I see advertisements for Cruella all over the place.
They’re fucking obnoxious and ugly.
I don’t know anyone who saw Cruella in the theatre.
I don’t know anyone who paid extra to see Cruella on Disney Plus.
I don’t know anyone who paid for the Cruella DVD.
I don’t know anyone who watched Cruella on Disney Plus for free.
Hell, I know people who will bite out their tongue and bleed to death if they tie them up and force them to watch it.
How the hell can these Disney assholes afford so many advertisements for something nobody wants to watch?
Impact
Books open people to new ideas and worlds.
I think back to the books that impacted my life.
The Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary that had so many words to learn and use.
The encyclopedias in the library that taught me so much about history and science.
The Bible, which taught me about faith and religion, but also of excuses to be hateful and fearful of others.
The one that impacted me the most?
I never actually caught the title.
Only the blows to my head and body when my mother couldn’t find her wooden spoon for the constant beatings and spankings.
Rise up and up
Dan built a platform for the camera. Then he rigged it to a weather balloon.
Filling the balloon, until it was ready to release.
And that’s when Dan cut the tether.
The balloon rose, pulling the platform with it.
But the tether was lashed around Dan’s ankle and he was yanked up with the balloon.
Without a knife to cut the line, he was hauled into the sky.
Higher and higher, colder and colder, until the air was too thin to breathe.
Then, the balloon burst, and the platform fell.
Later, someone found the platform, camera, and Dan’s broken corpse.
Scooter things
I live in a golfing and tennis resort community, even though I don’t golf or play tennis. A lot of people drive around in golf carts. They drive in the bike lanes, which scares the crap out of joggers and walkers and cyclists who are wearing headphones. Even though teenagers can’t get drivers licenses, through a technicality, they can still drive golf carts around, electric bikes, and weird one wheeled scooter things. Every now and then you hear about some kid losing control and hitting someone or something. There’s a lot of white crosses on the side of the road.
Rita
Rita taught English in Dubai and lost her teaching job after she complained that half the kids in her class were named Mohammed. That’s all the administration heard and they fired her right on the spot. It had nothing to do with the fact that the kids all dressed alike, let alone while having the same name. And she couldn’t go by last name because they all had similar last names like Saladin. And the parents got mad when she would give them numbers calling on Mohammed one, Mohammed, two, Mohammed three. She was replaced by a teacher named Mohammed.
Baban
There were angry marches all over the world.
Earth is sexist.
Earth is racist.
Earth is bigoted.
The Baban Empire’s embassies offered free trips to their paradise worlds.
They recruited heavily at the marches.
And millions of the discontent boarded their ships to fly off and never be seen again.
The marches grew smaller and fewer, and eventually stopped.
And things were better. So much better.
Some videos came back, happy people on other worlds.
But the truth was, the Baban were flying the ships over Mercury and dumping their cargoes before returning back for more.
Good riddance to them.
Weekly Challenge #1023 – PICK TWO Someone else, Roast, When will it stop?, Support Network, Moonwalk
- Richard
- Lisa
- Tom
- Lizzie
- Serendipidy
- Norval Joe
- Planet Z
RICHARD
Moves like stagger
On Mondays, I run a support network for people who think they can moonwalk, but they can’t.
You’d be surprised how many think they’re channelling Michael Jackson, when in reality their dancing sucks; and that’s being generous.
I hang out at wedding venues and school reunions, armed with business cards and flyers. On a good night, I can get a dozen referrals from traumatised wives and embarrassed family members, all desperate to wean their husbands, brothers and cousins off the mistaken belief they can dance like MJ.
Wednesdays: it’s Dirty Dancing… and, for the weekend – Saturday Night Fever, naturally.
SERENDIPIDY
“When will it stop?”
“When you’re done” I reply, adding more fuel to the fire, watching the flames burn ever higher.
Eventually, your screams turn to whimpers, and then, after a while the only sound is the crackle of burning wood, and the sizzle of your flesh.
