Our school can’t afford the electric bill.
Wind turbines, solar cells, and other renewable energies just can’t generate all the energy we need.
So, we rigged up a system of wires and pulleys to the backs of students heads so as they fall asleep from boredom, their nodding off are driving flywheels hooked to magnets.
The results have been spectacular. We have more than enough energy for our needs. In fact, we’re making money by sending energy back to the grid.
Problem is, we’re having to bore our students. Nobody’s learning anything.
Oh well. As if that’s anything new, right?
Category: My stories
The Real Torture
We told the Red Cross that the prisoner had died and the corpse was quarantined due to a virulent disease needing containment and decontamination.
We told the prisoner that the world thought he was dead, and we could do anything we wanted to do to him.
And we did.
It’s been nine years, but he’s still alive, still providing information.
Sure, it’s utter crap and totally worthless, but it’s highly imaginative and very interesting.
We hand the transcripts to the television producers, they punch it up, and get it filmed in a week.
And that’s how the Kardashians became famous.
The Bottom Line
He started as a software programmer, making cool games that sold millions of copies.
Now, as the CEO of his own software company, he was all about the bottom line.
Which was bottoming out.
“MAKE ME THE NEXT KILLER APP!” he shouted at his programmers.
So, the programmers worked up code that linked a phone’s motion sensors, GPS, and traffic data.
Whenever the driver of a car was in heavy traffic and going very fast, the phone would make a horribly distracting noise that would cause the driver to crash.
They installed it on the CEO’s phone.
Without telling him.
Disintegration
Audio tape is just iron oxide particles glued to tape.
After a few years, the glue wears out, or the particles get worn off.
I find the tape you left me when you left me.
All the reasons, all the things I did wrong.
I mark the spot where you say you love me, but.
Stop.
I cut the tape into a loop, stick it in the player, and open the bottle of wine.
Then, I hit Play.
Over and over, you say you love me.
The tape degrades, disintegrates. Particles go. With each loop, you fade, love fades… slowly…
Maya
Maya plays the cello beautifully.
She started off in the orchestra, and for a while she played in a quartet.
Alone, up on stage, the height of a career… a soloist?
Where do you go from there?
So, she recorded herself, and performed with those recordings.
Good, but could be better.
A group of researchers in a media lab sampled the recordings, and built a virtual Maya that could adjust to her performances.
The effect was amazing, but something still wasn’t quite right.
One day, Maya walked into the lab, and she heard herselves performing perfectly, beautifully together.
Without her.
Idiot Box
Some people call television “The Idiot Box.”
I find this to be a shallow and ignorant description of the televised media.
It’s also insulting to my own product: “Idiot In A Box.”
There’s not much to it. It’s just an idiot in a box.
I got the idea for it from my retarded little brother, Fred.
He liked to sit in boxes.
And watching him in there was highly entertaining.
Unlike television, with Idiot In A Box, you don’t need signal, cable, or Internet to get content.
Just the idiot. And a box. Maybe some oatmeal.
Oh, and diapers.
Enjoy!
My Unfair Lady
If the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain, where does the rest of the rain in Spain fall?
My elocution tutor didn’t know. He just wanted me to repeat this phrase and didn’t want me getting off tangent, digging through the library for meteorological tables from the Iberian peninsula.
When I was done with Professor Higgins, I asked Doctor Odd about the rain in Spain.
He laughed. “When I am done with my Doomsday Cannon, it will rain fire and death upon Spain!”
I asked my parents if we could go to Paris instead of Madrid this year.
Voodotodo List
I have a lot of chores to do every day.
There was an app for To Do lists on my phone, but I’d have to stop playing Angry Birds long enough to check it.
So, I picked up a corkboard and pinned my to do list up there.
When I finish a task, I stick in a pin.
I call it my Voodoo To Do List.
I just have to be careful about putting names on it.
Like when I wrote “Get birthday present for Stan” and stuck a pin in it.
Poor Stan.
Hold on. Gotta add “Stan’s Funeral.”
Candy Corn
Here at Boone Farms, we’ve been bit by this ass-nasty drought just like everybody else.
But instead of just watching our corn and soybeans and other of our traditional crops burn in the fields, we went all-in with a different crop:
Candy corn.
What? You think that stuff gets made in candy factories?
Boy, do you got your shit wrong there, son!
Candy corn grows on stalks just like the normal stuff, but it don’t need rain and sun.
Just corn syrup and coloring.
Plus, those Easter Peeps love this shit.
(But I must admit, I miss the chicken eggs.)
A Tiger In Bed
Things didn’t work out.
We fought, we broke up, and she gave me a kitten her sister rescued.
Although it makes more sense to say “She gave me to the kitten.”
That little rat acted like she owned me.
So, one day, the girl comes back.
You know, to “check on the kitten.”
We wind up in bed.
She’s on top, yelling YES YES YES.. and then screaming.
Kitten was on her back, claws dug in deep.
The girl yelled at me, got dressed, and got the Hell out.
The cat cleaned her claws, curled up, and went to sleep.