I suppose we should go over a few things.
We’ve been fighting over that tree for too long. We need to settle this before it gets out of hand.
First, you said it’s on my side of the property line, so I have to take care of it.
But you took all the fruit from it.
Then, during the storm, I’m supposed to pay for that branch that fell on your house.
So, I cut it down. But you sued me?
That’s why I made a coffin from the wood.
Now sign this release, or I’ll bury you in it.
Category: My stories
The Whales All Vanished
One day, the whales all vanished.
So did the dolphins.
And pandas.
And Tasmanian Devils.
And every other species on the planet.
Besides humans.
Then, the lights went out.
Things got really nasty right around then.
You’d think there’d be
A voice
Or something
Telling the human race
“What the fuck?”
A dramatic pause
For emphasis
And then:
“I turn my back
For a few centuries
And this is what you come up with?”
Followed by
A long
Heavy
Sigh.
There’s no point telling
What came after that
Because the
Whales
Pandas
Dolphins
Devils
Really don’t give a shit, Man.
Dog Suit
You know that show where the guy’s dressed in a dog costume?
Leave it to the networks to take a good thing and ruin it.
Everybody’s wearing dog suits now.
And unlike that show where the guy’s wearing the dog costume, the first show with one, it doesn’t work at all for them.
It’s not the writers or the actors or the directors.
It just doesn’t work. You can’t just Cousin Oliver in a guy in an animal costume and make it work.
Except on the evening news.
But Dianne Sawyer is wearing a catsuit.
Ratings have never been higher.
Ozymandias
When I was growing up, I had a lamp with a toy soldier standing next to a cannon and guardhouse.
He had no name.
I wanted to turn the lamp so the soldier watched over me while I slept, but that would turn the cannon to face me, and what if it went off?
Not good.
So, I turned the lamp so the soldier and the cannon faced the door.
I didn’t sleep well at all.
That’s when I tried to turn the soldier on the lamp’s base.
He broke at the shins.
I named him Ozymandias.
And slept well.
The Hypocrite
They showed me the activist’s profile.
“Professional protester. Trust fund baby. San Francisco.”
They let that out slowly: “San Francisco.”
Photos of a Pride parade, love and peace.
I saw him in a Gaza City cafe, sat down, and said “If I shouted Gay and you shouted Jew, who would they kill first?”
“Don’t,” he begged.
Where’s your pride now?
Coward.
That night, in bed, I told my boyfriend.
“Fucking faggots,” he said, and he held me as we laughed.
When I heard he was dying, I wrote him.
Wished there was a cure for his condition: hypocrisy and hate.
Earworm
Earworms are songs you can’t get out of your head.
Usually, they’re bad songs.
But this one is good. Better than good. A reminder that not all is lost. And there’s hope.
It’s like an angel on my shoulder, whispering in my ear. Don’t despair. Don’t give up hope.
You can make a miracle happen.
On my other shoulder, the devil there tries to convince me otherwise. Tells me that things can will get worse, horrifying, it’ll never end.
The music drowns out his babble and chatter, and he screams for me to fear, for sweat and terror to drink.
Ode To A Troll
if i could press
a magical button
and wipe you
from existence
i’d press that button
but
i wouldn’t just press that button
i’d press that button
in style!
there would be a parade
with elephants
and horses
while marching bands played
girls in short skirts
twirling batons on fire
and old men in fezzes
what are they called?
shriners?
shriners!
went around
on those scooters.
and bringing up the rear
a massive cannon
that would fire me across
two football fields
my hand outstretched
smacking that button
and sending your
ugly
disgusting
evil
miserable
vile
obnoxious
ass
to
hell
Rest Home
It’s been quiet at home ever since we took Grampa to the rest home and his horse Old Paint to the glue factory.
He rode that horse everywhere… to the store… to the mailbox… to the bathroom…
We’re supposed to let him get his bearings for a few days at the retirement community, but the next day we missed him something fierce, so we all got in the truck and headed over.
I opened the door and…
Saw Old Paint standing in his room.
“Where’s Grampa?” I said.
We got back in the truck and raced to the glue factory.
The Adventures of Mustard Man – Chapter 19
The agency with the Mustard Man account wanted to try a new approach to their client’s product.
Instead of a picnic or ballpark emergency requiring the entrance of the superhero Mustard Man to save the day, they envisioned a Hansel And Gretel story.
Instead of the bread crumbs, though, they left a trail of Mustard Man Mustard to lead them all the way back home.
“It’s to highlight how much mustard there is in a Mustard Man Mustard bottle,” said the pitchman.
The public hated the commercial, sales dropped, and he lost the account.
Fire up the Mustard Man Signal!
Exoplanet
Scientists made a list of Earth-like exoplanets.
The first set of seeder pods full of colonizing bacteria were ready when the meteorites began to fall into the ocean.
Strange energy signals rose from the depths, and algae started to assemble into vegetable-based manufacturing centers, spewing plant-based exploration tendrils.
We tried to stop them. A few hundred nukes later, we thought the invaders were defeated.
They weren’t. The battle raged on for years before we finally won.
Still, one day, the plants and vegetables might rise again.
And that’s why you need to mow the lawn and eat your lima beans.