Sometimes, vendors will send representatives to grocery stores to offer up free samples.
I walk by them without acknowledging that they are there.
The worst are the wine vendors.
They step out and get in your way to offer wine.
“Would you like to try this wine?” they say, right in my face.
So, I respond “Is it good enough to justify flushing five years of sobriety down the toilet?”
If they say yes, then I say “And you’re just offering me a sample? Give me the whole bottle, you bitch!”
I have to order my groceries for pickup now.
Nice clean accident
I played a lot of video games with my friend Jamie.
He was supposed to be doing homework while undergoing dialysis treatments, but who would dare give a sick kid an F?
I was enough of a tissue match, and I gladly gave up one of mine.
And things were great. Best friends forever.
Until I got sick.
Kidney disease.
Which means Jamie’s also doomed.
We did some research, hacked some medical records.
Found a guy nearby who’s a match. And healthy, too.
We’ll break into his garage, cut his motorcycle’s brake lines, and hope for a nice, clean accident.
Unlisted Number
This looks like an ordinary statue, but it’s actually the legendary Golem of Prague.
Write a name on a piece of paper, put it in the Golem’s mouth, and the Golem will hunt that person down and kill them.
It’s not all that discriminating.
If you write JOHN SMITH on a piece of paper and stick it in its mouth, it won’t just go after the John Smith you want dead.
It will kill as many of them as possible.
Oh, look. It’s moving.
I stuffed the phone book in its mouth earlier.
I hope you have an unlisted number.
Frozen Vegetables
I know that microwave meals aren’t healthy.
Too much salt, too many preservatives.
Which is why my freezer is full of bags of mixed frozen vegetables.
Before, I had to dump a bag into a big mug, put a small plate on the mug as a cover, and microwave it.
If the bag was a solid block of veggies, it took a while to break it up to get everything into the mug.
Now, the bags are microwaveable, so I can microwave them and then dump the ready contents into the mug.
Either way, they also made excellent ice packs.
Good morning, Miss Cavanaugh
Back in my day, I went to a one-room schoolhouse.
And Miss Cavanaugh taught everybody, from toddlers to teenagers.
All of the kids were brought to the VR lab and hooked into the colony’s computer.
Jacked into our lessons individually, with a personalized lesson plan and curriculum.
With our own Miss Cavanaugh.
Everyone came out book smart, but even with breaks and evenings and weekends, we came out socially awkward as all hell.
They changed up the simulations to include friends, rivals, cliques, and bullies.
It works so much better now. Miss Cavanaugh agrees.
And she never wants to retire.
Jesusland
The Holy Land Theme Park doesn’t have any rides.
“The Gospel is the greatest ride of all time,” said the park’s owners. “Come take a ride with Jesus.”
There were protests at the opening of the park, calling their hiring practices discriminatory against non-believers.
Other protests called the park a giant fraud when the owners claimed religious tax exemptions.
And then there were those who accused the owners of trying to commercialize their faith.
One guy in a robe and beard overturned the security tables.
He was dragged away, and rumored to have been crucified.
So, how’s your Goliath burger?
Weekly Challenge #952 – Red Wine
The next topic is PICK TWO Pebbles, Shiny, A monkey’s wedding, Footlights, Listen, Birthday cake
NORVAL JOE
“It sounds like your dad is getting pretty bad.” Billbert paused before he asked, “Has he hit you?”
“No,” Mandi said, sadly. “Not yet, at least. If he starts to get too worked up, Mother gives him some red wine.”
“Wine!” Billbert gasped. “Is giving him alcohol a good idea?”
Mandi waved her hands. “No. It’s non-alcoholic. Daddy imports it from a vineyard in South Africa.”
Billbert stood. “I gotta go. You need to convince your parents to let you get back to school, or they’re going to send someone looking for you.”
Mandi nodded. “Right. That wouldn’t be good.”
SERENDIPIDY
I only grow grapes for white wine in my vineyard. Something to do with the soil, I believe, but I’m no expert, I just run the business.
However, I do know that red wine is far more popular with those who know their stuff and I can sell it for far more than the white.
All of which leaves me with something of a dilemma.
Nevertheless, I’ve come up with a solution: A secret ingredient that not only turns my wine red, but also enhances the taste.
It’s ferrous and deep.
You could say, it adds ‘body’ to the wine.
TOM
First Hangover
In my friend Tim’s backyard his Dad an otherwise homicide monster, build his son the coolest wooden fort. Later it became the home for 100 tumbler pigeons but that would be a different story. A shitty story that. Well, we 18 and we had moved from comic books to girls. And what better way to interact will the fairer sex then the introduction of red wine, Andre Cold Duck. The four of us squeegeed into the fort, four Dixie cups. Both Cindy and Helen nursed a single cup. Tim and I dusted off the other 700 ml. Morning came hard.
