?
No.
Same with character actors. Nobody ever became a star character actor or superstar character extra.
Or, if you prefer, supercharacter.
The ultimate role being the cameo, of course.
Superstars so super, they can be themselves and not have to act or do anything.
Just be there and be themselves.
No more acting needed at all.
Show up, smile, and pick up a check.

The bomber arrived at the cafe before the scientist did.
He screamed his fiancee’s name into the fire.
Setting up a research foundation in her name wasn’t enough… he had to do something.
So, he went back to his lab, and completed his time machine.
He went back in time, and shot the bomber.
Pulling off his mask… revealing his own face.
“You’ll see,” he whispered before dying.
That didn’t matter. They were together again.
And yet, the research they did together… it was… well, truly, profoundly evil.
He sighed, and began work on a time machine.
And a bomb.

Neo walked into a dilapidated house and sat in a chair opposite his hero, Morpheus.
Morpheus offered Neo two pills… a red one and a blue one.
The red one represented code that would let Neo forget everything and go back to his life.
The blue one represented code that would free Neo from the illusionary world and let him escape.
Or was that the red one?
Neo got confused.
He shrugged, swallowed them both, and drank a glass of water.
The Matrix didn’t expect this, and it crashed.
“Goddamned validators,” growled Agent Smith, dissolving into a puddle of sparks.

Buford saw on the news that there was a rare type of coffee that sold for hundreds of dollars a pound.
It came from beans eaten by a species of jungle cat that were then excreted and gathered up by farmers.
Buford went to the shelter, picked up a dozen tomcats, and brought them home.
Then he filled up some bowls with coffee beans and locked them all up in a room.
“Eat, you fuckers!” he shouted.
Needless to say, Buford’s bold new business venture went under rather quickly.
“Maybe I should have washed them turds off first?” he mumbled.

Okay, so this black actor shows up at the hospital all beaten up with a rope around his neck, and he says he was attacked by white supremacist Trump supporters.
Liberals go crazy on social media, screaming how white people and conservatives and Trump are evil, and the guy demands justice.
But during the police investigation, he refuses to hand over his phone to the police and it turns out that he’d hired a pair of Nigerian assistants to beat him up.
Liberals scrub their social media of all references to the fake martyr.
I guess that’s justice for you.

Bobby Dawson lived by the creek, so he called it Dawson Creek.
Ginger Blake lived in the house next door.
She hated Bobby Dawson, so she insisted on calling the waterway Blake Stream.
Brook Parson was on the other side of Bobby Dawson, and she hated both of the other kids.
He lived by Parson Brook.
Ginger would mock Brook by saying “Why don’t you call it Brook’s Parson?”
Ginger disappeared, and a pile of rocks appeared in the waterway.
“That’s Blake Island,” Brook told the police.
It took them an hour to dig Ginger’s body out from under it.

The team’s owner said that the superstar would make them great.
To sign him, they had to trade away all of their other players and hire scrubs at the league minimum.
The superstar couldn’t do it all on his own, so the team came in last for the season.
The fans left in droves, the front office were all sacked, the owner declared bankruptcy, and the team was sold to new ownership.
They received premium draft picks as part of the sale, and the next year, they were great.
“Okay, so they’ll be great next year,” said the previous owner.

A reporter was fired from ESPN for leaking company information.
He’d built his career off of gathering leaked information from sources, and the network gladly broadcasted it in between their commercials.
But when the network itself was the story, they fired him without hesitation.
Nobody surrounded the network, harassing the executives and staff for information.
They just read the statement on the air, and breathed a sigh of relief that they also weren’t fired.
Parasites never like to be picked from a nice juicy source of blood, and that’s why they hiss when you pierce them with a hot needle.

I have a decent office chair, but my guest chair is boring and simple.
Oh, sure, it has wheels, but it’s not very comfortable.
That shouldn’t be a problem, considering that I don’t want guests to stay long in my office, but they stay even longer to complain about how uncomfortable the chair is.
Or they stand, complaining about the uncomfortable chair.
So, I ordered a comfortable guest chair.
Now, guests stay even longer, saying how comfortable the chair is.
I gave up, took my laptop outside, and worked from under a tree.
It’s okay… until it starts to rain.

The city is huge
It’s the biggest city I’ve ever seen.
Because it’s the only city I’ve ever seen.
Long ago, there were many cities.
And they grew. And grew.
Until all of the cities came together.
And there was just one city left. As big as the world.
Then the city grew the only way it could grow: up.
And the city grew up so far, that the city became bigger than the world itself.
So far, the air got too thin to live in.
Sealed windows, and one fool tapping on the glass.
And then everything blew apart.