I’ve been told that when you turn 100, The King of the World grants you a wish.
Every day, I imagined what he’d look like. He grew more magnificent each day, silken robes and a golden crown with shining gems.
Until, one day, he was there. At my hundredth birthday.
“Make a wish,” he said.
“To be young,” I replied.
He laughed. “You imagined me all your life. As youth is imagination, so then you are young.”
I blew out the candles on my cake, watching the smoke twist and curl into flying dragons and magnificent castles in the clouds.”
Category: My stories
Same Shit, Different Asshole
Election Day is over, and we’re sending a new guy to Washington.
The old guy, who never did anything, packs his stuff and comes home.
The new guy is full of enthusiasm and ideas, and he gets immediately to work.
Well, not yet. He needs new furniture for the office. He has to hire a staff. He has meetings to attend.
When he’s ready to sit down and get to work, he gets up and… heads off on the campaign trail.
It wears him down, and after a few terms, he’s accomplished nothing.
The old guy laughs at us.
Suckers.
Macarena
Jose Menendez was known far and wide as The King of The Macarena.
He was constantly putting his hands on his hips, jumping, and turning from morning to night.
Then, one day, he was doing the dance up on a bar and slipped on some spilled peach Margarita mix, and hit his head on the floor, putting him into a coma.
His living will said to play his Macarena tape by his bedside. If he didn’t get up and dance, pull the plug.
So, we did. And he lay there still.
We pulled the plug… on that damn tape player.
Sleep Disorder
After a battery of tests, the doctor gives Jose the results: he suffers from somnambulism, walking around in his sleep.
Jose scratches his head. “How?”
And he pats the handles of his wheelchair. “I can’t walk.”
“Only when you’re awake,” says the doctor. “But when you’re asleep, you walk around.”
Jose remembered the car crash, the surgeries, and getting the bad news: “You’ll never walk again.”
He told them then that he’d prove them all wrong.
“I guess I have,” he mumbled.
“I’ve got good news,” said the doctor.
“What?”
“You’re also a narcoleptic, Jose. More time for walking, right.”
Nanobots
Long ago, Sally would have had to clean her teeth with a brush, fluoridated goo, waxed string, and medicated rinse.
Now, it’s done with nanobots. Tiny robots programmed to scrub away food particles, eliminate bacteria, and rebuild any damaged surface material.
Everything is done with nanobots. Zapping cancer cells, replenishing muscle fibers, healing bone, and enhancing nerve signals.
They’re not supposed to go into the brain, but they do.
The tooth maintenance routine doesn’t quite work in the brain, neurons sheathed with shiny hard enamel.
Sally collapsed in the mall, staring blankly, with a perfect dead smile on her face.
The Falling Leaves
It takes two hours to reach this spot, but it’s worth the journey.
See those trees? The ones with the red and orange leaves?
They’re just about ready, I think.
Spread out the blanket on the perfectly smooth grass, lay back, and look up at the sky through the branches.
Then, with the first breeze, the leaves start to fall… upwards.
Into the sky they rise, up and out of sight.
I don’t know why the leaves do that.
Maybe it’s a gravitational anomaly, or perhaps something in the leaves.
Just lay back and watch them rise, up and away.
Gum Wad
I chew a lot of gum.
And when I’m done with it, I keep it all.
Ever since I was 8, I’ve added to the gum wad in my room.
When I went off to college, I took it with me, and I stuck it in the back of my closet.
I went into the Army, somehow managing to get through Afghanistan without losing the gigantic gum wad.
Now, I’m back home.
I made my home out of the gum wad.
Here. Have some gum. Enjoy.
Just give it to me when you’re done. I want to build a patio.
The Swear Jar
I swear too much.
I’ve tried everything, but my analyst came up with a great idea: a Swear Jar.
Every time I swear, I put a buck in the jar.
I picked out a really nice jar for it, too.
It’s an antique. Those guys on that television show said it was worth hundreds of dollars.
It was worth fifty more by the end of the week, but the next week, I only added twenty.
Then ten. Then five. Then…
I was cured!
That’s when I dropped the jar, spilling money and pottery shards everywhere.
Okay, fine… so I relapsed.
Attachments
The IT Department warned us about email attachments, but have you seen what those guys have on their screens all day?
Junk. Porn. Utter garbage.
So, instead of forwarding all these jokes to everyone, we send them to everyone but those geeks.
I get the funniest jokes from people, but every now and then my anti-virus program lets me know something might hurt my computer.
I usually click the OK button, but this time I hit Cancel.
That’s when my printer started up and started printing pancakes.
I called IT and asked for help.
They brought maple syrup and butter.
Burned
I went out to the cemetery, found a place to sit, and read a book about zombies under the moonlight.
After a few minutes, zombies appeared through the trees, shambling across the grass and headstones.
I got out my lighter, and set the book ablaze.
The zombies burst into harmless puffs of flame and ash before vanishing.
Neat trick, right?
You ain’t seen nothing yet.
That’s when opened the magazine I found under dad’s side of the bed.
And… then… a zombie centerfold showed up, moaning “BRAAAAAAAAAINS!”
Sure, that’s in her LIKES list, but I think I’m going to run.