Weight Loss

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Yeah, I’ve lost weight.
My doctor says I’ve lost too much, but what does he know?
Five weeks ago, I was in the Kroger when the lights flickered… just for a second.
And in that second, all the meat came back to life.
All the animals, screaming out loud. Chickens, cows, pigs, and…
I swear I thought it was people in the store screaming. But…
I was alone.
Humans were in the food?
So, yeah, I don’t eat much now.
I just drink water… and lots of whiskey.
My doctor says I drink too much, but what does he know?

Treasure

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Some say buried among the stones and markers lies mankind’s greatest treasure.
Not gold, not silver, not precious stones.
It’s something we all seek, sometimes even beg for.
We all have it. It’s within us all, so hard to give, and harder to accept.
And hardest of all, even though it is within us, we find it hardest to give to ourselves.
Time and time again, they come here for it.
Rarely do they find it. It can’t be taken.
It may be too late to beg the dead for forgiveness, but it is never too late to forgive yourself.

Weekly Challenge #81 – Six Way Tie

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Welcome to the eighty-first Weekly Challenge, 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 selected by Mike
It’s pumpkin, ghost, squirrels, blue smoke, the Gates of Hell, lime, time, rhyme, and orgasms
Whew.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

What were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #81?
Guy David of Guy David
Tom from Footnote Podcast
Justin from Justin’s Thoughts
Terrence from Never Was
Daphne from Going Broke
Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):


GUY DAVID

I was standing at the gates of hell. I was a ghost. There was no doubt about it.
They say that hell is what you make it. For me it was a couple of squirrels, rousting some pumpkins with lime. It was an orgy of naked bodies, endlessly entering each other, in and out, in and out, but without being able to reach orgasms. It was devoid of sensation, maliciously suspended in time and space. We could go about it until blue smoke came out of our asses, but nothing would happen. It just wouldn’t rhyme. A six way tie.

TOM

When Pumpkins dream it’s a fiery sight. Flaming Limes held in check by a ghostly light.
Citrus and Squash hurling with all their might
Against the Gates of Hell lintels red posts white
The dances of Pumpkins and capers of Limes take flight
In dream time and ghost time in the blue smoke of night
With reason and rhyme we mark their gathering blight
For it is pies we will be baking and ghostlings they will bite
Its pumpkin time before the ghostly gates of key lime hell
So ends this squirrelly rhyme
So begins a midnight of sugary orgasmic delight

JUSTIN

As Joe walked through the gates of hell, he watched a lime-colored pumpkin release a puff of blue smoke.
“What’s that for?” he asked the ghostly squirrel guarding the gate.
“Means it’s time for Satan to get his rocks off,” said the squirrel. “If you see it, you have to report to Satan’s castle and give him an orgasm.”
“Oh, f***,” said Joe. “Can I get around it?”
“There’s a rumor that if you can tell him a really good rhyme he’ll let you off,” replied the squirrel.
“A sublime rhyme?” asked Joe.
“Try that one,” said the squirrel.

TERRENCE

Raoul stood at the Gates of Hell waiting for the kids. A pumpkin sat to his right the candle flickering in the wind. Raoul was always the one that got stuck handing out the candy. A Podcaster dressed as a nun approached. The Podcaster spoke and Raoul dropped in the lime; and under his breath he said “give it time.”
The Podcaster dropped to the ground, started to scream and moan. This continued for a moment and then there was a puff of blue smoke and the Podcaster smiled. A squirrel appeared from under his habit and whipped its face.

DAPHNE

Every year one house had the best decorations on Halloween. Most houses had simple pumpkins carved with Faces, Witches, Bats and the occasionally squirrels eating nuts. But this house had more. As you go up the walk up to it, there was a fork in the path. To the left you saw blue smoke, ghosts and flashing lime green light, you heard screams of horror, that sounded more like orgasms (or so I’ve been told) and there was a sign with that old rhyme “If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime” and a gate with flames made out of fabric around it and on it said “The Gates of Hell” and there were 2 mean dogs barking at you. On the right side was Father O’Malley standing at a gate that said “The Gate to Heaven” handing out full size candy bars and Bibles. We might not get the message at church but we got it on Halloween. Heaven has chocolate.

LAIEANNA

Six way tie, it was. They encircled their tormentor, shooting him
till he fell dead. Inevitably, they all went down in the crossfire.
The whole squirrelly gang ended up stuck behind the gates of hell.
They squabbled about who really did the bastard in. There was Rhyming
Ellison and On Time Tom with Mysterious Blue Smoke Guy and Martini
with a Lime Twist Caleb. Even Pumpkin Rolling Houston and Oh The
Orgasms Laieanna were in on the fight. There was nothing better to do
while they waited for Ghostly Laurence to take his eternal revenge
with assigning another torturous challenge.

CALEB

The squirrel’s ghost was biding it’s time smoking a cuban cigar in the old hallowed out pumpkin while watching the teenagers boinking at lookout point. Suddenly a leg kicked out as the kids reached their orgasms they sent the squirrel’s ghost tumbling in a pumpkiny blaze down the hill.Then in a puff of blue smoke the ghost of the squirrel found himself at the gates of hell where a podcaster, Burroughs and St. Peter were drinking Lime Rickeys trying to think of words that rhyme with ‘merkin’. The ghost of the squirrel suddenly realized… he was in the wrong story.

PLANET Z has chosen to pass this week, and a Wacky Adventure of Abraham Lincoln will be recorded to fulfill the “Story a day until the day I die” pledge.

