Bacon

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The Law of Bacon is an axiom of our existence.
Creation’s purpose is two-fold: to evolve a form of life to generate a source of bacon and a form of life to consume bacon.
This is the Meaning Of Life. One without the other shatters the fabric of reality.
The wine and wafers are gone, replaced with strips of bacon.
The pews are filled with the faithful, led by the aroma and sound of sizzling in the skillet.
Today, we burn a heretic at the stake, a nonbeliever in our midst, the grease of turkey bacon still on her lips.

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln #89

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Abraham Lincoln didn’t like to lose.
“Rather than yield,” he said. “I would sooner go out into my backyard and hang myself.”
All it took was a bad hand of cards or an argument over dinner, and he’d be out in the backyard, tossing a rope over a branch in order to hang himself.
At first, Mary Todd hid all the ropes, so Abe tried using bed sheets and towels.
That’s when Mary Todd ordered all of the trees cut down.
Abe roamed the back yard, looking for something to hang himself from, but it was just a flat lawn.

Weekly Challenge #131 – Asylum

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty-One where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was Asylum.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #131?
Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
Ashley
Kolek
Evamoon from http://evamoon.net
Almo
Mike
Philip
Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
Guy from http://guydavid.com/
Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
Steven from http://ideatrash.blogspot.com/
Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):


Justin

*
What are you in for?
I didn’t do it, I didn’t make the flames. They say I did! Criminally insane? I am harmless as a baby kitten, yes, a baby kitten! Mew mew!
*
Well, I know for a fact you’re not a baby kitten.
Mew?
*
No, you are not.
Why are you here?
*
Same reason as you, buddy.
You mean you didn’t do anything? Are you a kitty too?
*
Oh no, I’m innocent, but you aren’t, and it is your fault I’m here!
Mew? My fault?
*
Because I’m stuck in your silly head! I didn’t think you’d actually do it!

Ashley

So…I’m going to visit the asylum again.
At least they asked nicely this time, otherwise I may have decided to vacation somewhere else this year. Besides, I really like the asylum. After all, this is where the well-adjusted people are. Of course all those sheep and ants scurrying to and fro out in the so called real world think that they are balanced, but myself and a few select others know differently. Hopefully the service and hospitality will be as good as my earlier visits.
It will be nice to intermingle again with people who are fully sane…just like me.

Kolek

Mmmmmm. I’m back. I’m livin the good life. -8
Cruising with my boyz. Sportin a fresh brown Armani with matching Gucchi shades. Getting into fights. People turnin their heads. Later each night, getting head. -33
Pushin on 24 sumitomos, my SUV thumps the ground with 15 subs. Alternating ‘tween Yokes and Zanzibar, O-lounge and all those other clubs. -56
Well… not exactly. The rolex wasn’t real, the armani was “borrowed,” and my SUV is 12 years old. Still better than two years ago. Still Fly. My homeys got my back; my boss cashin the bank. -92
Yah I’m called “Kolek.” And I’m back bitches.

Eva Moon

“Joe, I swear it was the strangest thing. I was in the middle of a lecture and suddenly a wild-eyed woman in a straightjacket materialized out of thin air.”
“Quite a few ghosts haunt this university.”
“Ghosts?”
“It’s true . This place used to be a state mental hospital. Didn’t you know? The Eagles wrote ‘Hotel California’ about it.”
“Huh. I didn’t know that.”
“So many of the inmates who died here hang around that the university even has an admissions policy for them.”
“Admissions policies for ghosts?”
“Yeah: you can audit any class you like but you can never leave.”

Almo

They came on a moonless night, by luck not design. The waves lapped gently against the shore but the boaters could hear it from a distance.
It whispered asylum.
The roar of a Coast Guard engine startled them. They hunkered down as the searchlight swept over their craft. They were tempted to swim. Wet foot, you go home. Dry foot, you can stay.
They trusted luck.
In the morning, immigration agents found a boat on the beach. A dozen Styrofoam coolers lashed together with twine. An agent kicked at the boat and piece broke off. “They earned it,” he said.

