Usually when I travel to a conference or go on vacation, I buy a ballcap with a local sports team logo on it so I can blend in.
When I went to Portland, I got a green Oregon Ducks hat.
When I went to Phoenix Arizona, I got a black hat with Devils on it, for the Arizona State Sun Devils.
However, when I went to Columbus Ohio for a writer’s conference, I didn’t buy a hat.
I lived here for ten years.
I don’t want to blend in.
I just want to get the fuck out of here.
Again.
Turn on the fan
The complex says that they will fix the air conditioning today.
It’s been nearly two weeks.
The part they needed didn’t arrive until Monday.
But it was storming Tuesday, so they couldn’t start until Wednesday.
An optimist would say that this is the perfect time of year for it.
A pessimist would say why the fuck didn’t you rip the part of of a unit that isn’t occupied and put it in ours?
Never underestimate the stupidity of humans in positions of responsibility.
Tinny is asleep in my lap. She doesn’t give a damn.
I turn the fan on high.
Man in the Field
Lou was our agent in the field.
He spread out a blanket in the field, sat down, and took a nap.
Unless it was raining. Then he’d nap in his car.
“Is there anything going on?” we’d ask Lou, checking on him.
“One second,” he say, and look around. “Nope. Nothing at all.”
“Good work,” we’d say.
Lou really liked working in the field.
Even though it wasn’t much work at all, really.
At the end of the day, Lou would get up, fold up the blanket, and drive back home.
Unless it was raining. Then he’d just drive home.
Weekly Challenge #693 – PICK TWO alligator, bath, vindictive, caterwaul, mildred, bruises, That’s Life, mush
- Richard
- Lizzie
- Norval Joe
- Serendipidy
- Tom
- Planet Z
NORVAL JOE
Linoliumanda dropped to Billbert’s side, checked carefully for bruises and then threw her arms around him. “You poor boy. What happened to you?”
One of the boys in the crowd laughed and said, “That’s life. You mess with a guy’s girlfriend, he just might turn you into mush. I don’t think Tony was being vindictive, just protecting what he thought was his.”
Linoliumanda sat back on her feet and frowned. “You’ve been messing around with a girl other than me?”
Billbert coughed. “No. I just told Marrissa I’d meet her at the dance. I was hoping you’d be there, too.”
SERENDIPIDY
he first rule of Fight Club, is you don’t talk about Fight Club.
That makes it difficult to explain away some of the consequences of Fight Club.
There’s the cuts and bruises, black eyes and the occasional missing tooth, and when you walk into work sporting a fresh set of injuries, people are going to ask questions.
Now, I’m not a vindictive person but somebody has to take the rap, and that somebody is my husband.
That’s why everyone in work thinks he’s a wife beater, and it’s also why everyone at Fight Club is out to get the bastard!
TOM
Extreme Skill Set-
Frank was the goto person when you need a particularly difficult job done. Take alligator bathing. Not number one on my list, but then I’m not Frank. Frank discovered gators are rather fond of bubble baths. They like to have their stomachs rubbed with a brisk bath brush. Odd as this might seem prefer cold water to hot. I ask Frank once what was the trickiest part of bathing an alligator? “It not so much the bathing part,” noted Frank, “It’s the towel drying. They tend to see this as an excellent opportunity to take off your arm.”
Queen of the Adriatic –
Aaa Venice. Piazza San Marco St. Mark’s Basilica, the home of the Gothic masterpiece Doge’s Palace. A city so historic a permit for a skylight cost one10,000 lira and take three years to process. A city will worst August disease victors then Paris. A city whose mere air did in the heir to the Holy Roman Empire. A city sinking into the sea, because unlike most respectful city is pretty much built on mud. The only reason it has gone the way of Atlantis is millions of peer of Alder has resisted the effect of the sea. A city on peers
RICHARD
Bathtime
My wife had that look in her eye again.
The pile of towels that she dumped unceremoniously next to me, accompanied by that accusatory sigh, spoke more eloquently than any words ever could.
“We’ve been through this before”, I said. “Your dog: Your responsibility! If you’re going to let him play in the mud, you bath him!”
She grabbed the towels and headed for the bathroom, grumbling.
I waited for the inevitable shrieks, crashes and cursing that would follow, whilst idly pondering the practicalities of buying her an alligator for her birthday.
