Angels Blush

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At first, my picture was up in the Post Office. Then, they took it down.
“Racy,” they called it. “Too damn sexy.”
I have done things in the line at the Post Office that could make angels blush and The Devil bite his lip.
They got rid of the stamps you lick because of me. How I’d lick a stamp, postal carriers fainted by the dozens.
Calling my actions sinful and “moral cancer,” the Postmaster General declared war on me, and stamps became stickers that weekend.
Don’t ask me where I stick mine. You couldn’t handle the thought of it.

Peek A Boo

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I have found another portal into a parallel universe.
Unlike the others, it’s to a universe where my daughter is still alive.
At first, I thought to bring my daughter here, but I don’t think I can explain how she survived a fatal car crash three years ago.
I could go there, but I’d have to take my parallel-self’s place. Not an easy thing to do when there’s been three years of experience to learn?
Perhaps I can peek in there and maybe watch her grow up. There’s no harm in that, right?
I won’t change anything. Nothing at all.

The Flying Banjoman

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We found the battered boat adrift off the coast of Nantucket.
Ragged body parts all over the deck, eventually we accounted for all the passengers, minus the pieces the seagulls dragged off.
Right there, jammed in the wheel, was a blood-soaked banjo.
“The uneasy spirit still roams the fog,” muttered the old harbormaster.
He reaches for the banjo and throws it back in the water.
“That’s evidence!” I shouted.
The harbormaster gave me a stare that drilled right into my bones.
“That’s what the last detective tried to tell me,” he said, and he pointed to… a severed lawman’s head.

Weekly Challenge #72 – The New Black

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Welcome to the seventy-two’st 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 Yxes Delacroix, and it was: The New Black.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
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):

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #72?
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
Guy David from Sixteenth
Tom from Footnote
Yxes from PodMafia
Laieanna from HodgePodge Point
JD White
Elisson from blog d’Elisson
Cee Rap Mariner of What Is This Crap?
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


CALEB

The new black hairdos: the height of fashion
The new black cufflinks: onyx reborn as art
The new black tuxedo: rebelliously traditional
The new black patent leather shoes: reflecting dreams as well as light
The new black dress: enhancing beauty by obscuring it
The new black heels: ecstasy for dancing
The new black limo: engineered luxury
The new black chauffeur: trained Haitian bodyguard
The new blacktop driveway: smoother than driving on silk
The new black marble staircase: that brings you perfectly up to
The new Black Tie Martini Club: coming soon to Nowhereville.
This fall the new black is… Black

GUY

– Pirates doing pirouettes are the new black ol’ mighty grasshopper. We waltz around our captured ships to the music of Strauss, skillfully dancing with our swords drawn, cutting up brave man and taking out beautiful women for a spin. Oh – the smell of the sea and the sound of a good crescendo. Who could ask for more. Our brave man give out their best grande battement en cloche and bow. Purely exquisite.
– You know, that black tutu really looks good on you…
– Oh, shut up you… you… parrot before I cut you in half.
– It’s tough being a pirates’ parrot.

TOM

You might think the Prince of Darkness was a bit old fashion all gothic and medievalish. Not true he has always been a renaissance man the embodiment of modernity to the ages he passes through. Of late he still has a thing for Armani and Jaguars. The old blacks he calls them. His current blacks are Kisho pavilions and Lotus Elise 111S roadsters. Baxster the prince’s right hand man is always on the lookout for the new blacks born from the well of souls. Baxster is working out a deal for Dick Cheney heart. Blackest known substance in the universe.

YXES

“Stand by for pressurized cabin clearance!”
The young officer waited by the exit hatch until he heard the Captain
shout “All Clear”.
He opened the outside hatch to a wild flurry of oddly colored dust.
Carefully he stepped onto the ground of this strange new world, and
was instantly enveloped in a huge dark green cloud!
Slowly walking around, he gathered samples and readings of the planet’s surface.
That’s when he noticed his silver space suit was now the same green
color as everything around him.
“Aw, the new black!” he mused. Laughing, he went about exploring this
strangely exotic world.

