Category: My stories

The explorers search for the peppers.
The botanist identifies the peppers.
The agricultural conglomerate seeds the peppers.
The tractor plants the peppers.
The rain waters the peppers.
The farmers grow the peppers.
The migrants pick the peppers.
The truckers haul the peppers.
The factory processes the peppers.
The chemist extracts the peppers.
The manufacturer weaponizes the peppers.
The factory cans the peppers.
The warehouse stores the peppers.
The distributor stocks the peppers.
The armorers hand out the peppers.
The police use the peppers on the migrants.
The migrants wash the peppers from their eyes.
And board the buses back home.

When the pandemic hit and schools were closed, the classes got on Zoom or specialized distance learning apps.
Teachers who were tired of teaching the same stuff to multiple classes a day began to pre-record their lessons and play them back for the classes.
They used the extra time to focus on helping the students with questions or problems with the material.
Students were doing better, and parents figured out which were the good teachers and which were the bad ones, demanding that they be fired.
The unions caught wind of the whole thing, and shut the whole system down.

My mother has a younger sister.
And she’s a thieving, conniving bitch.
Robbed my grandmother blind and sent her broke ass to drain my parents dry.
But I’ve always known she was garbage.
You see, when I was little, her husband repeatedly tried to molest me.
Nobody believed me, and I was punished for lying about it.
Ah, memories.
A year or two later, she divorced the creep and found a new guy.
It turned out that she wanted kids, but her first husband didn’t.
I beg to differ… the guy wanted kids, just not in the way she wanted.

If you keep a device constantly charging, or top it off every night, the battery has a chemical memory to it and will hold less of a charge.
So it’s important to regularly deplete the battery, and then charge it up.
Thankfully, batteries don’t remember when you swear at them when you need a device the most.
If your phone has a healthy battery, the people who find your body at the bottom of the canyon can charge up to call your next of kin.
Who can sell your phone for more recycling value, knowing that the battery is healthy.

Once upon a time, our people built great space ships.
The space ships, they flew so fast. Faster that light.
And we flew between the stars.
So many worlds out there.
But never any civilizations like ours.
Just plants. And some animals.
Nothing intelligent, though.
Just us, in all the universe.
We’re the first. We grew up before anyone else.
So, we spread out to every star.
And we watch and wait.
When a species evolves and grows, it develops tools, language, and…
That’s when we destroy it.
Because existence belongs to us and us alone.
As God made us.

My friend just got a 10 dollar an hour raise as a contractor.
I remember when I was making less than 10 dollars an hour working in a fast food chicken shack.
Heck, I was making eight bucks an hour doing tech support for a cheap webhosting company.
It started as a dialup internet company, and the dialup people treated us like trash.
Until webhosting took off and dialup went away.
These days, anything beyond my basic expenses goes into the 401k, and anything above that goes into investments.
And, no, I don’t eat fast food chicken. Or use dialup.

Every chick I ever fucked became a lesbian.
My first girlfriend, my second girlfriend.
The chick I cheated on her with (the second girlfriend).
All of them became lesbians.
I keep a notebook with all of this.
And every one of them… lesbians.
And, no, they weren’t lesbians before I fucked them.
They were all straight.
But after me, not another guy.
Lesbian all the way.
No, I don’t know why.
My doctor says I’m crazy.
So, I fucked her.
And she became a lesbian.
Her husband wasn’t happy.
About me fucking her.
And turning her into a lesbian, too.

They say that hell half no fury like a woman scorned but now that I’m in hell, I beg to differ. I did a lot lot of scorning, believe you and me. I’ve spent lots of nights sleeping in my car or on the sofa, but they weren’t on fire or covered with sharp spikes. Very sharp spikes. Then there’s all the whipping. And not the good kind that comes from a lady in leather and stilettos. And it really, really smells bad. Did I mention the fire? Everything is on fire. I think even the fire is on fire.

I used to think that the test for being rich would be to be able to go to a website and with only a few clicks have a real live giraffe delivered to your house the next day. A real Live giraffe. But the truth is, giraffes need a safe place to wander around, food, veterinary care. You know, the same as any animal you adopt. Besides, going to a website and clicking things just to get a giraffe delivered. The next day seems rather silly, if you’re rich, that’s the kind of thing you delegate to your butler. Right?

Sometimes I think I should’ve gotten a house closer to the water. And then I see the Pest Control and animal trapper trucks on the street. I asked them what they’ve caught and they’ll say snakes, raccoons and sometimes a baby alligator. I’ve already seen a spider or two in the past two years and one baby snake in the garage so I do the math and try to figure out how much more of that would be showing up uninvited. Then I shru,g put on my shoes, and walk the 10 minutes it takes to get to the pond..