Category: My stories

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln 60

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The wedding day with Mary Todd came and went, but Abe was nowhere to be found.
He had gone insane, writing to his friend John Stuart that he was the most miserable man alive.
John found Lincoln sitting in a garbage heap, moaning.
“What’s wrong, Brother Abraham?” asked Stuart.
“She snores,” said Abe.
“Wear earplugs,” said Stuart.
“She’s crazy,” said Abe. “At night, she waves a knife at me.”
“That’s you, stupid,” said Stuart. “You sleepwalk while holding a knife. Then you wake up in front of mirrors.”
Abe and Mary Todd were married.
Stuart gave them a knife set.

Soaking Solo

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Humanity heads to Mars tomorrow.
Or, more specifically, me.
Someone came up with the brilliant idea that it makes more sense to send one man out to Mars than an entire crew.
I’ll be alone for the year it takes to get there, land, take off, and come back.
I was told to “load up” on things I’d miss during that time in low-gravity isolation.
So, I’ve hired one hooker after another and spent as much time I possibly can with them in a Jacuzzi.
I’ll probably miss the Jacuzzi more. There’s just no substitute for a long, hot soak.

Esther’s Ghosts

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Esther had her grandson go up into the attic and bring down the box from the corner.
“It’s for the museum,” she said, rubbing her wrist where the numbers were.
Later that week, the museum thanked her for her contributions, but insisted that she sit for an interview.
“We’d like to add your memories to the collection,” they said.
“Let those memories die with me, please,” said Esther.
“Without ghosts to haunt us, it could happen again,” said the museum. “How easily we forget.”
Esther nodded, hoping that there would never again be the need to keep awful memories around.

Disarming

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Maria Lopez was found dead in the breakdown lane, sitting in her SUV with her arm ripped out of its socket.
The first of many victims. Many more.
Pretty soon, you couldn’t drive the highways without passing one.
Then, a one-armed soccer coach crashed into an Emergency Room, covered with blood.
“I was talking on my cell phone, and he attacked me,” he said before dying.
The Cell Phone Vigilante was caught stalking an off-duty cop.
He’d lost his daughter to a careless driver talking on a cell phone. So, for revenge, he wandered the city and took their arms.

Mother of monsters

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Cynthia, quite literally, gave birth to the Teratagenic Art Movement.
She’d get pregnant and then take a whole series of birth defects-causing chemicals.
Once the “artwork” was ready, she’d have a late-term abortion and have the monstrosity preserved in a jar.
She was quite a prolific artist, splashing life and death on her revolting canvases.
When menopause finally hit, she realized that she had birthed no heir to pass her craft to.
Nor would any right-minded agency allow her to adopt.
Students came and students went, but the chemicals eventually killed Cynthia.
And the Art Movement with her, thank God.

Fishes and Loaves

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You’d think being Jesus Christ’s roommate would be cool, right?
Wrong, man. The guy’s seriously fucked up.
First off, the shit he does with his pet goldfish. He brings his friends over, multiples the thing, and eats all of the fishes alive except one.
Sticks that last one back in the fishbowl for the next time.
Then there’s the toaster. Sticks two slices of bread in the thing, thousands of slices pop out.
Crumbles it all up to feed the birds in the park.
I’d throw him out, but he keeps promising to cure my leprosy.
He never does, though.

The Stopped-Up Watch

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From the look on his face, Edwin hasn’t taken a dump for over a week.
From the numbers on his wristwatch, you’d be right.
You see, he keeps a running timer on his wristwatch to count the time since his last dump, and right now it’s saying a week.
When he takes a dump, he resets it.
But not recently. Since he hasn’t taken a dump.
Wait – he’s running off to the bathroom.
You’ll probably be able to tell by Edwin’s face if he’s taken a dump.
As long as it’s been, he may not remember to reset the watch.

The Lever

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For Archimedes’ birthday, we all chipped in and got him a lever.
“Is it long enough to move the world?” we asked him.
“It’s looks long enough,” he said, holding it in his hands. “Let’s find out.”
Archimedes put it down, spat into his hands, and rubbed them together. Then, he picked the lever back up and began to dig it into the ground with all of his might.
“Can you feel the world moving?” asked Archimedes.
Just then, an earthquake struck Athens. Many were killed.
For the safety of all, the lever was melted down into various homoerotic trinkets.

The Locker

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The custodian at the gym heard the too-familiar banging and yelling from the locker room.
“Not again,” he groaned.
He went to his tool chest, pulled out the bolt cutters, and headed to Davey Jones’ Locker.
Davey Jones was pounding on the door, calling the combination lock a backstabbin’ scurvy dog.
“Please stop that, Mr. Jones,” said the custodian. “I’m just going to have to bend all that metal back.”
The custodian snipped off the padlock and opened the locker. “Have you ever thought about just using a lock with a key?” he said.
At least he tipped in gold.

Dancing Pinhead

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Gabriel landed at Heaven’s gates and screamed with agony, tucking into a ball and clutching his shredded, bloody sandals.
“So, did you find out how many of you can dance on the head of a pin?” asked Jesus.
“The head of a pin?” groaned Gabriel. “Wait… that’s the round flat part of it, right? And not the sharp pointy end?”
“You’re going to need new sandals, aren’t you?” Jesus sighed.
Gabriel crawled to the Quartermaster.
Jesus pulled out God’s Big Ledger Of Mysteries, wrote “It takes two to tango” in it by Angels Dancing On Pinhead, and snapped it shut.