Know what’s fun?
Getting baptized.
I’m not talking about one of those sprinkle-water-in-my-face baptisms.
I’m talking about a go-down-to-the-river baptism.
You see, I’m a mermaid. And when I get in the water, my legs transform back into a tail.
Then I laugh and swim away.
It really scares the crap out of the congregation.
Although, you’ve gotta be careful when planning these pranks.
Make sure it happens in a river and it’s deep enough to escape.
You do not want to end up dragged to a swimming pool at the local Y.
“You just baptized me!” I yelled.
No dice.
Category: My stories
Heartstrings
Sonya was good, her family said, but she wanted to be the absolute best.
“For the best music,” said The Devil, “you must string your violin with heartstrings. They resonate with unmatched beauty.”
So, at her concerts, playing her best, she captured heart after beating heart, luring the men to her home to harvest the strings she needed.
Still, she didn’t sound like the best of all.
The Devil laughed. “They have to be from people you love the most.”
Her mother.
Her father.
Her sister.
Herself.
The Devil laughed at the carnage, rosined Sonya’s bow, and played.
Magnificent!
Cling
Sometimes, we cling to things. Other times, things cling to us.
Usually, it’s easy to tell the difference. But when it comes to Stanley and Life, not so.
At first, we thought that Stanley was clinging to Life.
Then, upon further examination, we saw that Life was clinging to Stanley.
We debated the merits of both perspectives while Stanley shouted “HEY! SOMEONE HELP ME!”
Stanley was clinging to the guardrail, and his grip was slipping.
“Or is the guardrail clinging to you, Stanley?” I asked.
Stanley lost his grip, and fell into the chasm, screaming.
The argument’s moot now, huh?
The Question
I was walking down the street when a pair of street thugs grabbed me by my arms and dragged me into an alley.
“Tell us what we want to know,” said a third thug.
“What do you want to know?” I asked.
The thug scowled and punched me in the stomach.
“Tell us,” he said.
It took a minute to get my wind back, but I got back up and asked again.
The thug beat me in the stomach ten.. twenty… thirty times.
Morse code?
It took a minute to decipher: “How do you, Laurence, write a 100 word story?”
The Scar
I take it you’ve seen the scar on Captain Blood’s neck.
He claims he got it from a duel.
In a way, I suppose that’s the truth, but it wasn’t a fair duel.
His strategy is to draw his sword, then pull a pistol and shoot his opponent in the chest.
Once, he had a misfire, and was forced to reach for his other pistol.
That gun fired true and killed his opponent.
So how was he cut?
He slashed his own neck, reaching for the other pistol.
Don’t tell him that, though.
Or he’ll challenge you to a duel.
Chilly
He was a hockey player, she was an Olympic figure skater.
So it stood to reason that they’d hold the wedding out on the ice.
Invitations went out to their families, friends, managers, agents, teammates and fellow performers.
However, when the day of the wedding arrived, very few people actually showed up.
The groom was huffing mad, his breath fogging the air.
The bride was in tears, freezing on her face.
They looked for their wedding planner and demanded to know why nobody was showing up.
“You wanted an ice rink wedding,” he said. “And they expected a chilly reception!”
Fours
In poker, a pair of fours is known as sailboats.
I don’t like boats. I get seasick just looking at them.
And why would I want two sailboats? That’s twice the maintenance cost, twice the slip fees.
“Well, if one’s being repaired, you’ve got the other one?” says the dealer.
“Yeah, if I’m crazy enough to buy a sailboat, I’m going to want to have a backup for when I miss the thrill of vomiting,” I respond.
Isn’t that just like a dealer, trying to sell you on another damn hole in the water to pour money into?
I fold.
The Masturbation Fairy
You’ve heard of the Tooth Fairy, but what about the Masturbation Fairy?
She shows up at night and slips porn under your pillow. Or between the mattress and the box spring of your father’s side of the bed.
What she collects, well, maybe that’s better left unsaid.
What she does with all that stuff, well, I have no idea.
For certain, she’s busier than Santa Claus.
He just flies around the world once a year, and he only visits the good boys and girls.
The Masturbation Fairy visits everybody, all year round.
And the lump in their stockings isn’t coal.
Carry
Violet is a strange girl.
Sure, she’s plain in all regards, from her mousy brown straight hair down to her shabby tennis shoes, but along the way you can’t miss the fact that she’s always carrying a tuba.
It’s what sets her apart from the rest of the girls.
I asked her once why she carries a tuba everywhere she goes.
“Because if I go somewhere without one,” she replies. “so flew places keep one handy. Present company excepted, of course.”
I am proud of my emergency tuba, stored in a box and labeled “IN CASE OF VIOLET, BREAK GLASS.”
When We Were Relish
WikiPedia says that relish is “a cooked, pickled, or chopped vegetable or fruit food item which is typically used as a condiment.”
So, technically, that jar of chopped pickled cucumbers you smacked Alex alongside the head with is not a relish, as it was used as a weapon, not a condiment.
However, if you decide to decapitate Alex, cook his head, and serve it with the chopped pickled cucumbers on the side, then it’s still not relish.
Chopped pickled cucumbers do not go with cooked severed heads at all. However, based on its presentation, you could call it a garnish.