Over the river, and through the woods to the prison where grandmother’s serving time for armed robbery.
“Social Security and Medicare suck,” said grandmother. “But if you’re in prison, you get everything covered.”
Prison food’s bad, and it’s actually better than the crap Meals On Wheels brought to her run-down apartment every day.
So, instead of clipping coupons and looking at cans of cat food at the end of the month, she robbed a bank.
We brought a pumpkin pie. She pulls out the file, and throws it at me.
“Don’t do that again,” she says. “I like it here.”
Category: My stories
Shrink
Richard Matheson’s book “The Shrinking Man” was retitled “The Incredible Shrinking Man” by his publisher.
I suppose it’s possible for someone to think a shrinking man is not incredible unless told so bluntly.
Go ahead and try it yourself. Walk up to people at random and shout either “I’m the shrinking man!” or “I’m the incredible shrinking man!”
See which people are more impressed, stunned, or horrified.
If someone calls the police on you, forget about bail or calling anyone. Just wait until you’ve shrunk enough to fit between the bars.
Feel free to shout that out at the guards.
Awareness
Remember when people wore yellow ribbon pins to raise awareness of AIDS?
Then came ribbon pins of other colors for other causes.
Red for this.
Green for that.
White for some other thing.
I don’t remember all the colors and their meanings.
So, I stopped wearing any ribbon pins.
“Don’t you care anymore?” people would scream at me.
“It’s bullshit,” I said.
So, they gave me a hemp ribbon for Bullshit Awareness.
Well, not as much a ribbon, as a rope.
A hangman’s noose.
And they put it around my neck.
The other end just went over a tree branch.
Galactispeak
Galactispeak is a dialect of Ancient Varadne.
There is no Modern Varadne. All life on Varadne was exterminated in a planetary civil war many centuries ago.
The species may be gone, but archaeologists and xenoanthropologists pieced together the culture as best they could.
Their language was revealed to be amazingly flexible, descriptive, and efficient.
It is also incredibly easy to learn and master in a short amount of time.
So easy, Varadne spread like a virus across the galaxy, replacing almost all other languages.
We call it Galactispeak.
And we shout it as we fight each other to the death.
Tongues
The salesman put a briefcase on the table in front of Jenny and lifted the lid
Inside were dozens of tongues. Wet. Crawling. Like a pile of earthworms.
“You wanted French?” he said, digging around the pile. He pulled out a tongue and looked it over. “Let’s try this one. Open wide.”
Jenny opened her mouth, and the salesman yanked out her tongue. Then he stuck in the tongue from the pile.
“Say something,” he said.
Jenny spoke, but she couldn’t understand a word.
The salesman pulled out another case. “You’ll need these, too.”
Inside was a pile of ears.
Huevos
I thought about making up my own religion, but decided that it was easier to just corrupt an existing one.
So, I found a small town in Ecuador and, through trickery and technological sorcery, convinced the people that the Easter Bunny was real, and he demanded painted eggs as sacrifices.
Any home without decorated eggs gets a visit from the bunny, and he steals the testicles of all the men.
After a few years, I went back to the town.
All the men had painted their balls bright colors.
Next time, I hire a professional translator instead of using Google.
Zymurgist
Due to budget cutbacks, the school district laid off all the guidance counselors. They were replaced with hats that contained strips of paper with the names of careers written on them.
Students line up, pick a career name out of a hat, and then pick classes based on the skill requirements of that job.
They used to flip through a book and stick their finger on a page to pick out a career.
But the book was in alphabetical order, and word spread fast that the last career in the book was Zymurgist.
Speaking of which, care for another beer?
Thank You Notes
When I was young, I got the crappiest gifts from my relatives.
Socks. Ugly sweaters. Inedible sugar-free candy.
You know, shit like that.
So, I never wrote thank you notes to them, because I wasn’t going to thank them for crappy gifts.
One year, my mother arranged for everyone to send me packages of thank you notes as gifts.
They were made from heavy stock paper.
Perfect for making paper airplanes.
They kept their shape, and flew longer than simple notebook or copy paper.
I’d have thanked them for the notes, but I used them all up making the airplanes.
The Long Distance Kiss Goodbye
The first time you needed help, I helped you.
And you thanked me.
But when I needed help, where were you?
“I’m busy,” you said.
Busy.
I got through it on my own, but it hurt. A lot.
You live, you learn.
And you remember these things.
Now you’re back, all bloody and begging for help again.
No.
Don’t spit in my face and tell me it’s a long-distance kiss, baby.
I know the difference.
And you know the difference.
It takes a lot of strength to put the past behind us.
I slowly close the door, and whisper “Goodbye.”
Shampoopoo
Every week, shampoo manufacturers come up with a new formula that incorporates some obscure and absurd natural ingredient like monkeypuzzle tree oil or himalayan yak scrotum shavings.
Sure, the supermodels in the commercials are practically orgasmic over their shiny and bouncy full hair, but all I ever want is to shed less dandruff and not smell like a flower shop.
Nope. It’s impossible to get shampoo without this wacky Amazonian rainforest crap in it anymore. I’m stuck with hyacinth pollen extract reviving my roots and Mongolian rose elbows on my split ends.
No wonder why Bruce Willis shaves his head.