Our patio is surrounded by a tall wooden fence.
Jasmine used to grow for thirty feet along the fence, but the fence was damaged during Hurricane Ike.
The apartment complex tore down the fence and replaced it, killing the jasmine.
It’s taken us six years to grow jasmine along one section of the fence, but it wants to grow up the building, not along the rest of the fence.
So, I cut back the vines that climb the building, and staplegun other vines to grow along the rest of the fence.
It’s like Homer Simpson’s combover.
And just as futile.
Category: My stories
The Last Laugh
Freddy told the crudest jokes. He never pulled any punches.
Especially when it was a celebrity who died, or some awful national tragedy.
TOO SOON! people would say, or tweet.
How soon is okay? A day? A week? A year?
That’s when a stray tachyon particle struck his long term memory center.
Freddy’s awful jokes came before the stuff actually happened.
Now, they weren’t just too soon, but more sick than funny.
Until these things actually happened.
HOLY FUCK! people would say. HOW THE FUCK DID YOU KNOW?
Freddy never responded. He’d hung himself, laughing.
The first and last laugh.
Beer Rain
Sometimes I drink beer from a can, other times I drink beer from a bottle.
But the civilized thing to do is drink beer from a glass. Pour that beer from the can, the bottle, or the keg into a proper glass, and drink it that way.
Drinking the beer that rains down from the sky is not considered civilized. Only boors tip their heads back to drink, or wring out their garments into their mouths.
Raw, unprocessed beer is vile.
Let it flow into the drains, and get filtered in the processing stations.
Better safe than sorry, kid.
Cheers!
Bitey bites
Mosquitoes tend to bite people who perspire more carbon dioxide.
The more you release through your skin, the more they bite.
Aside from wearing skintight clothes or toxic levels of insect repellent, you’re pretty much screwed if you’re a heavy carbon dioxide releaser. Like Fred.
Fred volunteered for polar exploration duty to get away from the damned things, and for once in his life, he was free of little red welts, itching, and disgusting chemicals on his skin.
Sure it was cold as fuck, but he didn’t care.
Until he fell into a crevasse and was never seen alive again.
Struck
Some people get starstruck when they see a celebrity.
But do people get gueststarstruck? Or specialgueststarstruck?
What’s that like?
I can’t imagine someone getting alsostarringstruck.
Or, I suppose, featuringstruck, secondunitditectorstruck, associateproducerstruck, or keygripstruck.
That stuff might fascinate someone or lead to an interesting conversation, but it doesn’t match up with being starstruck.
Not in the least.
Once, I was stuntcoordinatorstruck. Literally. A stunt coordinator struck me.
I suppose I should have ducked sooner.
But I wasn’t paying attention, and pow!
Now that I think of it, he should have pulled his punch.
He wasn’t much of a stunt coordinator, really.
Vote Against
This upcoming election doesn’t really give many choices.
I don’t feel like voting for either candidate.
Voting for one ends is really just a vote against the other.
I feel like staying home, but each candidate’s supporters say that it’s a vote for the other candidate.
The truth is, staying home is a vote for my cat, who likes it when I stay home and lay on the couch so she can snuggle up against me.
And if I don’t use time off or sick time, or pretend to do some work from home, it’s a vote for unemployment, too.
Delayed
Give a kid a marshmallow, and then tell them that if they don’t eat it while you’re out of the room, you’ll give them two marshmallows.
This is a famous test of delayed gratification.
I remember the studies. I remember the psychologist standing over me, holding out the marshmallow.
“I don’t like marshmallows,” I told him.
“Well, what do you like?” he asked me.
It took three orderlies to pry my hands from his throat.
Oh, how I love to strangle scientists.
I guess I didn’t want to wait for him to bring a second psychologist for me to strangle.
The Ugly Stick
When Grampa sees an ugly girl, he says “She must have been beaten with The Ugly Stick.”
Which, back in his day, was a real stick.
The City Uglifier would go from door to door, beating girls with The Ugly Stick until they were ugly.
These days, there is no more City Uglifier. The position was eliminated due to budget cuts.
The Ugly Stick is on display at City Hall, in a locked glass cabinet.
However, it’s not a very secure lock, because occasionally, you’ll see an ugly girl.
Grampa puts a finger to his lips, says SSSSSSSSSH!, and winks.
There’s only so much
There’s only so much blood a vampire can drink.
There’s only so much darkness a vampire can see.
There’s only so much forever a vampire can take.
They walk out to the beach, strip off their clothes, and lie down to wait for the sun.
Others hammer stakes into their own hearts. Or they ask their servants to do it for them.
“Make me immortal,” some will ask.
But the vampire knows better. The vampire knows that it’s not a gift, but an endless horror.
So, they kill their servants, walk to the beach, strip off their clothes, and wait.
Sleep is overrated
When people say sleep is overrated, who’s doing the rating?
Exactly what rating did sleep get?
And what rating should it get?
Are they saying that all sleep should be rated X?
Or NC-17, which is what X is now?
You can give a film X for sex, or for violence.
I hope they’re talking about sex, because nobody wants violence in the bed.
Because it’s a lot easier to wash sex stains out of the sheets than bloodstains.
Assuming that you survive the violence, of course.
Or you’ll end up wrapped in the sheets and buried in the woods.