Mike

The newscast had reported the utter devastation of the towns of Asylum in California and Pennsylvania as a macabre coincidence. He’d spotted the telltale signs, though, and had been horrified, knowing he was to blame.
He had left a message, denouncing the regime and declaring his intention to cross over and seek asylum. Apparently, his intention had been mistaken for a literal destination, and the Enforcement Fleet had been dispatched through the portal with orders to destroy him and his hiding place. Overcome with guilt, he knew he must act; unfortunately, his suicide wasn’t in time to save Sanctuary, Texas.

Philip

Ulnar Styloid, clan chief of the Olecranon Process, glanced up from his desk. A harried guard informed him, “The distal Interphalangeal Epyphases have entered our system. Their vessels are forming up in the Glenoid Fossa.”
“Attack on the the Dorsal Interosii will be next.” Ulnar concluded, “Naturally, they will come to us for asylum.” He pondered the back of his hand, then cracked his knuckles. He spoke to the guard, “Tell the Interosii they may land their vessels on Tibial Plateau and inhabit the length of the Vastus Lateralis.”
Ulnar Styloid smiled grimly; his nemesis, Vas Deferens, would arrive soon.

Jeffrey

Some wild things happen at the asylum for the criminally insane. But what I like is the asylum for the criminally sane, those people are crazy. Not crazy insane, but crazy as in they are in complete control of all their faculties, but still totally out there. There is nothing like that place. I go and just listen to the people. In the insane asylum you get the screams and crying, at the sane asylum all you hear is whispering and the gentle scratch of chalk on a blackboard as they figure out the meaning of the universe.

Guy

Dave the hacker was sure now that Bob belonged in an asylum. When he came with this crazy idea that The Chirapa where real aliens, he just shrugged and started working on tracking them. Harriet was his best friend and the least he could do was to help that crazy husband of hers. He was an avid listener of The Chirapa podcast since Harriet turned him into that, but he knew it was fiction. He was surprised when he actually found something, so he pinpointed it for Bob on his Google Map. Bob smiled and puled out an army knife.

Anima

It was late, but Isabela had made it to the church.
In a panic, she pounded on the door.
Soccoro, padre, please help, the federales are after me…
How could he not let her in?
You will have to stay here in the church…
Please, sleep quickly; do not open your eyes until I come for you in the morning.
Brother Theodore was bound by church law to provide asylum, but he was not sure that a night here was better than facing the federales
Slowly he walked down the center aisle, preparing to snuff the candles for the night./blockquote>
Steven

I slam against the gate of the American embassy. The Marines watch,
ordered to keep the gate closed. I plead, beg, but they raise their
M16s at me… and at the policemen chasing me. One pursuer, groaning,
loses a rotting finger.
I recognize the female Marine. I had begged her for safety for my
merely political crimes, back when the police just wanted to torture
my flesh.
She slides a revolver with a single bullet through the bars. A tear
slips down her dusty, expressionless face. The hungry police shamble
down the street. I salute her and raise the pistol.

Tom

The gates at Bellevue lay their shadow across room 412. Within the man who would be president sat very still strapped to the wall. The winter of 2020 was the coldest on record when the patient in 412 stopped responding to his name. From then on he would only reacted when someone said “Hey Joe.” “That’s Joe the Plumber to you.” The asylum was the home to a number of other great American politicians like John Mc Cain, Dan Quail and someone named Rudy. Who would have thought a Libertarian named Wurzelbacher could have taken out B. O. in 2012.