The Disease

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Sometimes they say they’re with a church, other times they’re a representative from a support group.
They say they know how you feel. They lost someone to cancer, just like you’re losing someone to it.
Things move fast, you’re in too deep, and the next thing you know, you’re sitting in a diner, staring at the photographs. Or a movie clip on an iPod.
Pay up, or everyone sees them.
It’s a cruel setup, a vicious honeypot scam.
“If she sees these,” you say, “it’ll kill her.”
They don’t care. They just want the money.
And insurance doesn’t cover it.

Social Networking

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In the past year, I’ve signed up for all sorts of social networking sites.
I started with Myspace, then moved to Facebook, and over to Twitter and Jaiku and Utterz and Tumbler and so on and so forth.
Whenever I update one site, I feel obligated to update all the rest.
It’s not always automatic, so copy paste copy paste for hours a day.
What I don’t understand is with all this social networking, sitting in front of my computer every waking hour networking with other people, when do I have the time to go out and actually be social?

Joe Christ

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It was a great costume idea.
Joe would dress up like Jesus and we’d strap him to a cross on our porch. He’d hand out candy and blessings to all the kids that were brave enough to ask him.
When the big day came, we were a little drunk, so instead of strapping him to the cross at the waist, we went ahead and nailed him to it.
It took us a while to realize that Joe couldn’t hand out candy in that condition.
So, we broke his legs, speared him in the gut, and shoved him behind a rock.

The Same Day

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According to life expectancies, when I was born and my wife was born, we should die at around the same time.
Sure, we have our bad and good habits that add and knock a few years off that number, but pretty much they all balance out.
So, I’m sure it was no surprise to St. Peter when we both showed up at The Pearly Gates side by side.
“I guess you two planned this all along, right?” said St. Peter.
“Hell no,” my wife says, grumbling.
“I didn’t really plan on turning the wrong way down that street,” I said.

Ghost UFOs

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Some people believe in ghosts.
Other people believe in UFOs.
I believe in ghosts in UFOs.
Think of it… ghosts are the spirits of the dead who still have something left to accomplish in life that keeps them around, right?
So, there’s bound to be some ghosts who are obsessed with exploring the universe in search of life on other planets.
That means – ghosts in UFOs.
Of course, they could be the ghosts of ghost hunters, people who look for ghosts as proof of life after death.
That means they’re searching for signs of death on other planets, I guess.

Pumpkin Carving

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Okay, a true story:
I couldn’t decide how to carve my Halloween pumpkin, so I just left the knife stuck in the side of the pumpkin and put it up on the shelf.
It sat there for a day, two days… but I just couldn’t come up with any ideas on how to carve it.
I got really frustrated at that, hit my fist on the table, and it jostled the pumpkin so it rolled off the shelf and dropped to the floor.
As it fell past me, the knife slashed against my arm.
That’s right. The pumpkin carved me.

Weekly Challenge #80 – Garage Sale

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Welcome to the eightieth Weekly Challenge, 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 selected by Chris Doelle.
It’s Garage Sales
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Who had the best stories of Weekly Challenge #80?
Michael from The Next Big Writer
Tom from Footnote Podcast
Laieanna of HodgePodge Point
Guy David from Guy David dot com
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):


MICHAEL

Shamus finally struck it rich. Allergic to any form of work, his past schemes and cons netted him but paltry earnings. Now, not only was he raking in money, he was contributing to a better world environment by recycling.
The magic word was “Garage sale.” It attracted bargain hunters with ready cash.
His success was that you bid on the total contents of his overstuffed garage. Old lamps, appliances, boxes and bags. Winner takes all.
Today, $1240, walked away with the lot.
Not as good as last week’s haul, but not bad for one little trip to the local dump.

TOM

The podcaster was getting pretty bored with this Dante crap.
So he pushed the bark away from the shore.
“75 cent for the next 5 minutes” intoned the voice.
The podcaster looked down to see a Halliburton change box.
“Frak this”
just as he was about to give the box a good kick
two near celestial being where deposited into the bark.
“Time to get out of Dodge” spit Burroughs
“Damn straight” say St Peter.
“Where we going” asked The Podcaster.
“In search of Garage Sales” chanted the boatmen.
“What?” cried Laurence.
“Hell it’s just the topic this week kid”

LAIEANNA

“New beginnings start with the shedding of our past. Garage Sale 10-4”
stated Libby’s sign. Two sisters of the order were helping,
identifiable by bald heads and potato sack clothes. New pupils of the
Enlightenment and Ascension Order, or as her ex-husband would say, the
short a few vowels cult, had to rid themselves of everything. For the
purpose they gave her, she gladly let go of hair and clothes. And now
she felt no loss for her belongings until the sale of a picture frame
with her children smiling inside reminded her of what she was truly
giving up.

GUY DAVID

Come on over, they are having a garage sale down here, every soul for a shekel. They have big souls and small souls, blue souls and red souls, fluffy souls and thorny souls.
I want a lollipop soul on a stick, one with extra sugar. Those are priceless and sexy.
You should check the couch potato souls. They are fat and comfy, and they wont protest either, so transfixed by images from the babble box that they hardly notice reality anymore.
There is a tortured soul. Look at it. It’s useless. Nothing to do with it now. What a waste.

PLANET Z

Excalibur, the Holy Grail, the Ark of The Covenant, – you name it, I’ve picked it up from some family trying to clear out an attic of a house they want to sell.
You see, people just sell their junk and baby stuff at Garage Sales.
Estate Sales, on the other hand, the person who valued the stuff is dead, knew it’s true nature, so it’s a relative trying to get rid of it for some quick cash.
They never know the value of what they’ve got. If they did, they’d be selling it at an auction house or keeping it.