Category: My stories

Wild West Bar

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If you ever find yourself in a wild west bar, the last thing you want to ask the piano player for is Madonna’s “Borderline.”
Sure, her baby is pushing her love over the borderline, but there’s no need to start a fight over it.
People have gotten killed for less.
No, it’s better to stick to the newer stuff, like Vogue or… or…
Okay, all she’s doing now is lame Karaoke-style covers of classics while dancing in her underwear.
No, that shouldn’t be a cue to dance in your underwear in the wild west bar singing Madonna tunes.
As if!

Elbow Job

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It’s hard to keep a secret.
Some women, they’re good at giving head, but have you heard about the one who gives great elbow?
Of course not. Nobody ever says “She gives great elbow.” That’s crazy, right?
Well, if you’ve ever gotten great elbow, you wouldn’t think I’m crazy at all.
And even giving great elbow is good.
Know the saying “There’s no such thing as a bad blowjob?”
Well, there’s no such thing as a bad elbowjob or a good elbowjob.
It’s all great.
Here, just tuck in your arm and stick out your elbow.
You’ll see. Trust me.

The Joy Of Work

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The biggest joy of this new office is the fact that it takes me less time to get here and a lot less time to get home.
Sure, I used to read on the bus, or listen to music, or nap.
But now, I can spend that time the way I want to. No more rushing through other things because my day was eaten up by a stupidly long commute.
Of course, my joy at my shorter commute means that countless others have longer commutes of their own.
I’m so sad for them.
Like they never were for me.
HAH!

Drummer Boy

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I played my drum for him.
I played my best for him.
Did he like it? Did he smile?
No. He cried! He cried like a shrieking pig!
Why the hell was I playing a drum for a kid in a barn, surrounded by goats and camels and rats?
You don’t play drums for babies… you shake rattles. You pluck strings. Or play a flute.
You make goo goo noises in their faces until they clap and laugh and smile.
Stupid baby.
Probably won’t survive the night, anyway.
Hey, nobody’s watching the gold that old fart brought.
It’s mine! Sweet!

Speakers

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Ever have one of those weekends when everything goes totally wrong?
I download some music, click on the Play button, but I couldn’t hear any sound.
I turned the speakers on and off, but still, no sound.
Dammit.
Then I messed with the device settings in the computer, but I still couldn’t hear anything.
I spent the whole weekend changing out the speaker cable, then getting new speakers, and…
Wait a minute.
Are my headphones still plugged in?
Those mute the signal to the speakers, don’t they?
I’m sure my neighbors wanted to mute me for the next ten minutes.

Cucumber

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The doctor told me it was either lose weight or lose my life.
So forget the potato chips, folks – I’m on a diet.
It’s all vegetable snacks for me: carrots, celery, snow peas, and lots of cucumber slices.
Sure, it’s not easy to carry these things around with me everywhere, but there’s lots of those snack pouches at the grocery store these days.
Still, whenever I see a bag of potato chips, I feel the urge to buy it and tear it open and eat it.
My bodyguard then steps in to smash the bag into greasy potato dust.
Saved.

The Mad King

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King Rasmussen The Mad
For centuries, that name has haunted us.
If you listen carefully, you can still hear his living corpse shout and scream bloody murder from within his ruined castle.
Trapped inside a warlock’s time-bubble, his dying moment has been preserved for all eternity.
Sure, by law, he is still king. And we must obey his orders.
So that’s why we have hired deaf laborers to seal him up forever. They are filling in the cracks of the castle, and then they will pile dirt on the stone
Maybe we’ll plant some apple trees when it’s all over.

He lives on Elephant Street

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Mother told me to look both ways before crossing the street.
To the left, I saw an elephant. It looked sad and lonely.
To the right, I saw a jolly minstrel being attacked by kids with rocks. He looked frustrated at the abuse.
So I tell the minstrel to go cheer up the elephant.
He does, and the elephant begins to dance happily to the merry tune.
All these wonderful opportunities to make others happy, why should I ever cross the street?
Then I hear a sickening splat.
The elephant has crushed the minstrel.
Is the light green yet?
RUN!

Sweet Potato Fries

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There’s some thing special about sweet potato fries.
I’m sure you’ve eaten mountains and mountains of ordinary fries. Even dipped them in all sorts of stuff – ketchup, mustard, and even mayonnaise like in that movie.
But no matter how you get them – curly, crinkle-cut or whatever – they’re still the same potatoes in there.
So, for a change, that’s why you should try some sweet potato fries.
Just lay them out on a tray in the oven, bake ’em, and then get some ranch dressing to dip them in.
A little something different… well, until you get bored.
And go back.

Filthy

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The kitchen was positively, absolutely filthy.
Dishes piled up to the ceiling. Rats chewing on open boxes of instant pasta in the corner.
And the stove, well, I won’t tell you about the stove.
It was so repulsive, not even the rats would go near there. Cockroaches didn’t dare explore the greasy mountains caked in the corners of what used to be burners.
“So, what do you think?” asked the landlord.
“Well, the kitchen needs some serious work,” said the agent. “But about those rats…”
“Yes?” asked the landlord.
“Can I keep them as pets?” he said. “They’re so cuuuuuute!”