Bob Ross
Wasn’t a great artist
But he liked to teach art
So others
Who could potentially be great artists
Would be inspired
To practice, and make art.
And Bob
With his brushes
And paint
And canvas
Making happy little trees
And happy puffy clouds
Would wait for the director to shout CUT!
So he could go back home
And sit in the dark
With a bottle in his hand
And a loaded gun in his mouth
Maybe tonight
He’ll paint the walls
With his brains
His huge afro
Falling against the blood
To make one last happy puffy cloud.
Month: January 2019
Weekly Challenge #665 – Adult
Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.
This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
- Lizzie
- Jim
- Richard
- Tura
- Serendipity
- Duane
- Jerry
- Tom
- Jon
- Norval Joe
- Planet Z
LIZZIE
His first apartment was decorated in a simple, elegant way. The scent of vanilla welcomed her as she entered the living-room. A few books were scattered on the shelves, displayed to counterbalance the other objects. It looked like a setting, but he was proud of it, she could tell. A pot of white flowers and twin candles almost tricked her into believing he was a nice guy. He wasn’t. She had to run, screaming through the hallways. No one opened the door. No one helped her. And, at the hospital, she could still recall that sickening vanilla scent, welcoming her…
JIM
ADULT! Yes! That magic age of 18 when you no longer have to listen to anyone, especially your parents.
Okay, so now you can buy cigarettes and die for your country. But you can’t drink a beer. And all adults drink beer, right? So maybe you have to be 21 to be and “adult”.
So fine, you’re 21 and can get shitfaced legally. But wait, you’re male, and don’t get a break on auto insurance until you are 25.
So now you are 25, you are
This is getting complicated. Peter Pan had the right idea.
RICHARD
Bookshop
It was a right of passage that we’d looked forward to for many furtive years: That sacred moment when, having come of age, we would finally see what lay behind the curtain at the bookshop.
On that fateful day, myself, Andy and Jack, waited with perspiration on our brows and proof of age in our sweaty hands.
No more for us the comic books and fairy stories of youth… Today we would finally gain access to the mysteries of the ‘Adult’ Section.
We entered reverently.
And discovered for the first time that grown up books are boring, dull and drab.
Grown up?
“You need to grow up”, said my dad, “if you want to be treated like an adult, it’s about time you acted like one!”
I took his words to heart, and as the years went by, I put aside my childish, ignorant ways, and became what I’d like to think is a grounded and mature member of society.
Now, I look around me…
At the celebrities, the movie stars, the politicians and the world leaders.
And the words of my dad come flooding back to me.
And I wonder what the hell their dads told them, when they were kids?
Seven Ages
My favourite bit of Shakespeare is his ‘Seven Ages of Man’; there’s such a simplicity and truth in the way he approaches the immutable, relentless and ultimately futile passage of life, from the mewling, puking baby, to the drooling, witless descent into oblivion at life’s end.
If there is an Almighty, you have admire his sense of humour as he watches us strive towards adulthood, only to be ultimately defeated by the inescapable descent into the second childhood of old age.
Where finally, sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, we become babes once more.
At the end, pure, empty… Un-adulterated.
TURA
Adult
———
I love adult entertainment. Intellectual conversation over a dinner of impeccable good taste, with incidental music from a baroque chamber ensemble. Philosophical lectures delivered to enquiring minds. Performances of the latest improvised conceptions of an up and coming young pianist. A private opening at an art gallery, for a select group of connoisseurs. A stroll through one of the great museums of the world, accompanied by a fellow expert on some singular piece of history.
But judging by the garish flashing neon sign, and the unclad ladies standing within the red-lit doorway, I don’t think that’s what this establishment offers.
SERENDIPIDY
They never make it to become adult.
The vast majority flop about for a while, then quietly expire within a few hours – a few days at best – of entering this world.
But, I’m not dispirited, because every failure brings me one step closer to success.
And so the work continues: Fusing flesh and bone, organs and muscle in ever new and unique ways, seeking out the perfect combination that I can truly call my offspring.
Of course, I could take the traditional route for producing children, and just have sex.
But have you seen what that involves?
It’s disgusting!
DUANE
When I was a kid, we had a big country fair every summer. I would walk for hours looking at the endless farm exhibits and the huge barns full of show animals. There was a big stage with bands playing music. The midway was full of rides and games. There were tons of food booths too. It took all night to get around it.
The other day I came across the old fairgrounds on Google maps. It was barely bigger than a football field. I wish the world was still as big as it was when I was a kid.
JERRY
Yes, everyone tells us that we much grow up and be adult in all things.
Religions tell us this.
When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.
Accordingly I attempted to emulate those people around me and I was very successful in mimicking the actions of those people.
I was accepted among them.
Now I have found, that by my own decision, I can eat chocolate cake for breakfast if I want.
And I do.