Now, that would be a bathtime worth watching!
LIZZIE
The pilot wanted to land the plane. He wanted to drop every single passenger safely at the airport. He checked his flight plan and was confident he could do just that. He greeted them one by one. He smiled and exchanged a few words of encouragement with those flying for the first time. Mid-air, the stewardess said someone wanted to talk to him. He left the cabin and… saw her. He knew right there and then that the passengers weren’t safe. He was going to kill a few and bruise a bunch.
“Where is she sitting, again?” he asked, sneering.
PLANET Z
It’s okay to sing in the shower.
But dancing in the shower is a bad idea.
You’ll slip and fall.
Maybe you’ll hit your head on something.
And if you wake up, you’ll wake up bloody and bruised.
Everything’s blurry and out of focus.
What the hell just happened?
You check your teeth… they’re all still there.
See the blood in the shower, check yourself for cuts.
Try to dry your hair with a towel, blood on the towel.
And as you try to get out, you slip again.
Hit your head again.
And back into the dark you go.
Made a mess
I can’t remember the maid’s name.
Maybe it was Venezuela, or Rosita, or Maria.
She cleaned every Tuesday.
Which meant that any time we made a mess Wednesday morning, my mother would yell at us louder than usual.
Almost as loud Thursday, maybe a bit less loud on Friday.
All the way to Monday night, which was pretty much “Eh, the maid will get it.”
And she did. The mess would be gone by the time we got home from school Tuesday afternoon.
God forbid we made a mess Tuesday evening.
We went straight to our rooms, hiding and cowering.
Hitler LASIK
People say that Dan wore Hitler-colored glasses.
Everywhere he looked, he saw Hitler.
They had thick black rims, and made Dan look nerdy.
So, he got Hitler-colored contacts.
Now, Dan looked cool, and he could still see Hitler everywhere.
However, Dan got tired of the cleaning solution.
And having to take them out and put them back in.
So, he signed up for Hitler Lasik surgery.
They could use lasers to burn Hitler into his eyes.
“Can you remove my Howard Dean tattoo so I can get a Hillary tattoo?” he asked the technician.
“Different kind of laser,” they said.
Hitler-colored glasses
People say that Dan wore Hitler-colored glasses.
Everywhere he looked, he saw Hitler.
He saw Hitler when he woke up.
He saw Hitler when he went down for breakfast.
He saw Hitler when he brushed his teeth.
He saw Hitler when he got on the bus to work.
He saw Hitler when he got coffee in the breakroom.
He saw Hitler in the daily meeting.
He saw Hitler when his boss gave him his review.
He saw Hitler everywhere.
It was when he took off his glasses, he still saw Hitler.
Washing his hands, in the mirror, across from Dan.
More likely
I’m sure that you’ve heard that a handgun is more likely to kill a family member than a burglar.
But what if the family member is a burglar?
In that case, I think it’s perfectly okay to kill them.
Especially if they’re going to rob my house.
It’s perfectly fine to kill them if they’ve just come home from robbing my house, too.
Hopefully, the police who show up to investigate the shooting will realize that the van in the driveway is full of stolen goods.
And not believe the bullshit story that they were in the middle of moving.
Angry
Aristotle said that it is easy for anyone to become angry, but knowing the right person, reason, time, and degree are not easy.
Somehow, Plato always knew.
“Why are you always in that dark cave?” shouted Plato.
Aristotle tried to hide something behind his back, but Plato shook the boy until a set of geometric forms fell to the ground.
“Those are mine!” growled Plato.
“They belong to Pythagoras!” whined Aristotle.
“I was respectful to my teacher,” said Plato.
“Oh, sure,” retorted Aristotle. “He probably drank the hemlock so he wouldn’t have to teach you anymore.”
Plato slapped Aristotle hard.
Trust of a cat
I never sleep well.
Myst pesters me when I try to sleep.
Pawing my face, claws out, biting my hands and toes.
I have bad dreams.
Too many hypocrites out there.
Making their way in.
With all their noise.
The bed’s too warm.
Sweating and reeking.
When I wake up, I lay on the sofa.
Tinny sniffs and headbutts me to check if I’m okay.
She finds a spot on my shoulder.
Settles in.
Grooms her fur for a few minutes.
Closes her eyes.
She trusts me.
And then she stops, tucks up, and sleeps.
That’s good enough for me.