Category: My stories

Breakfast for breakfast

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Ethan loved strawberry pancakes.
But he never got up in time to make breakfast during the week. He’d just chug a glass of juice before running out the door.
But on the weekends, he’d take the time to mix the batter, toss in sliced strawberries, and make himself the pancakes he so dearly loved.
One day, he poured out the batter into the pan and didn’t see any strawberries in it.
He shrugged and tossed in more strawberry.
They sank into the batter, never to be seen again.
That’s when Ethan decided he liked shredded wheat cereal better.
Without strawberries.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 59

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Abe read the reports of the Sioux Uprising and grimaced.
“All of this was over some eggs in a nest?” said Lincoln. “Presposterous!”
“And whiskey,” said an aide.
“Well, whiskey’s worth fighting over,” said Lincoln. “Say didn’t we have a deal with the Dakota?”
“We did,” said the aide. “But we don’t now.”
Lincoln nodded. “I suppose we can’t just sue them over this uprising, fighting, raping, and murdering stuff,” he said. “We’re a tad busy with the South.”
“Sue the Sioux?” asked the aide. “That sounds awfully silly.”
“You’re right,” said Lincoln, giggling. “We’d better just kill them all.”

Elevator To Heaven

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People ask me the secret of the Elevator To Heaven.
The secret is that it is no secret. Actually, you’ve probably been in it.
How? Well, nearly every elevator is an Elevator To Heaven.
Look, just step in the elevator and wait for the doors to close.
Then, touch the 8 button.
Push it in hard and rotate it a quarter-turn.
Then release the button.
See? You’ve got an infinity symbol now.
Just wait a minute, and the doors will open to Heaven’s Lobby.
Just be sure to stub out your cigarette. God hates smoke.
That’s why He made Hell.

Par Of Dice

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“God does not play dice with the universe,” said the old professor, “He plays dice with the Franelli Brothers in the alley.”
Joe, Luigi, God, and Tony were huddled around a pile of money, some beer bottles, a pizza box, and a pair of dice.
God picked them up. “Baby needs a new crown of thorns,” he muttered, and threw.
“Why do you let bad things happen to good people?” I asked.
“Because they don’t pay up,” said Joe.
Luigi laughed and looked at God. “Is we forgiven?”
“Yeah, yeah,” said God. “Pass the bones, Jack. I’m feeling lucky tonight!”

Struck Noon

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Every day at twelve, the clock struck Noon and the town went mad.
Fights and burnings – you name it. If there’s something wrong that a soul can do, when that clock strikes Noon it happens.
They tried to burn the clock tower down, but stone doesn’t burn. No door at its base, either, nor could they climb up it.
They tried ladders. As they reached the top, it was Noon, and they smashed the ladders to toothpicks.
Pits dug to undermine it or blast it up never got deep enough. Sledgehammers broke on the stone.
It’s almost Noon.
Listen closely.

Chew Bubblegum

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“I came here to kick ass and chew bubblegum,” said the hero. “And I’m all out of bubblegum.”
The villain checked his pockets.
“I think I have some bubblegum,” he said.
“What?” asked the hero.
“I have some gum,” said the villain, holding out a pack. “Strawberry flavor?”
“I like strawberry,” said the hero.
The villain handed the hero a piece.
“Thank you,” said the hero, sticking it in his mouth. “That’s nice of you.”
He chewed it, blew a bubble, and fell over dead.
The villain laughed his best laugh, then stopped when he realized nobody could hear him.

Shouting

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Jerry tried to think of worse things to shout in a movie theater than “Fire!” He ran down the list in his notebook, shouting each one.
The theater owner didn’t appreciate his field research and banned him from the theater.
Never one to give up easily, he tried other theaters, but his face was on a printout at the box office.
So he went from town to town, but the theater chains caught on to his act.
Jerry became a master of disguise, using false noses and wigs and sunglasses to alter his appearance.
Eventually, the worst word became “JERRY!”

Reality Show

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The producer called the show “Back From Hell.”
The rules? Die, go to Hell, and then make it back.
First one wins a million bucks.
We’d take cameras with us and send video back through a new technology someone had invented.
They weeded us down to twelve, handed out pills, and said “You have to do this willingly. Suicide is a mortal sin.”
A dozen deaths later, we arrive in the Woods – the middle ring of the Seventh Circle. Our corpses hang from our branches.
“Now what?” we say.
I knew I should have tried that Ballroom Dancing show instead.

Office Clown

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Ned was the office clown.
He put trick candles on birthday cakes for coworkers. They’d blow out, but the candles kept relighting themselves.
He loosened the wheels from office chairs. Everyone fell down and cracked their ass.
He stole all the toilet paper from the bathrooms. Paper towels, too. Folks started carrying their own.
He added Thalidomide to the water coolers. Then he’d knock up secretaries and they’d have twisted flipper-babies.
The judge didn’t find that last one funny.
Ned tried to be the clown of his cell block in prison. Instead, he ended up the bitch.
Now that’s funny.

The Pain Bank

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They called it a pain bank.
Just like blood banks store blood and sperm banks store sperm, pain banks store pain.
From pinpricks and itches through agonizing toothaches all the way up to the worst gut-wrenching, torture imaginable, they had every kind of pain in their massive iron vaults.
Suffering too much pain? Put in a deposit.
Feeling detached, or looking for a little masochistic rush? Head to an ATM. Make a withdrawal.
Feel something. Feel something really bad for a while.
Getting over the pain is the biggest rush, you know.
Just don’t fall behind on your interest payments.