TOM
Covering the Bases
When I was in 2nd grade I was given a list of 10 commandments that I had the opportunity to sin at. Most made nominal sense, others none. Take Adultery, to the
JON
Adult Content
By
Jon DeCles
A place on the net called Tumblr made its fame, and sold its advertising, on the basis of pornography. You don’t go to the grocery store to buy petrol. It made clear what it offered, but it also included other stuff that might be of interest to adults. Lots of art, some politics, links to music. Children were not allowed to visit. Somebody hid some kiddie porn under the rug. Apple decided to no longer offer the site on its store. Tumblr tumbled and banned adult content. It is now a site where adults are no longer allowed to visit.
NORVAL JOE
Linoliumanda frowned. “What’s a grocery bag have to do with flying?”
Billbert shrugged. “I don’t know. But my dad says when I’m an adult I should be able to fly without it.”
Linoliumanda folded her arms in front of her. “So, you’re not magic?” She sounded disappointed.
“Call it what you want,” Billbert said. “I can fly and someday I can do it whenever I want, with or without a grocery bag.”
She hugged him suddenly. “You’re right. Superpower, magic, it’s really all the same thing.”
“Well, isn’t this sweet. Two little love nerds,” Roderick’s derisive voice sounded behind them.
PLANET Z
I bought a plug-in hybrid car recently.For the past month, it has barely used any gasoline.My gas station credit card has been rendered completely useless.The 5% cashback period for Discover is moot.And I’ve changed my flexible bonus credit card to reward me for online shopping instead of gas.I stopped by my usual gas station for a car wash.After driving through the car wash, I looked over my car and saw that parts of it were still dirty.With all that I’m saving on gas, I’ll go to the fancy hand-wash place down the street.
Ballet thieves
Bill and Benny are art thieves.
They steal art.
But not the art that other art thieves steal.
Like paintings or statues.
These guys steal ballets.
How do you steal a ballet?
I don’t know, but they do.
And there’s nothing more boring than a bunch of anorexic chicks in tights, tutus, and slippers just standing around.
Waiting for the police to find their production of Swan Lake.
Bill and Benny are smart.
They don’t use Craigslist or fences to get cash for the ballet.
They also respect the art of dance.
Just pay the ransom, and nobody gets hurt.
Whatever happened to
It’s been years since anybody’s seen a tuba.
Sure, we’ve seen oboes and sousaphones and clarinets, but a tuba?
No. No tubas.
One day, there were tubas everywhere. As far as the eye could see.
But now? Not a tuba to be found.
Look in all the music stores. Look on eBay. Look on Craigslist.
No tubas at all.
Look in the dictionary. Tuba isn’t there.
it’s not on Wikipedia either.
Google it, and nothing comes up.
It’s like China and the Massacre at Tiennamen Square.
Except with tubas.
What did we do wrong?
And how do we fix this?
It’s cheaper here than…
My brother went off to college in Boston.
Every few months, he’d come home.
And he’d go shopping with my parents to buy up the things he’d need.
“It’s cheaper here than in Boston,” he’d say.
And it was. Boston, being a big city, had high prices.
While Columbus prices weren’t so high.
Also, the sales tax in Massachusetts was much higher than in Ohio.
So, yeah, things were much cheaper here than in Boston.
Never mind the fact that he’d get my parents to buy all those things here, as opposed to having to buy them himself in Boston.
All of the names
Back in Fifth Grade, the Math teacher taught us basic geometry.
She handed out a test with shapes on it.
“Name each shape,” she said.
When I saw a square, I called it a square.
When I saw a hexagon, I called it a hexagon.
And so on.
When I got my test back, I saw a big red F on it.
“All of the names” the teacher wrote in red.
The square was also a polygon, a quadrilateral, a rectangle, and a rhombus.
I called her all the names I thought she was, and landed in the principal’s office.
Sniper
Today’s lesson from Master Gallagher is how to shoot your target while facing a headwind.
One must ensure that the bullet is smooth and the balance is perfect.
Otherwise, it will corkscrew in the air and go wild.
To reduce this effect, you must fire from an absolute minimum safe distance.
Unlike calm days, when you can achieve greater accuracy from longer ranges.
Brace the rifle steady.
Take a beep breath, exhale, and squeeze the trigger gently.
The watermelon at the other end of the football field explodes.
“Grab your mallets,” he says, grinning. “It’s time for your next lesson.”
Dalton Trumbo
The irony
Of Dalton Trumbo’s
Johnny Got His Gun
Is that Dalton
Had been
Grievously injured
When a car
Hit him
And he lost his
Arms
Legs
And face
Leaving him
Completely helpless
And the only way
He could
Communicate
Was to fart
In Morse Code
It took a while
For the nurses
And doctors
To realize that
He was trying
To communicate
They fed him beans
And onions
And broccoli
All day long
While a troop
Of Boy Scouts
Handled the transcriptions
That’s how
He wrote the book
The critics
Said that it stunk
Tell that
To the Boy Scouts
Weekly Challenge #664 – Corner
Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.
