Dr. Harold Weirdland usually ran out of blackboards before he came up with answers, but he bought an iPad and, lo and behold, he came up with answers.
“We age because the world spins!” shouted the mad doctor. “But if we spin in the opposite direction, we’ll stop aging. Maybe get even younger.”
So, the doctor spun.
All day, he’d spin, which made things difficult when it came to eating, drinking, teaching classes, and going to the bathroom.
To spin while sleeping, he combined his bed and a clothes dryer.
He was dizzy, but his diapers were soft and warm.
Category: My stories
The Ass End Of Dentistry
Every six months, I go to the dentist.
Well, not the dentist. A dentist.
My mouth is such a horror, they either commit suicide to avoid seeing me again or refer me to one of their colleagues.
Not-well-liked colleagues.
Still, every now and then, one tries to prove themselves, and only when I’m in the chair do they realize their mistake.
“Oh my God,” says the latest brave soul. “That’s… awful!”
He then commanded me to take down my pants and bend over.
Instead of doing a routine cleaning, I got a colonoscopy.
(Don’t ask me where the lollipop went.)
Silence
When I first saw “Soylent Green” I watched it with my mute pal Bobby Greene and said “Hey, that’s about you… Soylent Green, Bobby Greene?”
Bobby flapped his hands at me, but I never learned any of that sign language crap.
“Write it down, jackass,” I growled, and he picked up a steno pad and scribbled out FUCK YOU in big letters.
We watched the rest of the movie, Edward G. Robinson dies and Charlton Heston finds out the secret about Soylent Green.
YUCK wrote Bobby.
So, I killed him. Cooked and ate him too.
Hey, Soylent Greene is delicious!
Building Blocks
I’m all about the educational toys.
Most kids get little wooden alphabet blocks.
Not my kid. That stuff’s for babies. They stick them in their mouths and drool.
No challenge at all. How’s that educational?
I’m giving my kid alphabet cinderblocks.
Yeah, they had cinderblocks for sale at the Home Depot.
I sprayed on primer and painted some letters on the things.
My kid’s gonna be the strongest in spelling… literally.
No dummies or wimps in this house.
“Hey! Johnnyboy! Quit your blubbering and spell me DOG? I said DOG. No no no lift with THE LEGS, not your BACK!”
Spinning
I remember when Suzie would go into my study and spin the antique globe, watching the world rush by in a blur.
She’d close her eyes, stab at the globe with a finger, and shout “STOP!”
Opening her eyes, she’d ask me if I’ve ever been to that place.
“Why, yes, I have,” I start, spinning an epic tale of adventure and romance and danger and treasure.
The kidnappers sent us her shoe, took the money, and vanished without a trace.
I spin the globe one last time, shout “STOP!” and imagine Suzie there.
I can feel the poison spread.
Castaway
Joe’s ship wrecked on an uncharted island.
He had a supply of fresh water, all the fruit and fish and other good things to eat, and the weather was pleasant year-round.
Bored? Nope. His boat was loaded with books.
Nobody came searching for him, and after a few weeks, he grew used to being alone.
And he liked it.
However, every day, crabs would come up on shore and spell out HELP on the sand.
They glittered and glistened in the sun.
Joe would scatter them and brush away their telltale scuttle-trails
And he went back to reading his books.
The Tyrant
The Old Tyrant yells “Load the carriage faster! I need to escape before-”
Shouting! Beyond the gate!
A mob from the city, surrounding his castle.
“Guards! Protect me!” he yells.
The guards run out through the gate to meet the crowd.
And then, they rush back, closing the gate and blocking it.
From the outside.
“They won’t let you leave,” said his assistant. “They want you to stay on as ruler.”
“But I’m tired of running this country!” the Tyrant whined. “Don’t they want democracy? Freedom?”
“No. They want prosperity. Stability. You provide that.”
The exhausted tyrant wept and screamed.
The Doesn’t Matterhorn
One evening, several costumed cast members from Disney World got hammered at the British pub in Epcot and attempted an ascent of Space Mountain.
They were ill-prepared and barely-equipped for the harsh terrain, and even with the help of catwalks and stairs they still lost 3 of their party.
Well, actually, they just lost their oversized heads. A fourth: Pooh Bear, threw up in his costume, and Ariel the Mermaid got her tail caught in the coaster track.
By the time they reached the summit, Security had nabbed them all.
Too bad. They were going to attempt the Matterhorn next.
Third Thumb
I once heard of a psychic claiming they had a “third eye.”
Well, then I must have a “third thumb.”
You see, I’m a movie critic. The Celluloid Spy.
And I’m afraid of the dark.
Yeah, I hire mailroom interns to stand in for me at movie screenings.
My trademark trenchcoat, fedora, and fake beard make sense now, right?
So, when you wonder if the critic saw the same movie did, you’re right: I didn’t.
But here’s the creepy thing. I’ve been accurate in my plot synopses and ratings.
Stupid kid, getting hit by that truck.
Never saw that coming.
The Pool
I was walking to the pool when my mother yelled “You just ate, so don’t go swimming.”
Oh. Right.
Don’t swim within half an hour of eating or you’ll get cramps.
So, instead of swimming, I ran around the pool.
“No running around the pool!” my mother yelled.
So, I stopped running around the pool.
Instead, I ran around the house with scissors.
“Are you crazy?” my mother shouted. “Never run around the house with scissors!”
So I went outside and ran around the pool with scissors for thirty minutes.
And dove into the shallow end, scissors firmly in hand.