LAIEANNA

“Oh my Undescript Divine Being! They built an SSOS Spa in our town!”
“What does SSOS stand for?”
“Sludge, Slime, and other Secretions. No more herbal baths. This is the way to go.”
“Spewy! Who would soak in that?”
“You’re totally being a Dwabble, Steph’anie. All Earth Celebs are doing it, fifth clone Britney, second clone Nicole, eighth clone Paris. Even the new Elizabeth Taylor is in.”
“Alright Grassflower! What does it do?”
“Only make your skin look galatrific! Starry stare that person coming out now.”
“She’s all red with purple spots!”
“Of course! Irritated skin is the new look.”

JD WHITE

The New Black descended upon us and filled our soul with darkness.
Breath sucked in The New Black and then expelled it into the mouths of those nearby.
Those originally infected spread the darkness to loved ones and strangers.
Fathers to Mothers.
Mothers to Sons.
Brothers to Sisters.
Sisters to Lovers.
Darkness, the New Black, filled the lungs, transferred to the blood, then to the heart and brain.
The New Black is now contained within us all and has been for ten thousand years.
And the timeless, eternal, endless sadness is that we do not know how black we are.

ELISSON

Gerald O’Hara stood atop a hill overlooking his vast domain, arms akimbo. From here, he could see the white columns of the plantation house, a house that sat at the end of a long, tree-columned drive.
He smiled. This was his home, here in the red clay of Georgia. Tara.
As the sun set, he walked back, his stomach already rumbling in happy anticipation of Mammy’s cooking. Washing quickly, he joined his family in the dining room, where an unfamiliar house-servant was ladling soup from a tureen.
“Who’s this?” Gerald asked.
Scarlett responded, “Why Daddy, this is the New Black.”

CEE

Everybody made fun of Coca Cola for doing that Virtual Thirst campaign, but I think it was to make people forget about their whole New Coke disaster twenty years ago.
The best way to get people to forget about a disaster is to make a bigger one, right?
Remember when Sherwin Williams tried to make The New Black? They were going to reformulate the paint, change the color of black itself, set the standard for a new century kind of thing?
Then they gave it up, released Black Classic, blah blah.
You know, that paint tasted just like New Coke.


OTHER CRAP:
Carnal Knowledge is a book by one of my favorite daily podcasters, Charles Hodgson. I owe this podcast’s continues survival to his inspiration, since I often come up with my stories around the words he reviews and tales he spins about their odd origins.
If Garf isn’t too annoyed with my constantly screwing up the call to the show last week, well, I’ll be trying to drop by his High Tech Texan Show on Saturday to give a report on SL in business, that kind of thing.
There’s some kind of write-a-review podcast contest out there at Podcast Pickle going on.
Write reviews, win prizes. That sort of thing.
There’s also a way to write reviews for this podcast in iTunes and other directories.
Your Mostly Fearless Leader doesn’t command you to do so, but he is somewhat whinily cajoling and imploring you to do so.
Let a tiny slice of the world know how much you like or don’t like or could care less about this not-quite-so-bold endeavor.
Thank you.

Broke

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“Broke my parole by coming here,” said the old felon at the bar.
I served him another beer. Here, man needs a drink, man gets a drink.
Broke every string on my banjo.
Broke every heart in Arkansas.
Broke every finger on my hand.
Broke every law across the land.
Broke every record set before.
Broke every chain across the door.
Broke every mirror in the bar.
Broke every bank, but lost my car.
Broke every story in the news.
Broke every shoestring on my shoes.
Broke every code that hid your data.
Broke every promise, I’ll see you later.

The Planet’s Gotta Go

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Paradise Beta is going to be demolished tomorrow.
And that’s too bad, because Paradise Alpha and Paradise Beta were a cool binary planet arrangement.
Sadly, the Beta folks built what they thought was a new kind of generator, but it ended up messing with their angular momentum.
Their orbit’s changed significantly, someone did a few calculations, and found that in less than a year, they’d collide with Alpha.
Neither Beta nor Alpha liked that, so we’ve moved everyone on over to Alpha.
When Beta blows, it’ll atomize without making the star go nova.
Want to pull the trigger?
Go ahead.

