Category: My stories

Some managers use the carrot-and-stick approach.
I do too, but I hired an actual carrot and stick.
The carrot just sits there.
So does the stick.
At least the carrot does something.
Even though it’s just to dry up and rot.
The stick just sits there.
“Do something, stick!” I shout.
But it just sits there.
You can’t threaten a stick with another stick.
Sticks always stick together.
Unless you rub them together and make a fire.
“FIRE!” I shout. “THERE’S A FIRE!”
Which I can use to cook the carrot.
The truth is, I’m not a very good manager.

“Save the trees!” shouted environmentalists.
So, we became a paperless business.
Other businesses did too.
We all became paperless.
The trees thrived. Forests grew thick, and they spread wide.
Birds and wildlife returned.
“Hooray!” shouted environmentalists.
They held a parade, but it was hard to walk the route because of all of the trees in the way.
Businesses noticed a steep rise in absenteeism as their employees were unable to drive to work because of the trees in the roads.
“Who cares?” shouted environmentalists, as the economy collapsed.
Pissed-off businesspeople strung up the environmentalists from trees and watched them die.

On the first day of the conference, the hotel staff prepared sausage, egg, and cheese sandwiches.
I scraped off the egg. I can’t eat egg.
On the second day of the conference, the staff prepared sausage, egg, and cheese burritos.
They mixed the ingredients together so I couldn’t scrape it off.
Fuckers.
On the third day, the staff broke into my room and pelted me with eggs.
That’s when civilization fell.
I crawled along the shore, looked up at a ruined Statue Of Liberty, and damned everyone to Hell.
But, in my opinion, the Tim Burton remake was far worse.

The sofa in the hotel lobby is extremely comfortable. I could sit in it all day and work on my laptop.
But the wifi here is awful. I can’t get a decent connection. And my cel phone connection is even worse.
No data, voice, or text service at all.
There’s a two-hour break until the next conference session starts. The other attendees probably want to discuss work stuff over lunch. And my team back at the office probably wants more revisions on the project.
The alarm clock function doesn’t need wifi, right?
I set it, and take a long nap.

The great thing about Muppets is that they never die.
Oh, their puppeteers and voice performers may die, but the Muppets themselves never die.
They’re characters. They’re roles.
Just about anybody can stick their hand up Kermit, Ernie, or The Swedish Chef and make them dance.
It might take a bit of practice to do Big Bird or Snuffleupagus, but they have understudies and backup performers for that stuff.
And when the Muppet puppets or suits wear out, the workshop makes new ones.
The old ones go to museums. Or the security vault.
In case they try to get free.

Carl Sagan once said that in order to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.
I suppose the same is true if you want to make ice cream from scratch, too.
It’s very important that you do this all in the same universe.
Because, if you try to create apple pie in one universe and ice cream in another universe, you now have to bridge the two universes in order to have pie ala mode.
Sadly, the matter from the two universes will cause a massive anti-matter explosion.
So, skip dessert, and just have coffee.

Someone painted over the S in Skid Row the other day, and now the place is filling up with
five-year-old winos and toddler bums.
“Hey, buddy, can you spare a pacifier?” asks a tiny tramp in an unchanged diaper.
The church runs a soup and bread line, although they give away fruit rollups and bottles of formula to the needy.
A clean diaper, someone to tie their shoes for them.
All these kids need is a helping hand, some say.
But I’ve seen them gamble it away.
Shooting dice on the pier.
Ride the ladder up, and the chute down.

The Kholdani and The Resistance fought each other for years.
“We are the true defenders of the flag!” said The Resistance. “The Kholdani have dishonored it with their corruption and extermination campaigns!”
“Bullshit,” said the Kholdani, and they fought most fiercely.
When The Resistance finally won, they kept the flag.
The Kholdani were driven underground, and as The Resistance became corrupt and cruel, The Kholdani became The New Resistance.
When they won the civil war, the flag stayed the same, and The New New Resistance was born,
Pretty soon, everyone was dead, and the tattlered flag flew over smoking ruins.