Jesse’s Girl

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Ever since he first heard the song, Dr. Odd has been working hard on getting Jesse’s girl for Rick Springfield.
At first, he tried pheromones and hypnosis. That just made her confused and somewhat psychotic.
He considered violently removing Jesse from the picture, but that would just get the girl worried about Jesse.
Finally, he decided cloning was the correct route. Using accelerated growth tanks, he produced a perfect biological replica.
Without any of the emotional or intellectual experience of Jesse’s girl, of course. Her mind was a complete blank.
As for Dr. Odd, well, success hasn’t spoiled him yet.

The Soup

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Have you tried the soup?
Oh. My. God.
This has got to be the best soup in the world.
You haven’t lived until you’ve had this soup.
It’s got noodles. It’s got garlic. It’s got what I think are shallots. Maybe some thinly sliced mushrooms in there, too.
I know what you’re thinking. I’ve gone nuts. Nobody gets this excited over soup.
Well, that’s what I thought. Until I picked up a bowl and a spoon, and I tried it. And then…
Well, you know the rest.
So, are you going to try the soup?
No?
THEN DIE, HEATHEN PIG!

The Mad Grooms Brigade

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Some states allowed gay marriage. Others blocked it.
Just like the Jayhawks of Bleeding Kansas two centuries ago, the Mad Grooms Brigade formed in Massachusetts to spread awareness though ideological skirmishes.
They conducted border raids into Rhode Island and Connecticut, throwing cooked brown rice at weddings and registering at various upscale department stores or specialty shops.
It was the seditious flower arrangements that had the greatest impact.
Once discovered, they’d flee back across the border, out of the reach of the closed-minded long arm of the law.
Plenty of time to regroup. Plenty of time to plan.
War is hell.

Searching

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I don’t know which came first: Diogenes going blind or the poor old fool running out of oil in his lamp.
He’s stumbling around the back alleys, still searching for an honest man. All these years, he has yet to find one.
Yes, he’s asked me if I’m honest. Who hasn’t he?
I’ve responded “I don’t think I’m a totally honest person, but I try my best.”
Diogenes would chuckle and say “I believe you’re right. Keep up the good work.”
It is sad that he’s blind, because all it would take now is a mirror to end his quest.

The Sleep

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Just like bears and other forest creatures, creative websites hibernate too, you know.
They fatten up on content, build up their code nice and thick before withdrawing into their backup storage to last out the harsh winter.
Their pulse slows to an almost imperceptible thud.
Some sites fail to hear the call to sleep, so they rustle about, foraging for data.
They stumble about, blind and hungry.
When they come across each other, they fight, leaving bloody trails in the snow to mark their battles.
Eventually, the sleeping sites awaken to see their battle-torn comrades.
Thus, virtual life goes on.

The Adventures of Mustard Man – Chapter 15

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You’re probably wondering where I’ve been.
Well, the recent earthquake in Pakistan and India affected a lot of the mustard crop. A lot of the world’s mustard supply comes from those two rival countries.
Did you know that? I did.
And that’s why I went. Not just to lend a helping hand to the human victims of the tragedy, but to make sure that the mustard supply wasn’t endangered.
Because after those two countries, we’d have to rely on Canada.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my years as Mustard Man, it’s that you can never rely on Canada.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 42

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“All I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother,” said Abraham Lincoln.
“So what advice did she give you?” asked Mary Todd.
“The last thing she said was ‘God fucks everyone up the ass with a hammer!’ really loud,” said Abe. “It makes perfect sense, too.”
“What kind of hammer?” asked Mary Todd.
“Um…” stammered Abe. “I don’t know.”
Abe spent the rest of his life shoving different hammers up his ass. Claw hammers, sledge hammers, jackhammers…
Only as he was strolling bowlegged into Ford’s Theater did he realize he should have shoved them in handle-first.

Alone

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My wife, she went out of town. Seven days.
I dropped her off at the airport, tell her I love her, or did she tell me? Both?
I’m so confused.
First day gone, I trip and fall. I can’t move.
My neck’s broken?
How many days has it been?
I’m thirsty. I’m hungry. I’ve pissed and shit myself a bunch of times.
Phone’s ringing. Again. They’ll leave a message.
Yup. Message beep.
I’ve tried to yell, but I’m face down. Doesn’t go far. Muffled cries.
I can weep. But that’s drying me out.
Seven days.
So thirsty. So hungry.
Fuck.

More Coffee, Boy!

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“More coffee, boy!” shouts Galileo from the tower.
It’s always the same. My master shouts More Coffee, I run down to Pizaro’s to fetch it, and then run back up to the tower while he does his stupid experiments.
“More coffee, boy!”
“I have a name!” I shout.
“Yes, ” says Galileo. “It is More Coffee Boy. Now fetch more coffee, boy!”
As I walk out the door, I hear Galileo shout.
I look up.
A brown cloud, tumbling… turning… spreading… a searing rain on my face…
My eyes! My eyes!
And then I’m covered with a pound of feathers.

Odd Noises

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“There’s odd noises coming from under the bed,” said my wife.
I rubbed my eyes. “It must be Nardo and Piper.”
“Meow.” “Meow.”
Both Nardo and Piper were on the blanket.
“Or not.”
“Will you please look?” my wife asked. “I don’t like odd noises.”
“Fine,” I said. I leaned over the side and looked.
A dwarf was tucked up under the bed, reading from a calculator: “Three… five… seven… nine…”
“Can you please stop it with the odd noises?” I asked him.
He nodded. “Two… four… six… eight… ten…”
I pulled back up on the bed. “How’s that, dear?”