Category: My stories

It’s interesting to hear the “I was only joking!” or “I didn’t mean it!” statements coming from celebrities who used “I’m going to move to Canada if Trump wins!” threats as emotional blackmail or emphasis on endorsements.
So, they make an emotional plea, back it up with a threat, and their word is worthless?
If a corporation sponsors their projects or hires this person as a spokesperson, how do they reconcile that this famous person’s words are spiteful and worthless?
I guess that says a lot about the value of product and service endorsements.
Celebrities are not your personal shoppers.

Who did I vote for?
Nobody. I voted for nobody.
Hillary took millions from regimes that want my people dead.
Trump is being cheered by people like David Duke who want my people dead.
Bernie is a self-loathing Jew who took on advisors that want my people dead.
Dr. Jill is a self-loathing Jew who cheered people who want my people dead.
Gary wanted to turn his back on my people and let them die.
Pardon me a moment while I say: fuck you all.
Go ahead. Top that. Make your excuses.
I fucking dare you. Pull my lever, asshole.

Every election, celebrities plead for people to register to vote.
Then, they plead for people to vote.
After a few days, they endorse a candidate and please for people to vote for that candidate.
Then, they insult and berate the people who won’t vote for that candidate.
Finally, they threaten to leave the country if their candidate doesn’t win.
So, when their candidate loses, will they actually leave the country?
I hope so. After all, they’re going to demolish their mansions and build affordable housing for their fans too, right?
No? They’ll just come back in four years?
Selfish assholes.

If it looks like I haven’t written anything, it’s because I’ve been using a brush to paint my writing on a wall that I’ve already painted with the same white paint.
Or I’ve written my story in chalk on a white chalkboard.
Red crayon on a red sheet of paper.
Tossing alphabet noodles into a soup, as they float around randomly.
Or tossing Scrabble tiles back into the bag.
Typing a story without any paper in the roller.
On a typewriter with a worn-out ribbon.
Hear the bell, slap the carriage return, and start again with a fresh new line.

Karbach is a local craft brewery that’s popular with hipsters.
They make all kinds of unusual brews, and their brewpub features unusual entrees and appetizers that go with their eclectic selection of brews around the country.
They’ve been growing quickly, and selling their beer to popular bars and local grocers, but still have problems meeting demand.
So, the ownership struck a deal with the massive beer corporation Anheuser-Busch, who have been buying out popular local brewers, like Goose Island.
Hipster bars reacted by dumping their inventory of Karbach and cancelling their orders.
The beer may taste smooth, but their reputation is spoiled.

Jared loved planes.
He studied hard, got a pilot’s license, and took flying lessons.
He talked it all the time.
He saved up his money, and he finally bought his own plane.
He was so proud of it. Told everyone.
Offered to take friends and coworkers for rides.
Signed up for a weekend fair where pilots take kids up for airplane rides.
But on the day he took delivery of his plane, he crashed it, and he died.
They say he died doing what he loved.
I just wonder what would have happened if…
Best not to think about it.

I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth.
Oh, sure, when I was a fetus in my mother’s womb, I had a silver spoon in my mouth.
But surgeons performed pre-natal surgery on me to remove the silver spoon before I was born.
Then, I was born without a silver spoon in my mouth.
As for the silver fork up my ass and the silver knife in my ear, well, the coroner assumed that Mother tried to steal a place setting from a fancy restaurant.
If only she had a coat with large deep pockets, I’d have lived.

I knew a chef who’s dream it was to start his own restaurant.
He worked hard, and one day, he opened his restaurant.
And died of a heart attack because of stress.
I knew another guy who had a dream to fly his own plane.
He worked hard, and one day, he bought and flew his own plane.
And died in a crash.
Everyone I know who has a dream eventually achieves it, and then dies from it.
So, I try not to dream.
But when I do, I tell people to thwart my lifelong dreams.
I’m gonna live forever.

See no evil, a monkey’s paws cover its eyes.
Hear no evil, a monkey’s paws cover its ears.
Speak no evil, a monkey’s paws cover its mouth.
Smell no evil, a monkey’s paws cover its nose.
Fart no evil, a monkey’s paws cover its butt.
Fuck no evil, a monkey’s paws cover its crotch.
Admit no evil, a monkey’s paws cover its crimes.
Feel no evil, a monkey’s paws cover its feelings.
Owe no evil, a monkey’s paws cover its bills.
Think no evil, a monkey’s paws covers its thoughts.
Browse no evil, a monkey’s paws covers it’s computer screen.