The mug was empty.
The cop sniffed it, after pulling it closer with a pen. He shook his head.
Then, they went through the whole house. Nothing looked out of place, except that one mug.
The cop sniffed it again.
“Whose drink was this?”
The old man shrugged, looking away.
He couldn’t remember, he said. Old age, you know.
When the police combed through the house again, they found it, the tin.
This was not a case of amnesia, but a case of death by hot chocolate, hot chocolate seasoned with a slight scent of almonds.
I’m no mug, so I tend to take junk mail with a large pinch of salt.
However, this latest one had all the hallmarks of being the real deal… For a start, he knew my name, and although I don’t make a habit of hobnobbing with Nigerian princes, I do work with a guy from Nigeria; so perhaps he passed my name on as a favour?
And yes, I am a trustworthy, kind and humble guy… Just like he said in his email.
Unfortunately, the wife is even less of a mug than me… and she controls the bank account.
The girls around here don’t like to go out after dark – there’s a story going around about some guy who will mug them in the shadows, abduct them without trace, and then dump their broken, lifeless bodies in the street.
That’s why I always offer to walk them home. It’s so much safer than going unaccompanied, and with my extensive experience in unarmed combat, I know they feel completely safe with me around.
Of course, that works very much to my advantage…
When the time comes for me to mug them in the shadows and abduct them, without trace!
Within its armored display case, it is traditionally titled “Lao-Tzu’s tea mug.” It much predates that sage, but it is said that he once held this vessel in his hands. Observe the random, fractally
The picture is always different.
Some viewers are struck with
This is why Lao-Tzu’s tea mug is held in the secret collections, accessible only to members of the Fiends of the British Museum.
Forever a Sweet Tooth
Mug Root Beer was my go to carbonated drinking. I wasn’t much a cola fan. Mug was produced by the Belfast Beverage Company of San Francisco. The company’s mascot was a dog named Dog. Pretty creative those marking guys. Of course the target audience was pretty much under 10. Not the most sophisticated consumer group. As a rule it was had a lighter taste then Hires, it was way less sweet then A&W. My first root beer was actually Dad’s which was produce just down the street from where I grew up the near north side. Not available in California
Sara knew what Bob wanted. The way he entered a room, the swagger of his hips as he walked toward her. The tilt of his head. The little boy smile on his lips. The sparkle in those deep blue eyes. The long blonde hair with just a little natural wave in it. Even the dimples in his cheeks were letting her know what was going on in Bob’s mind. Sara knew that she would give him what he wanted. She could do no less.
A few inches away and the words come from his mouth.
A mug of decaf please.
Music: El Mundo Submarino by The Mugris
The local police department has upgraded their mugshot camera. It now includes portrait mode and automatically touches up the photos. Been in a fight? The camera sets the lighting to take the rough of edges off your scrapes and bruises. Hair all awry from a three-day bender? No problem.This initially caused a crisis at the station with arrests spiking up. People would get arrested just to get a nice jailhouse photo for Facebook or Instagram. In the end, the police started charging for the shots and were able to cut back hours on traffic details and parking meter patrols.
Linoliumanda turned to stare down the bully. “We’re going back to my house to get my mom to drive us to school. Besides, I forgot my
Our new dog, Delphi, came to us with a mysterious past as they say she
was a stray. Her face, though, might say it all. A stern mug of
downturn corners, short muzzle, and a touch of an underbite, she could
have been into anything. We like to think she was mob boss of some
local dog gang in the deep south, getting rich on stolen sausage
links, betting on squirrel races, and hiding a stash of toy offerings
from the minions she ruled over. She spent her time in doggy jail and
now it’s the leisure life of rehabilitation.
The janitor cleaned out Detective Jansen’s desk
Not bothering to empty the World’s Greatest Dad mug, spilling stale coffee all over the other meaningless trinkets.
One day until retirement, he was.
No, he didn’t die in the line of duty.
No Hollywood buddy cop action movie here.
Sure, his wife and kids were dead, but that was in a car crash years ago.
Not by the hand of some drug lord or terrorist kingpin that Janson would bring justice to.
Just a heart attack, nothing more.
A sergeant would be promoted to take his place.
And life would go on.