Planet Z

Little Bobby is crazy.
He gathered up bricks from a construction site and made a prison for his sister’s dollies.
No. Not a prison. These dollies weren’t just criminals.
They were criminally insane.
An insane asylum.
Mr. Potatohead had identity issues. GI Joe’s post-traumatic stress disorder left him with incurable rage.
Stretch Armstrong? Far, far too accommodating to survive in society. A pushover.
That left Barbie to diagnose. What was it she did to get locked up in here.
Like clockwork, Ken visited every week. Through the glass, Barbie would scream I WILL CUT YOUR TONGUE OUT!
Poor girl.

Bring Him Back

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The poster was supposed to say Dead Or Alive, but it ended up saying Dead And Alive.
Before we could fix the mistake, the poster was up in every Post Office.
Replacements were sent out the next week, but by then, we’d gotten our man.
He’s in the holding cell, Dead And Alive.
No, I haven’t seen him. All I know is, the guy who brought him in said he was, and he wanted to collect on the full reward.
I don’t know what Dead And Alive means. Do you?
Maybe we should just leave him for the next shift?

Vet

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Bo spent two years in Sadr City.
Some bearded fuck was running the place.
The government gave this fuck guns and money to keep the peace, but this asshole used them for all sorts of other shit.
Women suicide bombers. Those were the worst.
Stick a bunch of crazy shit in their heads, put a bomb under their robes, and tell them to shriek like hell if anyone tried to search them.
All it takes is one. Just one.
Bo came back in a bag last week.
The bearded fuck is still there, making women crazy and giving them bombs.

Primordial

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The primordial soup is full of amino acids.
Add a little electrical energy in the form of lightning to get the building blocks of life.
Perhaps with the primordial soup you can get a primordial sandwich. Nothing complex… Just some lettuce and tomato.
A sprinkle of dill? Perfect.
How about a primordial salad to go with that? That, my friend, is a good lunch. You won’t need a big primordial dinner after a primordial lunch like that.
Just be sure to leave a good primordial tip for this primordial lunch or the primordial waitress will get medieval on your ass.

Servant

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We need more sticks for wands.
Kiss your fingertips, touch the gate, and walk into the cemetery.
Without the kiss, the cemetery’s residents will be insulted.
With the kiss, you will have a safe journey to the Tree Of Souls.
Gather the loose branches. Do not take from the tree itself – that is certain destruction.
These powerful twigs will make excellent wands for necromancy, magic of the dead.
My best ones come from here in fact. Powerful enough to raise the dead and make them obedient servants.
Such as yourself.
Now, be a good zombie, and get me those twigs.

Apple Bobbing

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I love Halloween. It’s the best time of the year.
The candy. The costumes. The cool breeze in the air.
Most of all, I love apple bobbing.
Fill a washtub with water, toss in a few apples, put your hands behind your back, and then try to catch an apple with your mouth.
It’s so fun!
Ever tried other fruits?
Bananas are way too easy.
Watermelons are just too big.
No, it’s best to stick to apples.
I know one guy who likes to bob for lobsters, but that’s taking “choose your lobster from the tank” a little too far.

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln #88

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Every man is said to have his peculiar ambition.
No visitor to the White House left without being asked of their ambition by Abraham Lincoln.
He thought he’d heard them all, until one child said he wanted to be an astronaut.
“What’s that?” asked Abe.
“I want to explore space!” said the child.
“That’s very peculiar,” said Abe. “How will you get there?”
“With a ladder,” said the child.
Abe put the child to work lighting gas lamps and changing candles.
“How’s space today?” he’d ask and laugh.
The child cried and scraped a candle nub out of the chandelier.

