Category: My stories

The doctors all wear white coats.
And white pants. And white shoes.
And white top hats.
They carry white gloves and canes.
And they dance down the halls of the hospital ward.
The nurses dance with them, as they go from patient to patient.
The white sheets. The white walls. The white floors.
Everything is white and fresh and clean.
What’s that? A spot of red?
Blood? BLOOD?
Call for the janitor! And his mops! And pails!
He is not wearing white!
Look away! Look away!
Scrub away the red!
It’s gone?
All is white again… and the dance begins!

Pastor Pete says that if you lose your mittens, you should check the Lost and Found.
What about my virginity? one girl asks Pastor Pete.
If I lose an argument, will it be there? asks a boy.
The whole class got in on the act, and Pastor Pete told everyone to shut up.
“This isn’t philosophy class,” he said. “This is just announcements.”
One day, the Lost and Found vanished.
Nobody knew where it was.
“Is the Lost and Found lost?” I asked. “Is it in the Lost and Found?”
“Yes,” he said, dimming the lights. “Along with your virginity.”

At work, the bathrooms have sensors on the faucets. All you have to do is hold your hands in the sink, and the water flows.
Take your hands out, and the water stops.
I know I’m tired when I hold my hands under the faucet at home, and I wait for water to come out.
“Oh,” I say to myself. “I’m at home.”
I can’t be senile. I’m too young for that. Maybe I’m just tired or something.
Still, there was that time I went to work in my pajamas.
“Pajamas are casual, right?” I said.
I hope it’s Friday.

First, scientists sequenced viral RNA. Then, bacterial DNA.
They worked their way up the evolutionary ladder.
The Human Genome Project sequenced all of the DNA in a human cell’s nucleus.
Decoding the sequence into genes, traits, and mutations was the hard part.
But, with research and testing, scientists found genetic markers and mechanisms for hundreds and thousands of diseases, like cancer and Parkinson’s.
In some cases, they found cures. In others, unexploited vulnerabilities.
Around the clock, armed guards surround a secret vault that contains… the cure to the ultimate biological weapon.
And if the ransom is paid, we’ll share it.

Captain Ahab wasn’t always a captain, you know.
He started as a simple deckhand, swabbing the deck, and chasing a white mouse around with his mop.
They promoted him to the galley, where he spent most of his time chasing white rats around with a carving knife.
Eventually, he made first mate, where he excelled in saying “Aye aye, Captain!” a lot.
He wasn’t so good at passing along orders, though.
“Turn away from that big white whale!” shouted the captain.
“Aye aye, Captain!” said Ahab, leaning on a rail.
And that’s how he lost his captain.
And his leg.

Instead of asking whether chickens or eggs came first, people should ask whether tomato soup or grilled cheese sandwiches came first.
I think it was the grilled cheese sandwich. And for centuries, people would go around, dipping their sandwiches in things, searching for the perfect combination.
Perhaps that was what Marco Polo did, seeking out the perfect dip for sandwiches.
Or Christopher Columbus. Or Sir Francis Drake.
On second thought, people going around with pots of soup, looking for things to dip in it makes more sense.
Thomas Edison claimed that he invented both, but Edison was a total dick.

Marionettes hate puppets.
Dolls hate marionettes.
Action figures hate dolls.
Toys hate action figures.
Robots hate toys.
Drones hate robots.
Androids hate drones.
And I hate them all.

What am I?
I’m human. The last human.
Before, life was good.
I watched it all from my puppet-boy shelf, the shelf my father put me on.
But one night, I made a wish.
To be real. And the damned Blue Fairy granted my wish.
Just as she granted every inanimate object’s wish: dolls, toys, robots…
Oh, the chaos.
“See what you did, Pinocchio, you naughty boy!” were my father’s last words.

Ted runs the coffee shop.
Every Thursday is Coffee Adventure Day, when he brews coffee from all around the world.
You can get a flight of coffee, and as you sip them, he’ll tell you the story of each coffee.
Mary runs the tea shop.
Every Tuesday is Tea Adventure Day, when she brews tea from all around the world.
You can get a flight of tea, and as you sip them, she’ll tell you the story of each tea.
Me, I run the bar.
I pour whatever the people want.
And I don’t bore anybody with any fucking stories.

When I booked my last vacation flight, there was a checkbox for buying carbon offsets.
It was only a few bucks, so I checked it.
The next thing I knew, FedEx was dropping weird black bricks off at my door.
“Here’s your carbon!” the deliveryman said. And he made me sign for them.
At first, I didn’t know what to do. I put them in the closet, then the garage, and every available place.
Then, I built a deck. And then repaved my sidewalk and driveway.
Maybe I’ll fly around the world and build a new room on the house.

I’ve seen whole milk, skim milk, buttermilk, condensed milk, 2% milk, and 1% milk.
But what about other percentages?
Is 0% milk air?
And what about 100% milk? Condensed as condensed can be? Is it the most milk possible?
What about 101% milk? Is it more milk than milk? Is it supermilk? Or hypermilk? A collapsed milk, just like a collapsed star turning into a black hole, from which nothing escapes.
I poured cereal into a bowl, and then poured the hypermilk in.
Snap…
Crackle…
Kaboom!
The cereal exploded into waves of sound and light.
I think it needs strawberries.