862
What happens next?
The what happen next of this story, is the phone call my roommate got, from his mother. It starts out with an excellent idea: we were going to perform a Moving Moon in front of the girl’s dorm. Let’s call him Jim, Jim is leaning out an open door as he drops his pants. The driver hits the gas. Jim tumbles into the street. We gather him up and head to the hospital. The med tech looks at Jim in confusion. “How is it you ripped your ass, but not your pants?” Bummer his mom was that hospital’s administer.
LIZZIE
He looked at the menu.
“Any red wine?”
The waiter shrugged.
“Any pizza?”
The waiter opened his eyes wide.
“Pizza?!” The waiter shook his head. “Here, Japanese food. If you want pizza, go to Italy.”
“How rude. I’ll just use my phone translator.”
He fired up the app and pointed the phone at the menu.
“Lots of dishes. Oh, wait a sec. Waiter!”
The waiter got back.
“Four bodies for 130 yen?!”
The waiter sighed.
“Yes, the other three are in the freezer. We’re just waiting for a fourth one.”
That’s when he decided to tiptoe out of there asap.
RICHARD
– An excellent vintage –
I always choose a bottle of wine from the menu by pointing, I tell the girls it’s because I don’t like to sound pretentious, so I keep it nice and discrete.
That’s not to say I don’t go through all the expected motions, giving it a good swirl, eyeing the depth of colour, checking the bouquet, and – of course – taking a good slurp to assess the palate before I’ll even think of accepting the bottle.
I know it doesn’t fool the sommelier, but it sure fools the girls.
And I always go for the cheapest house red.
Don’t tell them!
LISA
A Ritual Sacrament
Part of our ceremonies had a kind of communion aspect. We’d always sit in a circle for chants and singing. These assemblies made us feel like we really belonged. The rest of the world felt very far away from our safe little gathering.
He had a different cape for these sessions. It was white and long, skimmed the grass as he moved among us. They were often at night; lit by the stars. At the end we opened our mouths as if taking a wafer and red communion wine. He’d place a pill on our tongue as a drum banged.
PLANET Z
I don’t know what wine goes with what food.
I’ve never been a connoisseur or gourmet or any of that.
I know that I liked Chateu St. Jean’s cabernets, but only the even years.
The person at the store or the restaurant tells me to buy this or that.
And, yeah, they were right.
Too bad about the food I’d cook, it never quite came out right.
So I’d rely more on the restaurant than the fancy grocer.
These days, I don’t drink. (Health reasons, let’s leave it at that.)
So nothing goes with nothing. Just water, maybe iced tea.
CHATGPT
Anna swirled her glass of red wine, watching it catch the candlelight as the party buzzed around her. She was at her best friend’s engagement celebration, but her mind was elsewhere. The rich aroma reminded her of last summer in Tuscany, where she had met Marco. Those days were filled with laughter, late-night talks, and a promise to see each other again. But life had other plans. Now, as she took a sip, the bittersweet taste mirrored her memories. She smiled, knowing that every glass of wine would forever be a toast to love found and lost, but never forgotten.
The Temple of Dreams
Once a year, we go to the temple of dreams to dream.
The priests welcome us in, past a crowd of stumbling people
Sitting out in the hot sun, sweating out our sins.
Writing our prayers on strips of paper.
Lighting the sacred lamps, filled with sacred oil, and burning our prayers.
The smoke, rising to the gods.
As the sun goes down, we pass out, and we dream.
The gods tell us things, things for us and us alone.
Waking up the next morning, thirsty and hungry.
The priests usher us out the gates and welcome more pilgrims in.
Princess and the Frog
We should have never read “The Frog and The Princess” to Melanie.
Every night, she wants us to read her that story.
And now, her room has frog pillows, lilypad rugs on the blue carpet, and a frog night light.
She even made me put up frog wallpaper.
One night, Melanie snuck out to the swamp, looking for frogs.
I don’t know if she was trying to kiss them or put them in a bowl to keep as pets.
The sheriff found her, and it took her a while to shake off that pneumonia.
And longer for her frog obsession.
Deadbeat dads
Han Solo became a deadbeat dad.
Luke Skywalker, a failed teacher and pathetic hermit.
Willow… whatever that midget’s name was, a squib of a sorcerer.
While the hero, Mad Mordigan, dies offscreen of toxic masculinity.
The last of the heroes, Indiana Jones, a sad, worn out old man, dragged across the world by his goddaughter, until shot in the chest and begging to be left to die.
Queen Kathleen looks over the graveyard of Lucasfilm heroes and grins.
Her plan complete.
Bob Iger taps her on the shoulder.
Shows Kathleen the balance sheet, and says: “Get the fuck out, asshole.”