This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
We’ve got stories by:
- Lizzie
- Richard
- Serendipity
- Jerry
- Tom
- Jon
- Norval Joe
- Duane
- Planet Z
LIZZIE
Corner
Go to your corner, they said. And I did. I went to my corner. I was only a child and I had to obey.
Today, I am not a child anymore.
When they say, go to your corner, I laugh and walk away.
Today, I am an adult and my corner is not their corner. My corner is my place and it’s my world and it’s my people. My corner is not obeying anymore, no.
When they say, why have you changed so much, I laugh and walk away.
Today, I choose my corners and smile and live and shine.
RICHARD
Life Lessons
On reflection most of my time at school was spent outside the classroom.
If I wasn’t doing penance by standing in the corridor, I was waiting in the secretary’s office, sent to see the head teacher.
That was when I actually got to school in the first place: Often I’d bunk off for the day, or hang around the bike sheds well after break times and lunch had ended.
Even when I was in class, I’d usually find myself stood in the corner for misbehaving.
Miraculously, somehow I became a teacher.
And none of my classes will ever make those same mistakes!
SERENDIPIDY
They gave me the corner plot, as far from ‘decent folk’ as they could put me.
If they’d had their way, they’d have burned me at the stake and scattered my ashes far and wide; but civic duty prevailed, and I received a proper burial, although those attending only did so to ensure I was buried deep.
Not that it matters.
Every night, I dig myself out and head off into the night to continue my unspeakable work.
And every morning, before sunrise, I return to the darkness of the earth.
They really should have burned me at the stake!
JERRY
The howls of the wolfs sounded around the
Leaving the sheltering cave with its warm fire had been a bad mistake but I had to have food.
It had been three days since I ate the last of the dried berries.
I needed to find meat before weakness overcame me.
The howls of the
I was freezing.
I needed a corner to hide in, eat the squeaker, and get warm.
If I remembered my school lessons a corner was always 90 degrees.
TOM
God Rest Yee
In the corner laden with a layer of dust rested Timmy’s crutch. When Timmy’s grandchildren came to visit he would tell the tale of a Christmas long ago when the spirits of the holiday had soften the heart of his mentor Ebenezer. The youngest, Cindy Loo, ask if her grandpa was really that tiny a child. He smile and told her if it had been for his father’s employer he would have likely never grew any big. Cindy look confused. Timmy picked her up and place her on this shoulder. “Let go find some mistletoe.” Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence
JON
The Corner of the Year
By
Jon DeCles
I am so tired of people telling me Christmas is over, or trying to promote the buildup as the Twelve Days of Cashmas.The fact is, the Season of Christmas is defined as the time between the first Sunday of Advent (four weeks before Christmas Day) and the Epiphany, January Sixth. The Twelve Days of Christmas are the days between Christmas and Epiphany. We get this celebration, and the Christmas Carol, from England, so we can follow English practice. Twelfth Night is January Fifth. The night when we turn the corner of the cycle and don’t party for a while.
NORVAL JOE
The following Monday morning, Billbert waited for the school bus. Things appeared almost back to normal. His dad had finally stopped freaking out and his mother seemed to just shrug off the fact that someone had seen his superpower.
Until Linoliumanda rounded the corner. The second she saw Billbert, she ran for him and grabbed his hand. “Come on. Let’s fly to school.”
“Slow down,” Billbert said, nervously looking around and relieved to find no one else had come to the bus stop yet. “No one’s supposed to know about my superpower. Besides, I don’t have my plastic grocery bag.”
DUANE
Corner
It was hard to breathe. I stood with my back to the corner and tried to be invisible. The urge for flight or fight was kicking in along with a big dose of adrenaline. All I had was my guitar. I could use it as a weapon if I needed to. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. I started moving along the wall towards the hall. As I made the turn and started down the hall there was shouting. Someone yelled my name. I heard a crowd roar. I turned back and started forward, doing what I’ve always done.
PLANET Z
I used to work in an office with no windows.
But I’m moving to a corner office.
It has a beautiful view of the city and the sunsets are gorgeous.
Lots of natural light, which my doctor says I need much more of.
There’s a lot more room in there, too.
Even though two of the office’s walls are used up by windows, there’s the same amount of wall space available.
It’s perfect… for someone who isn’t terrified of heights.
I’m worried that if I lean back to far… just like this…
Wait. Did you hear a cracking sound, too?
Clothing Drive
I’d like to think that if Mickey Mouse ever wrote up a will, he’d leave his pants to Donald Duck.
Because it’s really rude, walking around without pants. Especially at a funeral.
There’s not much point in leaving his shoes to the duck. They probably won’t fit those big webbed feet.
And if Donald ever wrote up a will, he’d leave his sailor shirt to Mickey Mouse.
If Goofy died, he could leave his pants to Donald, and his vest to Mickey.
And his hat to Pete, because it looks so much friendlier than the bowler hat that Pete wears.