Category: My stories

Back in high school, I tried out for the school’s marching band.
I wasn’t good at any traditional marching band instrument, such as a trumpet or tuba or slide trombone. I couldn’t even learn how to beat a drum.
“This is going to be impossible,” said the band director. “You’ll need an impossible instrument.”
He pulled open a drawer and lifted a strange twisted triangle that hurt my eyes to look at it.
“Here’s the Penrose,” he said, handing to to me. “Go practice on the stairwell.”
I tapped the triangle and climbed up the stairs… and up… and up…

A werewolf bit George.
Now, George is a werewolf.
He does his best to maintain his condition.
During the full moon, he locks himself in his basement with raw meat.
It’s very expensive, but his insurance company covers the cost.
They didn’t at first.
Luckily, he lives near an executive with the insurance company.
George showed up at the executive’s door with a stack of LOST DOG and LOST CAT posters.
“I’m still hungry,” said George. “You love your wife and kids, don’t you?”
The meat deliveries were approved with one condition.
“Can you please eat my mother-in-law?” he asked.

It’s not easy to write about something different and new every day for over ten years.
That’s why I made a set of writing dice.
Each face has a different word on it.
I shake the dice in a cup and pour them out.
Then, I look at the words, and I let my imagination run free.
Sometimes, the ideas come easily, and other times all I can think about is “dice.”
So, I wander to a nearby craps game, and I lose a hundred bucks.
I’d better write and sell a story quick before the month’s rent is due.

Sylvia cheats on her taxes.
She’s been spending time with Mary’s taxes.
She finds them exciting and romantic.
After all, Mary’s got all those deductions and investments, while Sylvia’s on a simple fixed income.
“It’s complicated!” indeed!
After the fling with Mary’s taxes, Sylvia found a couple on Craigslist that were filing jointly, and they had a fivesome.
They had spreadsheets everywhere!
Sylvia went to night school, got a degree, and became a CPA.
She was doing everybody’s taxes! What a slut!
The fun didn’t last. She got sloppy, her clients were audited.
Now, everybody’s cybering safely with Turbotax.

Back in grade school, there was a contest to see which class could collect the most Campbell’s soup can labels.
My brother took the labels from all of the cans we had.
Mom got mad because she didn’t know what was in each can.
My brother blamed me, and despite my denials, I got spanked.
In the meantime, I ripped off a few dozen labels every time we went to the grocery store.
On the last day of the contest, I turned in my stack.
My class won.
“See, he lied!” said my brother.
And I got spanked again.
Asshole.

The Vorcent arrived in our solar system centuries ago.
They’ve been quietly mining the asteroid belt for construction material and fuel.
Only now, we’ve been able to detect them.
And, I suppose, launch rockets that might pose a threat to them.
So, they sent a delegation, introduced themselves, and offered to help us in exchange for mining rights.
We signed on the dotted line.
Soon after, a Vorcent Planetbuster shattered the moon, and harvester units collected up the useful minerals.
“Should have read the fine print,” said the Chief Negotiator, as another Planetbuster turned towards Earth. “Nothing personal, mind you.”

Because of the weaker gravity, it’s easier to run a marathon on the moon or Mars.
However, neither colony has a single corridor or tunnel that allows for proper marathons.
Running a marathon on a treadmill isn’t Kosher.
And you don’t want to run that distance outside.
So, instead, both facilities have circular corridor arrangements that can be used as running tracks.
There’s no Heartbreak Hill or Broadway on Lunar Loop or Mars Station Perimeter. It’s all flat. And you pass the same offices and living quarters multiple times.
Just make sure that some prankster hasn’t shut a blast door.

Ted’s father needed a pill to get an erection.
The erection that got Ted’s mother pregnant.
And resulted in Ted.
Doctors prescribed pills for Ted’s attention deficit disorder.
And more pills for the resulting stomachaches.
He needed pills for allergies.
And more pills for the side-effects from those pills.
When he broke out with acne, there was a cream for that.
But it was greasy, so he took even more pills.
He needed pills for anxiety.
And pills for a football injury.
Ted had nightmares, and committed suicide.
His body was cremated, put into pills, and given to his friends.

The Big Bad Wolf huffed and puffed, but he couldn’t blow down the house made of bricks.
So, he tried to sneak in through the chimney.
The pigs placed a pot of boiling water in the fireplace, and the wolf fell into it, and he died.
The Council Of American Islamic Relations accused the pigs of murder and Islamophobia.
“Brother Mohammed was a devout Muslim, and pork is forbidden. These filthy Jewish swine are liars.”
The New York Times condemned the pigs. Then, Fox News showed security video backing up the pigs’ story.
(But you know how Fox lies, right?)