Category: My stories

Who wins at the end of Julius Caesar?
Certainly not Caesar? He’s dead.
Cassius and Brutus are on the run.
So is Casca.
And Mark Antony’s stuck having to run the place.
If you think about it, the only true winner is the local knife salesman.
Think about it… all these rich people looking for knives all at the same time.
And I’m sure that they don’t want the salesman remembering their faces.
So, the knife salesman made out like a bandit, closed up shop, got away clean, and retired to a villa on the coast.
He died only once.

I really don’t give a fuck.
I ran out of fucks to give last week.
Usually, I try to save them up so they last until the end of the month.
But, you know, it’s December, and with all the holiday bullshit?
You know what I mean.
Don’t get me started on my family.
We tried a family plan for sharing a pool of fucks, but the kids blow through them like tissue paper.
I’ve tried to teach them how to be cynical and all that, but they never listen.
I ran out of fucks to give about that, too.

The kids say that if you hit all of the buttons on the elevator, it will take you straight to Hell.
But I know that can’t be true.
There’s a sign on the elevator that says “In case of fire, use stairs.”
And we all know that Hell is the eternal lake of fire.
Therefore, the elevator doesn’t go there.
You’d have to take the stairs to get to Hell.
Or just fall down a really deep hole.
Such as an elevator shaft.
Maybe the elevator floor drops out.
Into the shaft
To Hell.
I think I’ll take the stairs.

Most people are familiar with Nike, the Greek Goddess of Victory, but few are familiar with her little brother, Converse, the Greek God of Expensive Shoes That Don’t Make You Any Faster, Stronger, Or Athletic.
And yet, so many still worship at his temples, and sacrifice large wads of cash in his name.
Oh, hear the ring of the cash register altars!
Oh, revel in the klaxon of the security alarm pillars, warning of another shoplifter!
Oh, pity the screaming child who wants Air Jordans, but has to settle for these canvas pieces of crap!
The minimum-wage mall priests sigh.

One evening, the gap between David Letterman’s teeth issued a challenge to the gap between Michael Strahan’s teeth.
The gap between Michael Strahan’s teeth accepted the challenge, and for the next week, the gaps grew as wide as they possibly could.
“Time’s up!” said the gap between David Letterman’s teeth, and they showed how Paul Schaeffer could fit between them.
The gap between Michael Strahan’s teeth were so wide that Kelly Ripa could pass between.
“Oh yeah?” said the gap between Madonna’s teeth. “Try this one!”
And they allowed a city bus to pass between them.
Paul and Kelly applauded.

While I waited for the Apple Store to swap the battery in my phone, I wandered around the Galleria.
Thirty-five minutes? Might as well get lunch, right?
The food court is full of disgusting fried food. And all of the sit-down restaurants had lines.
Except one: Kona Grill.
I really enjoyed the miso soup there. And the sesame salad wasn’t bad at all.
Two pieces of yellowtail sushi, fresh and perfectly cut.
Even the receipts were excellent.
No “Merchant Copy” or “Customer Copy.”
Instead, they said “Sign one, and keep the other.”
An elegant solution to end an excellent meal.

The new iPhones came out recently.
And it’s no coincidence that the battery on my current iPhone is dying, right?
I thought that it was the usual bullshit that Apple pulls when they release a new model and operating system.
They cause problems with their older models, whether its WiFi issues or battery charging problems.
But this time, they admitted they had a manufacturing defect with their older models, and offered to replace the battery for free.
So, instead of a new phone, I’m getting the old one repaired.
It’s served me well. And will, for another year or two.

Wishes take a lot of energy.
So, every time you wish upon a star, it explodes.
Why don’t you see the star explode?
Because stars are very far away. Hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands of light years away.
The ones in other galaxies are millions of light-years away.
It takes more than a lifetime for the light from the explosion to travel that far.
But not hyperdrive-powered intergalactic missiles.
When Kobani-7 exploded, some of their race survived. And they know it was your wish that nearly wiped them all out.
I hope that new bike was worth it, Jimmy.

Every time we’d go to the Renaissance Festival, I buy sticks of incense.
I close my eyes and pull out sticks at random.
One of this, one of that.
I hand them to the storekeeper, and they ask me what kind I got.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t care.”
I like to pick them out at random and light them.
I like to watch the wisp of smoke, and sense the aroma,
What is it? What will it be?
Half of the time, I have no idea what I’m burning.
But it’s nice, and I always like it.