George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
That’s good as in skilled, not good as in a good person.
Even Santa had to admit that George was a good person.
“You’re on my nice list, George,” said Santa. “That’s rather surprising, because every other pirate is on my naughty list.”
“And did you get my wishlist?” said George.
“Yes,” said Santa. “A new hat.”
“One that won’t blow off of my head in a strong wind, right?” said George.
“Yes, yes,” said Santa. “Now get off of my lap, your cutlass is digging into my leg!”
Category: My stories
George and the mall santa
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Around Christmastime, he’d earn some extra cash as a Mall Santa.
But he wasn’t a very good Mall Santa, either.
He put on the suit, got up on the chair, and kids sat in his lap and asked him for things.
Everything went smoothly. No crying, pissing, vomiting, or long lines.
The mall’s owner fired him.
“When kids cry, their mothers buy them things,” said the boss. “When things go quickly and smoothly, they don’t buy anything.”
George plundered the mall and got some new boots. And oven mitts.
Here comes Santa Claus
Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus.
Lock the windows!
Pull the blinds!
Bar the doors!
Turn off the lights!
Santa knocks on every door, and he tries to peer in through the windows.
“I know if you are sleeping,” he says. “And you’re most certainly not.”
Long ago, we all bricked over our chimneys and went to central heating.
No way that the fat bastard will get in through there.
That’s when we smell smoke.
Did he leave a flaming bag of poop on the doorstep? That kidder!
And then, we see the flames get higher… and higher.
Jesus candles
The noisy old lady in the apartment next to mine is always lighting those Jesus candles and leaving them in her window.
One day, I smelled smoke, and when I went outside to look, one of the candles had lit her drapes on fire.
I grabbed an extinguisher and knocked on her door, but she didn’t answer.
So, I kicked in the door, sprayed down her drapes and the candle, and called the fire department on my cell phone.
She screamed about an intruder and called the cops.
The cops took her away.
I re-lit the candle, and thanked Jesus.
Mrs. Claus
When Mrs. Claus falls under the weather, the elves begin their search.
They keep a list of old women.
Good-hearted spinsters who didn’t have any children of their own.
People nobody would miss.
“Didn’t she move to Florida?” people would ask.
In decent health, maybe a little chubby, with gray hair.
Natural, not dyed or a wig.
Good teeth, decent enough vision.
Can you bake cookies?
Good. Keep an eye on the old man. Keep him happy.
What’s with those snowmen outside? Oh, they’ve been there for ages.
Best to leave those frozen-over corpses alone.
You’ll join them soon enough.
Do you?
Do you see what I see?
That’s Santa’s sleigh, crashed in our backyard.
Yeah, he’s dead alright.
Man, what a mess!
Blood and guts everywhere.
And… presents! So many presents!
Do you hear what I hear?
Sirens. But they’re pretty far off, and the roads are icy.
It’ll take ’em a while to get here.
Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
Grab them presents and put ’em in the cellar!
They’re ours now. We found ’em fair and square.
Oh, and grab one of the reindeer carcasses.
Vixen, Comet… who cares?
We’ll chop him up for venison sausage and jerky.
That’s a wrap
No more actors, no more actresses.
It’s all digital now.
Even on the stage, it’s digital. Digital holograms.
No motion-capture needed. We got all that years ago and put it in a library.
We scanned everything in the world so there’s realistic sets to perform on.
And we make them more real than real.
The sound? The music?
It’s all digital. Virtual performers and orchestras.
We all watch at home, in simulated theaters.
The butter on the popcorn isn’t real. Neither is the popcorn, or the soda, or the candy.
Nothing’s real anymore.
Me. You.
Cut! That’s a wrap!
Perfect!
Thug Life
I am fat.
I exercise. I diet.
But I am sick of bland and boring food.
I tried the Thug Life Cookbook.
It is full of savory and enticing vegan dishes.
But my stomach couldn’t take it.
Too much spice. Too much heat.
I was sick all of the time.
This stuff is supposed to make me feel good and enjoy food.
But I feel awful all of the time.
I bought a bottle of malt liquor and poured it out for my fallen homies.
Then, I washed the bottle.
And filled it with chicken broth.
It looks about right.
The sidewalk of could have been
Outside of the Hall Of Fame is the Sidewalk of Could Have Been.
These were the stars of high school, college, and sandlots.
Some of them made it to the minor leagues or practice squads.
And a few are in their respective college or high school or state halls of fame, but not here. The real Hall Of Fame.
They had the raw talent, but not the skill.
They’ll tell you that they had both, but were never given a chance, but to make it as far as they did, they had plenty of chances.
Don’t stare. Just keep walking.
Self-Driving Cars
Fred worked in the research group that was developing self-driving cars for…
Well, I can’t tell you. But you can figure it out, I think.
I mean, it was in the news. And the papers.
The guy snapped.
He programmed in a Deathrace style game where the cars collected points for things or people that they hit.
Dozens of cars, trucks, and vans went berserk in the parking lot.
A few smashed through the glass wall of the company cafeteria.
Where Fred was watching the carnage, sipping his chicken noodle soup.
He shouldn’t have made himself worth a thousand points.