Aziz

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I watched as a kid named Aziz celebrated in the schoolyard, the teacher leading his classmates in praise for Aziz’s brother.
He’d blown himself up, killing twenty people. Four of them were from my unit.
I followed Aziz home. Two men gave him a package, and he put it in his schoolbag.
I stopped him, took the bag away, and looked in the package.
It was a bomb. He was going to deliver it to another of his brothers to go blow himself up.
Instead, Aziz exploded in his house, taking his whole family with him.
Accidents can be caused.

Moment

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“Let me know when you have a moment,” said the boss.
His idea of a moment is not my idea of a moment.
A moment to me is a flash of recognition in the street, or sipping coffee that’s just a little too hot.
His idea of a moment is forty minutes at the end of the day, delaying my commute home until traffic’s at its worst.
It could be worse. I hear that the secret police of many nations tap people on the shoulder and say “Do you have a moment?” all the time.
Those people tend to vanish.

Mouse Trap

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Everybody’s trying to build a better mousetrap.
Me, I’m trying to build a worse mousetrap.
You can waste your time with engineering and materials science and physics and such, but after playing that old kids’ game, I just want to make a mess and a whole lot of noise.
Who cares if it traps a mouse or not, right? Half the fun is getting there.
And mom always said that you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.
Speaking of which, what else do you want with your omelet besides shredded mouse?
Yeah, I thought you’d want cheese.

Weekly Challenge #71 – Pink

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Welcome to the seventy-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 Planet Z, and it was: Pink.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
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):

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #71?
Yxes from PodMafia
Sean from Dismay
Guy David of The Sixteenth
Matthew
Tom from Footnote
Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
JD
Elisson from blog d’Elisson
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
Christopher
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


YXES

Two pills to choose…one white and one red.
The instructions say: “If you’re feeling blue, take one pill only.
Warning: May cause moments of colorific hallucinations.”
“I wonder what that means?” she contemplates.
She picks the white pill. The whole world turns white! Weird!
She takes the red pill. Everything around her turns red! Surreal!
“This can’t be all they do!” she ponders, then smiles impishly.
She takes one of each. Her head spins dizzily!
She slowly opens her eyes, in a state of heightened anticipation.
Astonished, she shouts out gleefully,
“Pink. Everything’s Pink! Absolute Perfection!”

DISMAY

Do you believe in fairies? I do.
I once met a strange salesperson. She said: “If you are lonely and you believe, plant this magical seed.” A stack of pink packages were sitting beside her.
I’m lonely, I thought. So I bought a package, went home, read the instructions and planted the seeds in a pot. I believe.
The next morning I found a tiny winged young woman, who strangely resembled the pop singer Pink, in the pot smiling up at me. She said, “Let’s get this party started.” It was a nice surprise, but I still wonder. Why Pink?

GUY DAVID

She wore a pink ribbon
And a pretty pink dress
Everyone loved dear Betty
She was the fairest of them all
Everyone brightened and cheered
As she walked past the street
Said “Hello” and “How are you?”
And gave her a treat
She also had many suiters
Standing in line at her door
Wanting to meet her
And maybe to score
She was generous with them
And let them inside
They always came out
Glowing pink and with pride
Eyes where turned back in wonder
As she wilded her ax
She murdered little children
And cut old ladies in half

MATTHEW

My blushing bride was beautiful in every way. Her face was soft and her smile was bright. She smiled coyly, as she approached the altar slowly. Her dress, so white and pure, offered no resistance, sliding smoothly on the floor.
“I do,” I said, and she did too.
Her cheeks grew further pink when I kissed her softly in front of all. Our lives ended here; a new life begun as one.
Only her life truly did end: a sudden attack of a heart full of joy. Her cheeks no longer pink. Into the cold of death she did sink.

TOM

Everyone has a nemesis. Who with rod and sword cuts one down to size. Sometimes that tester is huge dark and fiery. Sometimes the tester is gaunt pale frosty. Lawrence’s nemesis was Pink. A six foot bunny with a six foot rod. When Pink swung his sword he swore at Lawrence “Get bigger you bugger.”
On one occasion Lawrence lit up a match and placed it under his palm. Pink had no option but to do the same. After a minute the Bunny screamed and crushed the match.
“What’s the trick?” asked Pink
“Not caring.” said Lawrence growing larger then life.

