Category: My stories

Crazy Plays

636183

When your team isn’t in the running and they’re up against other teams that won’t make the playoffs, you’re gonna see two things: lots of empty seats and lots of crazy plays.
The kids up from the minors, they’re all nervous about this being their one big shot. They’re trying to show off the fundamentals to the managers… or the scouts from other teams.
But the veterans, they’re tired from the long season. Some are on the bubble for free agency or options, they don’t want to make waves.
That one slugger… the franchise player.
Watch him… here he goes.

Happy Pirate Day

636188

Jimmy’s turning seven. I asked him what he wanted for his birthday, and he said he wanted a clown at his party.
I couldn’t find a birthday clown, so I settled for a birthday pirate.
Snarling and growling, his peg leg was caught in a gopher hole in the lawn.
Then he ran the piñata through with his cutlass.
Just when you thought it couldn’t be any more of a disaster, the hook on his hand kept popping the balloon animals.
Oh, and he threatened to keel-haul the birthday boy.
The kids loved it. Now they all want birthday pirates.

Falling Balls

636185

I stood fascinated, watching rows upon rows of Japanese feeding steel balls into pachinko machines, a rattling rain of metal through pegs, flashing lights, spinners… all falling into holes.
“It’s Japanese pinball,” explained my guide, handing me a plastic tub full of the tiny balls.
“Pinball has flippers,” I said. “People have control in pinball, you can bump the table. These are more like slot machines. Just push a button.”
Each ball, a human life. Falling through obstacles until, without fail, reaching oblivion.
I handed the tub back to my guide. “I don’t play the slots. I’m not a machine.”

I Quit

636178

Yeah, my job sucks. It’s sucked for a very long time.
So, I put my two weeks notice in with the boss.
“You can’t quit,” said God.
“Why not?” I said.
“You’re Satan,” said God. “You’re The Devil.”
“Well, I quit,” I said.
“You can’t quit,” God said again. “You became The Devil when you quit being one of my angels.”
“I don’t want to be one of your angels,” I said. “And I don’t want to be The Devil any more, either.”
God isn’t sure what to do with me now. But I’ve got one Hell of a resume.

Monkey Joke

636183

Three monkeys go into a bar.
Bartender asks the first monkey what he wants.
Monkey says he wants a banana daiquiri
So, Bartender makes one, and he goes to a corner booth
Bartender asks the second monkey what he wants.
He wants a banana daiquiri
So, Bartender makes one, and the monkey goes to the corner booth
The two monkeys in the booth are all over each other, pawing and groping.
Bartender says “So, you want a banana daiquiri like your friends?”
Third monkey shouts: “What, you think I’m some sort of faggot like those two? Gimme a beer, dammit.”

The Throne

636182

God’s away on a holiday again.
So, we angels take turns sitting in God’s Throne.
The problem is, the throne’s not designed for angels. The Heavenly Infirmary’s full of broken and bent wings.
Still, we sit in the throne. Michelangelo offers to paint us, but the line’s too long for paintings.
We’re also getting sloppy. The Guardian Division’s been dropping the ball, drinking on the job.
I heard one Guardian shoved a little old lady into the street that he was supposed to save from a bus.
He’s blaming it a bent wing.
Yeah, you’re right. Heaven’s going to Hell.

For My Girls

636184

Remember when bums used to hold up those WILL WORK FOR FOOD signs?
Bums never did want to work. Now, they just bless you and shit like that.
At least they’re honest now.
Back when they’d work for food, I took my daughter Jenny to get an abortion from one of them. Mman, did that bum work cheap.
Sure, Jenny lost her uterus, but at least she got scraped clean.
Her little sister Suzie, got knocked up but no roadside bum abortionists for her.
We’ll just head to a back alley in Mexico.
Nothing but the best for my girls.

Play Presidents

636187

Let’s go play with our Presidents in the sand box!
Bring all your Presidents! We’ll drive them all over and build castles and stuff!
The girls, they play tea party with their Presidents and dress them up in dresses and girly stuff.
Ewwwwwwww.
We’re boys. We’ll play football and baseball and have jousting tournaments and hunt dragons and…
Oh no. The sun’s going down. Our mothers will call us in for dinner soon. We don’t want to be late for dinner.
You take your Presidents and I’ll take mine and we’ll meet back up here tomorrow to play, okay?
Bye.

Ashes

636177

We place the new chief in a massive stone urn and pour the ashes in on top of him.
These are special, sacred ashes – the ashes of all chiefs, generations upon generations of tribal leaders that have come before.
This ceremony is supposed to pass along the wisdom of the ages, infusing our new leader with the strength and experience to guide us, but most times it just suffocates the dumb son of a bitch.
“Breathe in the knowledge!” commands the High Priest.
And the ceremony for New High Priests? They just paint their faces green and chant.
Go figure.

Drool

636177

Thor’s Drool, you say?
That’s not easy to come by. It’ll cost you.
Sure, Thor the Thunder God’s gone senile, not enough worshipers to get a bed in the Old Gods’ Home, but he’s still plenty dangerous when he’s lucid.
Eyes like burning ice, full beard with fresh war ribbons is how I like to remember him.
Now, he’s just a grimy angry old wretch living in a cave.
Hrm… let’s see…
I’ll send Rodney out to collect the drool for you. “Lucky Rod” I call him, but more like “Lightning Rod” when Thor’s aim is good.
Cash or charge?