That’s the tricky part, where the real skill comes in. Like sausages on a barbecue, you don’t want the outside burned and blackened, whilst the inside is still pink and raw.
Neither do I want you burned to a crisp.
Trust me, it takes an expert to obtain the perfect roast.
LISA
Professor Gilbert’s Secret
This is the dying testimony of Laurence Gilbert. I know I have been unparalleled in my field for decades. And can only now, on my deathbed reveal the reason.
I moonwalk into every lecture – it drags even the most unresponsive student’s eyes up from their screens. Then, I immediately hypnotise the students. They become someone else in my lectures. Some I retain and they do my bidding: mostly reading.
All students I make study. With their minds open I pour information in and give them the tools to regurgitate it.
I can’t say I’m sorry for anything I have done.
TOM
Same as it ever was.
“It was as dark and stormy night “said the joke to the thief. “When will it stop?” said the dwarf to the elf. “If the sun does rise in the morning, we must find Someone Else.” Of course, Someone Else was the mightiest Warlock in Limbo, not to be disturbed lightly. Which is the only way a pixie can disturb Any One, them being the Council of Elders. Consulting the Elder Scroll the 8th level Bard broke into song. In total discuss the Dragon Spawn fried the cursed lute with a breath of fire. Then a DOA swamped the network.
NORVAL JOE
Linoliamanda looked over Sabrina’s shoulder. “Is that your grandmother in the locket?”
“No,” Sabrina replied. “It’s someone else.”
Patrick cut in, “Where’s that tornado taking Mr. Vanpoot? When will it stop? Will he survive?”
Sabrina shrugged. “Maybe the police station. Maybe the hospital.”
Mrs. Weinerheimer said, “We should get home and sort this out. Is there anything else that you brought with you Patrick?”
“There’s some stuff in the van, but not much,” he said.
After they found more of Sabrina’s things in the van they drove to Bobbie’s house.
“Stay here tonight, Patrick,” Bobbie said. “Dad’s going to jail.”
PLANET Z
Back in the 80s, the moonwalk was all the rage. Johnny would moonwalk at the front of the class every time he aced a quiz or test. Or if he got the last of the pepperoni pizza at lunch, big moonwalk. He was also supposed to be the star quarterback for the school, but in his first game first play, he threw an absolute bomb of a pass that his receiver caught in the end zone for a touchdown, and Johnny moonwalked and his cleat caught in the grass and he tore up his knee and he never played again.
The mothers of defection
We put together a band.
Played covers in our garage, played a few gigs.
Wrote a few songs, played a few more gigs.
Got on the radio.
Cut an album, and it went up the charts.
Went on tour, filled some music halls.
Wrote a few more songs, did a festival.
Went on tour again, and then we filled some stadiums.
Wrote a few more songs, made a film, cut another album, went on tour again.
Had a few fights, sued the record label, the record label sued us.
We sued each other.
And we all went our separate ways.
The death trains
Another train rolls in to Pelosi state penitentiary, Unloading the surviving passengers, hose out the vomit and blood and shit before sending the train back out again for more.
The prisoners are sorted by their crimes.
This one, 10 years for misgendering.
That one, 15 years for saying all lives matter.
And the worst, bakers who refused to make gay wedding cakes.
They send the Trump supporters to the right gate, to lay in a pit and wait for the bullet in the back of the head.
Another train rolls in, and the crematorium’s smokestacks fill the sky with ash.
Bobby’s no good
Bobby was a rough kid.
His mother said, you, you’re no good, Bobby.
So he left home.
Went out on the road.
Bobby went to a psychic to read his future.
This line says you’ll live a short, violent life.
This line says you and money? No way.
And this line says nobody’s ever gonna love you.
And Bobby gave her three black eyes.
Bobby met a girl. He met many girls.
The girls who like bad boys, but they never lasted.
And the last one, she put a knife in his back.
Bobby bled out in the street, laughing.