LAIEANNA

Poor Timmy, size to small
Bullied by boys, one and all
On his way or at school grounds
They sought him out for a good face pound
All for a pink lunchbox with a tiny bell
That chimed lightly when he’d skip to his hell
“Why use that? Are you a girl?
Where are your laces and pretty pearls?”
Timmy held it with all kinds of pride
Whispering “There’s magic inside.”
They laughed and grabbed, flinging his lunch
Gone was his sandwich, and cheetos with crunch
Including his pudding, favorite flavor vanilla
But also came out was an angry gorilla

JD

Each state had a flag that men could rally to, charge up hills behind, carry in front of parades, you know, do all that swell stuff that makes for great stories while setting around the cracker barrel shooting the shi…you know what I mean.
Well the General wanted a flag for the whole country. What he wanted needed to symbolize the struggles of the past, the hopes for the future, the unity of the present.
Something that would make great propaganda.
Well, Betsy made a glorious flag.
And then she washed it.
In hot water.
Red, Pink, and Blue.

ELISSON

I tell the tale of Pincus Pink
Who lives under the kitchen sink.
Is Pincus crazy? Ask a shrink –
For Pincus is my friend.
The day I first met Pincus Pink
I saw him at the skating rink.
He drank a most peculiar drink –
A whiskey-prune juice blend.
Say what you will of Pincus Pink:
He does not care what others think.
He uses epithets like “Chink”
Which drives folks ’round the bend.
The living space of Pincus Pink –
It has a noticeable stink,
A pong to make a strong man blink,
And then his clothing rend.

CALEB

There is… Where?
There’s a rumor! Eek! Cut it out!
There’s a rumor going around and It’s making me dizzy.
There’s a rumor going around and round and around and where she stops nobody knows Whee!..
There’s a rumor going around about my seeing pink. Pink a dink a doo a dink a dee a dink a doo oh what a croon for tuning!… No.
There’s a rumor going around about my seeing pink ella… ella Fitzgerald, NO! Mel Torme? No!
There’s a rumor going around about my seeing pink elephants! But it’s not true! We’re just good friends… really!

CHRISTOPHER

Hey.
I’m bored.
Care to go skipping stones and feet on Saturn’s rings with me?
We can hitch a ride from the next passing comet.
Stop for a snack on Jupiter’s moons.
Swim in Neptune
and
console Pluto
before turning back.
On the way in, slide down the tail of a shooting star.
What do you say?
Let’s see what’s out there.
I’ll swing by in Haley’s ride around civil twilight.
Pick up a tank of gas in the sea of tranquility, then sling shot past the sun.
On more open stretches we’ll see what this thing
can
really
do.

Z

For some people, the shade of pink they were born with is perfectly adequate for their skin.
But for the vast majority, a little something different is needed.
Some red on their nails…
Perhaps a little something on the lips…
A little blue over the eyes, too?
How they achieve this change, well, that can be horribly expensive and quite possibly dangerous… and unhealthy.
To us, that’s what we call “profit.”
And if a few monkeys or bunny rabbits have to die, that’s too damn bad.
Besides, they’re much cheaper than the prisoners we used to test this crap on.


OTHER CRAP:
Carnal Knowledge is a book by one of my favorite daily podcasters, Charles Hodgson. I owe this podcast’s continues survival to his inspiration, since I often come up with my stories around the words he reviews and tales he spins about their odd origins.
If Garf isn’t too annoyed with my constantly screwing up the call to the show last week, well, I’ll be trying to drop by his High Tech Texan Show on Saturday to give a report on SL in business, that kind of thing.
There’s some kind of write-a-review podcast contest out there at Podcast Pickle going on.
Write reviews, win prizes. That sort of thing.
There’s also a way to write reviews for this podcast in iTunes and other directories.
Your Mostly Fearless Leader doesn’t command you to do so, but he is somewhat whinily cajoling and imploring you to do so.
Let a tiny slice of the world know how much you like or don’t like or could care less about this not-quite-so-bold endeavor.
Thank you.