Weekly Challenge #130 – And then you put it in the blender…

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was And then you put it in the blender….
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #130?
Fricker Fracker from http://www.thefrickerfrequency.com
Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
Mike
Wilma
Nika from http://www.nikadreamscape.wordpress.com
Keeme from http://darpodcast.wordpress.com
Guy from http://guydavid.com
Philip
Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
Steve from http://ideatrash.blogspot.com
Almo
Brad from http://inventors.about.com/library/inventors/blblender.htm
Jeff from http://GreatHites.blogspot.com
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):


Fricker

Back in 1868, Jose and myself were about to rob the 801 coming out of
Barstow. It was hot and dry day and we were getting mighty thirsty. The 801
was late as usual and all we had to drink was tequila, We were getting drunk
on all that harsh tequila until Jose informed us that he was from the future
and pulled out this fancy thing called a blender and he had an automatic ice
machine.
He sliced up some limes and put it all in this futuristic contraption and
then he gives us this juice. He called it.. the Margarita!
I’m glad that Jose Cuervo was a friend of mine

Anima

Is that a Terran artifact?
Yes, an ancient torture book I think…
This Fannie Farmer was a cruel Enforcer…
No mercy for dissidents… listen…
Beat the whites until frothy…
Quarter the chicken, cutting along the backbone…
Grill over low flame, until skin is crisp…
Or this…
Take the fruits, put them in the blender, pulse until smooth…
Can you imagine the mess?
If that’s the treatment for proclivities, I wonder what Farmer did to anarchists?
Life is more civilized now…
If there is weakness in the gene pool, it’s eliminated before emergence from the test tube.
Homogeny equals peace, brother.

Mike

No standard diet products had worked, and all were expensive. Then he’d caught the end of that infomercial promising amazing results using simple veggies and water; before the theme music had ended, he’d placed his order. When the instructions and blender arrived, he couldn’t wait to try it.
Now, he looked at the booklet in disgust. He had spent thirty minutes cubing ten carrots and cucumbers. He read the last sentence again: “Then you put it in the blender. This recipe depends on fresh veggies; ensure you have enough for each batch.”
The blender made quick work of the booklet.

Wilma

Everybody must have at least two doses of nonsense with one serving of silly each day. To get your daily dose slowly skip into the kitchen, while tempting a thought tornado to twist. Let visions of chickens in pink, polka dot underwear yelling, “I’m free!” dance across your mind’s screen. For pizzaz toss in a chartreuse platypus singing “Higgely, Wiggely Aye. Where’s my opera pie?” And let these pictures, songs and scents whizz together into a marvelous mind mousse. Then tilt your head and let the mousse slide out of your ear and into the blender. Add ice and puree.

Nika

Eyes closed. She was dreaming.
She was sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter. Perched there with the backs of her heels drumming gently against the cupboard doors. They were talking.
He dumped a handful of raspberries into the blender and switched it on high, before casting a crooked grin her way. Her nose crinkled in distaste as she watched the mixture churning together. He was saying something to her. But the words slipped away like smoke before she could quite hear. Nightfall was once again approaching, pulling her from the deep sleep.
Her eyes opened. She was alone.

Keeme

Edie, a forgiving woman, had been married to “Chef” for years. She caught him cheating again and made a deal, allowing “desserts”.
[In walks a redhead; Chef’s favorite]
“Hi, I’m Mary”
[A brief tour, then the kitchen].
Edie “you’ll be making lobster with crab-dip stuffing”.
[Hands Mary Chef’s recipe]
“When it’s done you can…”
[Mary, confused, interrupts]
“I’m here for a patient”
“I know, follow me”.
[Horrified, Mary stares]
“He must be fed and cared for by a nurse. Take his meal, then you put it in the blender”
A faceless man, alone, unable to taste his favorite dishes anymore.

Guy

Chaketo Chirapa was stuck at the airport. His plane was cancelled,
and there wasn’t another one until tomorrow. He avoided The Humans
and stayed hidden under his cloaking device, catching fragments of
Human speech.
– Had to send it beck…
– Is she really going out with that guy? Is she crazy?…
– Then you put it in the blender…
– I don’t think you should be telling her that…
– Then, I turned her into a frog…
As he listened more and more, he was less and less sure of his way.
Should he really try to gain the trust of those strange Humans?

