Some people have just one cord for their phone and they bring it with them everywhere they need it.
I’m not one of those kind of people.
I have a cord on my nightstand, a cord at the coffee table where I use my laptop at home, a cord in my backpack, and a cord at my desk at work.
I don’t know whether this means that I’m paranoid, lazy, or wasteful with money, but I know that anywhere I go, I’ve got a spare cord available when I need it.
Too bad I never have any bars.
Fucking Verizon.
Category: My stories
Birds
You know that song, “Why do birds suddenly appear?”
Well, I know why birds suddenly appear every time you are near. It’s obvious.
It’s all that birdseed you covered yourself with.
How did you get it to stick to your body?
Peanut butter?
Honey?
Baby oil?
I hope you’re not allergic.
Not only does that crap attract birds, but there’s a large population of squirrels and chipmunks and other varmints following you around.
Okay, so some of them eat the seeds you’re leaving behind you, but the ones that crawl up your legs… aren’t you worried about rabies or scratches?
Casting Call
Sally was a great singer, but a lousy actress, and she was ugly as hell.
Denise was a great actress, but her singing was awful, and she wasn’t much to look at.
Tracy looked amazing, but she couldn’t sing or act her way out of a paper bag.
All three showed up to the casting call.
The producer hired Sally to perform on the soundtrack. Then, he hired Denise to work with the stop-motion capture group.
What he did with Tracy, well, let’s just say that she ought to have a pimp instead of an agent.
The movie bombed spectacularly.
Mouse
I needed a mouse for my docking station at work, so the computer guys presented me with a fancy wireless mouse with a lot of buttons.
I had to change the battery every few days, and I was always messing up my work because of a wild function button press.
I went to Amazon and bought a simple two-button mouse with a wheel and a cord.
The computer guys made fun of my insisting on such a simple and crude pointing device.
“You can’t do anything with that mouse,” they said.
So, I strangled each of them with the cord.
Sharing
When I was growing up, my brother and I shared a room.
Our family had a maid who took the train from the city, but sometimes she stayed overnight in a room of her own.
When she died and wasn’t replaced, I was moved to her room.
“What kind of wallpaper do you want?” asked my dad, showing me hundreds of samples.
I chose Mighty Mouse wallpaper.
Bad choice. Dozens of bulgy-eyed supermice, staring at me from the wall.
He may be here to save the day, but he’ll be back at night to rob you of your precious sleep.
Civil War
Tens of thousands of Syrians have died during their civil war.
Hundreds of thousands have fled the country.
While these people suffer, diplomats and politicians yell at each other and do nothing.
Like many, I think we should arm the Syrian rebels, but the problem is that the rebels include Al Qaeda and Hezbollah terrorists.
So, I have decided to help arm the terrorists with pies. Because the YouTube videos will be funny instead of head-chopping-off gruesome.
“What kind of pie would you like?” I ask a rebel.
‘Die Infidel!” he shouts.
“Sorry, just apple and cherry today,” I grumble.
Pins
One wall of my room was covered with corkboard so things could be pinned to it.
Well, okay. It wasn’t my room. It was the room my brother and I were in.
I don’t say shared because he thought of it as his room, and I was an intruder.
One wall was a corkboard, and he had all his posters and stuff pinned up there.
I had nothing pinned up, because all the pins were his.
If I took a pin, he hit me.
I never thought to ask for pins.
If I had, he’d have taken them all.
Monster.
Eggnostic
Some eggs are hard-boiled in their faith.
Those are easy to paint and put in the basket.
Then we can shuck them for later.
Others have no faith at all. They’ve been poked with holes, and everything blown out.
Those are just empty husks that we can glue shiny glitter to.
Then there’s the eggs in the middle. The ones that haven’t been hard-boiled or blown-out.
I call them the eggnostic eggs.
Can’t paint them, or they rot.
Can’t glue anything to them either.
I just crack them on the bowl, scramble them up, and pour ’em in the skillet.
Popular places
I know a place that’s so popular, nobody goes there anymore.
No. Really. Nobody goes there anymore.
People make reservations years in advance and put down a deposit. Then they forget about the reservation and forfeit the deposit.
Everybody does this, and nobody ends up eating there.
The owner’s gotten rich off of this scam.
Then, the heath inspector came by. There was no food or knives or anything in the kitchen.
No tables, chairs, silverware, or plates in the dining room either.
They failed inspection.
Why? Because of the bathrooms. Totally unused, but nobody had cleaned them in years.
The Real
Her father bought her a new nose for her sweet sixteenth.
College money went to a few other “necessary” improvements. She changed her name and picked up a degree from a diploma mill.
That got her an internship with the Senator, and she eventually handled the press for him.
After every day, she’d touch up her roots, check on her nail extensions, fix her makeup, and head to her favorite bar to prowl the scene.
“Why can’t I catch a real man?” she sighed to the bartender.
“Must be using the wrong bait,” he said.
She didn’t leave a tip.