They give names to hurricanes. And cyclones, taiphoons, and tropical storms.
The sun has a name. It’s a sunny day. That never changes, although my weird Aunt Ruth insists on calling it Gertrude after her dead sister. When she says it’s a Gertrudey day, we know to take away her car keys.
Now, they give names to winter storms.
I suppose it is a matter of time before they give names to everything else, like tornadoes.
I call tornadoes JESUS! or MOTHERFUCKER!
Gertrude called Ruth that when she poisoned her for stealing her boyfriend.
He vanished in an unnamed blizzard.
Category: My stories
Atomized
Peter always wanted to go into space.
But the Treaty of Kkaskktk clearly states that Earthborn must remain on Earth.
Satellites enforced the treaty. Earthborn who tried to break the blockade were sent crashing down.
Instead of living within their ecological means on their homeworld, Earthborn continued to ravage their planet, and instead focused their efforts on trying to break the blockade.
For every satellite destroyed, ten would take its place.
Peter tried to design a hyperspace gateway to jump past the blockade, but it started a chain reaction.
Everything was atomized.
But, technically, Peter’s atoms float around in space.
George
Lisa wanted to name our son “George” after her great-grandfather.
So, we named him George.
He was a brilliant kid, and he was reading science magazines before other kids were potty-trained.
We couldn’t answer his questions, so we gave him a computer, and he asked scientists around the world all kinds of strange things.
At least it wasn’t porn and predators. Can’t be too careful these days.
His experiments grew larger and louder, until one day, he vanished.
“TIME MACHINE” was the last entry in his notebook.
Makes sense. My last photo of him looks a lot like Lisa’s great-grandfather.
Shave For Cancer
A friend of mine has cancer, and they’re starting radiation and chemotherapy soon.
All of their hair is going to fall out, so they went ahead and got it all shaved off.
Some people shave their heads in solidarity with their cancer-stricken friends, but that’s a bit extreme, I think.
Plus, I’m slowly going bald anyway, so if I shave it all off, there’s a good chance that it won’t all come back.
That’s why I’m going to shave my back hair.
I’ve got a salon coupon that my coworkers bought me for Christmas.
Hey, I can take a hint!
School Days
For centuries, Catholics called the Jews “Christ-killers.”
I didn’t know this until I was sent to private school.
A Catholic school. The only private school in the area.
I didn’t have to go to Mass. Instead, I was sent to Study Hall.
I’d read quietly, until the bullies showed up.
“I’ll tell the headmaster,” I said.
“He’s the one who sent us,” grinned O’Brien.
I stabbed him in the face.
After I finished with the others, I went to see the headmaster.
“Self-defense,” I said.
He confessed to molesting those boys, and thanked me for helping to cover that up.
Get Your Goat
If you need a goat, buy one or borrow one from a trusted friend.
Never rent a goat.
Sure, it looks cheaper to rent a goat than to buy one, but they pile on all sorts of hidden fees and charges. “Horn Insurance” is such a scam. Most insurance policies already cover goat horns… look it up!
And then there’s the late fees. No overnight drop-offs allowed, either. Don’t even try to cram that goat through the mail slot.
inally, the rental place will charge you a fortune for goat chow if you return the goat with an empty stomach.
Pregnant
Strange things happen to women while they’re pregnant.
They sometimes have cravings for foods they never liked before. On the other hand, they reach for their favorite foods, only to discover that they taste repulsive and disgusting.
One friend who is pregnant used to like horseradish, but now find that they have a hard time with it.
So, I told her to give the horseradish a hard time back.
Instead of refrigerating the bottle after opening it like the label says, put it outside on a railing where it might tip over and fall.
That’ll show the fucker who’s boss.
Ass God
A friend of mine recently underwent a colonoscopy.
They were all freaked out over it. The fasting, purgative, and the discussion about the anesthetic just made it all worse.
I told them how I just laughed through my own colonoscopy preparations and the procedure, and things turned out okay.
So, they went through it all, and they just told me “They found a precancerous polyp.”
That’s great news, I said, precancerous and not cancerous.
“Yes! Thank the gods!” they said.
Except the God Of Precancerous Polyps, of course.
Because he’s a total dick, giving those fucking polyps out to people.
Madness
I don’t give a crap about March Madness.
Professional sports are a waste of time, but college sports are a waste of academic institutions.
Instead of focusing on educating students and researching the frontiers of knowledge, these colleges and universities train and babysit these gargantuan kids to perform for the crowds.
Where there should be a series of lecture halls and labs, producing results around the clock and year, massive stadiums and arenas sit idle, waiting for a few home games a year.
Forget that slam dunk… give us a cure for cancer! A pollution-free engine!
The ignorant crowd cheers.
Border
After years of debate and finger-pointing, Congress finally got to the business of working out a fair and complete overhaul of immigration policy.
Citizenship would be extended to illegal aliens who had demonstrated all the qualities America was looking for, while the borders would be protected and secured.
The President smiled wide and signed the bill into law.
The next day, the country was overwhelmed with a flood of immigrants demanding amnesty.
“None of them actually stepped on the border, right?” asked the President.
Sure, the border itself was safe, but nobody thought to protect and secure the country, too.