Philip

When he entered the dimly lit store the clerk was a statue; his ancient skin, pale grey as cement; chin on chest in apparent slumber.
The clerk hadn’t moved when the young man passed him and ambled down the aisle to the frozen food.
A voice started him from his stasis, ” …then you put it in the blender…”, and it trailed off down the aisle to his right.
He turned to the direction of the receding voice and in his minds’ eye, followed it to the door, where it left him behind.
“Take me!” he screamed, but without sound.

Tom

Laura was concerned about her kitten Ralph. He had been left outside in the rain and he was drenched to the bone. Carefully she wrap him in a towel and popped him into the micro wave. After a few minutes Laura thought Ralph’s fur looked a bit matting so she set the hair dry on high and ran it over the cat for a bit. Not totally pleased with the outcome a tiny voice within said “Then you put it in the blender…” Thank God for Mom who finally rescued Ralph from baby Laura and thank God for Fisher – Price Appliances.

Justin

Should I try selling the blender, or the lighters? No ashtrays, blender.
Yes?
Hello ma’am! Can I interest you in a state of the art blender?
Come in! Show me in the kitchen.
She opened the kitchen door and I set up my presentation on the island. The old woman seemed nice. I don’t take advantage, mind you.
So, this blender can cut through… blend this newt, bat wings, and octopus eye? Wait a minute!
I tossed the lighters in the blender, hit On, slammed the door behind me, and dove out the front door.
I hate selling in Salem.

Steven

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The guests praise the drinks, my
bartending skills. It is part of why Vinnie’s parties are popular.
I used to be the bad child, “not gonna amount to nothing”; a stark
contrast to my sister’s channeled angel… until Vinnie took me in. A
foot soldier, then lieutenant, now barkeep and “cleaner”. I’d
straightened up even as gambling devoured my sister’s bank account,
house, marriage. Her debts got out of hand. Her assets
were…liquidated.
“Howdja get your Bloody Marys so good?” a mobster calls at me.
“Family secret,” I say, heading towards the kitchen.

Almo

The photo showed two people completely in love. You could tell from her eyes and her smile.
Roger put the picture in a stack with the others, next to his cell phone. He had just called her in the middle of the night to hear her voice. It was their first time apart. A man had answered; Roger hung up when he heard the sleepy feminine voice in the background.
He straightened the stack and then put it into the blender. He switched it on, then blindly switched off the phone with the wrong number still backlit on the screen.

Brad Z

“It’s simple.” Fred’s boss had explained, “Put them in the Blender. Check the restraints. The blue button engages the restraints. The yellow button unlocks the braking mechanism. The green button starts the Blender up and finally the red button will stop the the Blender when the time is up. It’s not that hard”
Fred’s boss wasn’t pleased with him at all. This was the second time he had forgotten to engage the restraints. That was very bad for business. Cleanup and body disposal took an hour.
Still, they waited in line. It was more exciting than the Tilt-A-Whirl.

Jeff

Hello
Seti Inbox message:
Hello Seti user 91b235f59a396d54g0c5f27cd5b8d168
We are very amused by your search for us. We are touched by the fact that you care so much, to spend your time looking for us, but we are not lost. We picked up a map at the Texico station, it has been quite useful. But we are not sure what a NEW JERSEY or TURN PIKE are.
We do appreciate all of the things that you have been sending us, especially the Beagle craft, it was a little tough at first but then we put it in the blender. Once softened up it was Yummy

Planet Z

I bought a couch, table, and blender at that church sale.
The couch reeked of cat piss, the table wobbled and the blender’s motor was dead.
I should have tested it before the party.
The couch and table, thrown out. The blender, I kept. Held a goldfish.
Chicks came by my place, I showed them the fish and pushed a button.
Some laughed, some called me evil and left.
Eighty years since I put that fish in the blender. Goldfish aren’t supposed to live that long.
What are you? I ask it.
No answer. It’s just a fish, right?