Every year, my mom and dad would hire Bobo the Clown for my birthday, until I grew too old for clowns.
Facing the big fifty, I decided I wanted to see Bobo one more time.
Thing is, both my parents are gone. Maybe Bobo, too.
I did some searches, and had to hire a private investigator.
Three days to go, and he got a hit.
Bobo was rotting away in an old folks home.
I dropped by and thanked him, and apologized for getting too old for him.
“We all get too old,” he said, “Happy birthday.”
And died.


Every time I buy bread from the store, it gets smashed.
Even when I pack it myself.
Even when it’s the only thing I buy.
Even when I put it in my patented No Smash Bread Safe.
It ends up smashed.
So, I baked my own bread.
I used a bread baking machine, fresh ingredients, and 24/7 closed-circuit security camera coverage.
And it doesn’t end up smashed.
It smells so wonderful… so incredible… so fresh!
I pull it out of the baking pan, let it cool, and slice it with a razor-sharp bread knife.
And then I smash it.

Birthday Guy

Nobody ever remembers Ted’s birthday.
Not even Ted.
You know how people say “Hey, when’s your birthday? It’s coming up soon, right?” as an icebreaker?
Nobody does that with Ted.
It’s not even on his driver’s license. Or birth certificate.
The subject just never comes up.
Ted doesn’t really mind that he’s never had a birthday party or cake.
He doesn’t like attention or a lot of noise.
And he really doesn’t like cake. Or ice cream.
Now, when it comes to party hats, well, he likes wearing those.
On his crotch. And nothing else.
Let’s not invite him, okay?

Weekly Challenge #718 – SHARK

Kitty bag


A man sat by the shore at the beach.
Two little boats, sailing along the coast…, he muttered.
That sounds like the beginning of a story, someone in the group said, laughing. And continued walking.
Two little boats, sailing along the little coast, sailing along the rocky coast, sailing along… And he stopped, his eyes on the horizon.
The group had disappeared from his sight.
Two little boats, sailing along the sharky coast… He stopped again. Sharky… Shark. He shook his head and slid backwards, taking his feet out of the water.
One little boat, sailing along the lonely coast.


Great White Lie

As a teenager, I was into extreme sports. Unfortunately, these occasionally led to extreme injuries!

After the fifth shoulder dislocation, reconstructive surgery was the only option to repair my now, fairly useless, arm.

This was the days before keyhole techniques, and I became the proud owner of an eight inch scar, which I’d happily show off to impress the girls, who never failed to be mesmerised by the story of my heroic escape from the Jaws of a Great White shark.

I’d still be using the story today… Except the girls no longer want to see me without my shirt!


Welcome aboard!

Before you get settled in, I just want to make a few things clear, because a lot of people think this job is like what they see in the movies… It’s not!

We are a disciplined, professional and rational scientific outfit. Nobody is here for kicks, nobody acts recklessly, and we don’t drink whisky into the early hours singing raucous sea shanties and comparing scars.

Sharks are no joke – and that’s something you’ll find out soon enough.

Now, as for your assignments: Everyone on board has their designated role, and yours is very simple.

You’re the bait!


NaNa .. NaNaNa .. NaNa .. NaNa … NANA

“I’m Tired of being a Shark, I want to be a Jet.” “Hector we’re Puerto Ricoians, Puerto Ricoians aren’t Jets.” “Dude my name is Ivan O’Flaherty, I’ve dance in the Bolshoi and River Dance.” “Hector drill down into your Stanislavski. You got to feel your Latin Prowling Predator.” “I don’t want to prowl, I want to soar.” “Yea, Yea you really want to click your finger and look cool?” “So?” “We get way more pirouettes, then those sissy boy jets.” “What wrong with sissyes, you’ve been a pony or two on 42nd?” “Not the point, Sharks rule, don’t be a Jet Fool.”


As the single headlighted car came closer, the familiar tune of “Baby Shark”, came from the back seat. Obviously, the car was not his mother’s.
Billbert turned back to Marissa who attacked like a shark. “Tell me the truth, Billbert. I caught you red handed. How do you fly? If you tell me, I’ll keep your secret. If you don’t, I’ll tell everyone I know. And I know a lot of people.”
“Okay.” Billbert said. “I wear a plastic bag for underwear and it makes me float.”
Marissa gritted her teeth. “Don’t mock me. I told you. I’m not stupid.”


Two red flags means that there is a shark in the water.
Makes sense at the beach.
But not in my bathroom.
Is the shark in my tub, toilet, or sink?
Who do I call to get rid of a shark?
The landlord said I’m not allowed to keep pets and hung up on me.
I called the city. “There’s a shark in my bathroom.”
They told me to talk to my landlord.
“He hung up on me,” I said.
The city hung up on me too.
Do you know what I should do?
Besides pee in the kitchen sink?

I Love The Movies

I love the movies.
I love going to the movies.
I love the theater, the popcorn, the cokes, the sound…
Tear that ticket in half and hand me the stub.
The curtains open.
The lights go down.
Previews. Ads. Public service announcements.
I love all of this.
When I was little, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.
“In the movies,” I said.
Actor? Director? Producer? Makeup? Set designer?
Nope. I just want to be in the movies.
My English teacher said the right word is at, not in.
And I got an F.


I hate Henry.
I wish he was dead.
Everyone knew that.
One day, I got my wish.
Henry’s car exploded.
And Henry was dead.
I smiled.
And whispered:
“Thank you.”
To whoever.
Made the bomb.
Set the bomb.
And made Henry dead.
I went to the police.
And I said:
“Are you looking for me?”
They interrogated me
For hours
And hours
I told them nothing.
I just smiled.
They wanted a confession.
“I guess you’re not
Looking for me.”
They never found
The bomber.
Because i distracted the cops.
They got away.
Did they thank me?

Ziggy Marley

Bob Marley’s last words to his son Ziggy were: “Money can’t buy life.”
And then he died.
Ziggy was only thirteen.
At first he thought he’d meant that he could take all the Life cereal and Life board games he could grab.
But despite what Mikey says, Life cereal’s kinda bland. And that board game gets really boring after a while.
So, Ziggy practiced.
And then he made music, bought a nice car, bought a nice house or two, and bought a lot of nice things.
No, money can’t buy you life, but you can buy nice stuff for it.

Make The Pizza

I bought pizza dough, sauce, and a mozzarella ball the other day.
It didn’t take me long to shape out the dough.
While the dough rose, I harvested basil from the patio and washed it.
I rolled the dough flat twice, spread out the sauce, and arranged the basil.
Then I sliced up the mozzarella into thin sheets and laid it on top of the basil.
It only took 10 minutes to bake in the oven.
I cut up the pizza, took a bite, and it was wonderful.
But the cheese slid off too easily. Next time, I’ll shred it.

Temp Pass

When I get home after work, I usually put my keys and my door pass in my hat, and then I leave my hat on the side table.
However, I’ve recently bought a set of Hogwarts school ballcaps. I pick one at random in the morning and wear it to work. When i get home from work, I put the Hogwarts hat back in the pile, and the keys and door pass end up in my old hat.
Yep. Forgot the door pass today.
I sit in the lobby and wait for the receptionist to hand me a temporary badge.

The Needy Friend

Over the years, Andy’s computer has been a collection of all the parts that his friends have left over from when they upgrade their computers.
His battered and broken furniture is a jumble of sofas, tables, chairs, and shelves they replaced with newer stuff.
Andy’s car has always been a clunker that his friends couldn’t get trade-in credit for.
He’s on his fifth wife. All five have been ex-wives of his friends.
Now he’s in the hospital. He desperately needs a heart-lung transplant.
I guess we’ll have to wait and see which of his friends gets into a motorcycle wreck.