I’m absolutely fat with trepidation, girding my loins for the salty kiss of disappointment, with its inevitable tooth-gnashing and garment-rending bummer-hood.
It’s important that the trajectory of coming down off coffee not go too far until the coming onto cocktails starts in.
Walking around in that dim light I felt like the clouds were thinking about taking a nap, and that they’d just fall out of the sky right then and there, straight down, blanketing everything that couldn’t move, including me.
Sometimes the high point of an entire day is successfully removing the splinter that’s been lodged under your thumbnail for a week.
The Cheerios Batman Launcher is extremely inferior, so if the Penguin ever shows up at your house and that’s all you’ve got, believe me, bat friends, you’re in real trouble.
The novely of the mechanical duck had long since worn off: it’s chiming quack and clanking about in random circles was beginning to drive me crazy, and there were another four to construct and soak-test before next Saturday.
His bigotry had reached such a crescendo that he even began showing pride in his lactose intolerance.
“Crystal” (nee Cindy) had begun referring to her ethnic clothing boutique as “Bogus Bohemian,” but never in front of the customers.
The Hippocratic oath sounds a lofty ideal, until you actually read it.
The idea of becoming a lawyer had occurred to him first as a form of rebuttal to his friend’s opinion that the nearest thing to a lawyer is a privateer; gradually he was seduced by the idea.*
* This sentence slightly modified from the original.
We have our past before us—the past’s the only real thing we have, and we can learn a lot about living from it; the present is nothing but an illusion—as fast as you blink your eye it’s already part of the past; and the future—the future’s a dark hole no one can see—it may not even be there, because while we’re talking, death can come and carry us away.*
* Great liberties were taken with the original punctuation of this sentence in order to make it Scrine-compliant.
When was the last time you really looked at the moon and the stars?
As she prepared for the garage sale, Jocelyn observed there are lies, damn lies and exercise equipment.
If I weren’t married, I would own much bigger, more expensive speakers.
Julius decided to follow everyone’s pithy career advice “do what you love” and “wake up every morning looking forward to going to work,” launching a decade-long spree of tracking down and killing in the most crude and messy manner first virus writers and later the initiators of erection-spam.
“No,” she lied with a submissive smile, hoping to expiate her own sins and drive back the demons of her crappy self-esteem, “it doesn’t hurt at all.”
Disappointment is requesting any non-vanilla-flavored milkshake, then finding out a minute later and a mile away that you were given a vanilla milkshake.
Baby’s sleeping with my best friend, dog is chewing up my loafers and the taxman’s come a’knockin’ on my woehome.
After he started going through a gallon of gin and juice a day, Snoop Dogg’s woman put her foot down and he began lamenting the fact that he had to return each night to what he began calling his ‘woehizzy’.
“Daa-ad, ‘lol’ is not for old people—you’ve ruined it for me now.”
It’s amazing how unimportant you are at work, until there’s something really mucky to be done, and then you’re Little Ms Wonderful.
The scruffy man rested against the inside of the bridge, thinking longingly of his woehome and all the troubles it held.
I need a big shiny red button that I can push when I feel the need for the company of other Scriners, hopefully one that will reach towards their slumbering forms and swiftly prod them in the buttocks.
Baseball smells like concrete and beer, like dirt and lime chalk powder, like old leather and vinegar and the kind of green that stains.
As inspired by: boot's Scrine-o-matic
Although he’d completed work on the butt prodding, Scrine-O-Matic prototype, Keith could never quite build up the courage to test it on himself, and the people who always replied to his advertisement in the trade magazines simply gave him the creeps.
The boxcar might be cold and empty, and it might jerk me awake from time to time, but it beats the hell out of that woehome place I used to call home.
Maybe we should just get a goat.
If a departmental employee runs over and kills an unrelated party while on company business, does it have to be reported to OSHA if the employee is unhurt?
“A failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.”
Well this is getting a little freaky, because lo and behold my new computer voice “Janet” is opening programs without my permission and trying to tell me a knock knock joke to which I feel compelled to scream “DAMNIT JANET! I love you!”
Apparently instructing Janet, my voice automated computer, to go to the Rocky Horror Picture Show fan site every time I say ‘time warp!’ is normal.
“Sure I get drunk every other day,” my friend Schuster told me last night, “but I like to think of myself as a half-sober kind of guy, which makes me an optimist.”
As inspired by: Jo's Things Having To Do With Stuff
If at first you don’t succeed, skydiving is not for you.
To be or not to be is not a question. At least it doesn’t end in a preposition. Not even a post preposterous position.
As inspired by: littledevilworks's random
In the rare case that one is lucky enough to find employment with a company that does keep a goat, the employee will often find that the mandated training regarding proper use of the milking stool, as well as the extensive documentation that must be read, usually during one’s personal time, is overwhelming, causing most employees to either avoid the goat whenever possible, especially during breaks or lunch hours, or in some cases, even attempt to pretend that the goat simply does not exist.
As inspired by: Keith's OSHA’s Position On Goats
True story from my high school: Eddie’s position on goats got him the nickname “Billy.”
“My work may be garbage but it’s good garbage.”
i had the virus implanted into my arm this afternoon; how long until i go all blank and emit the blue screen of death?
The name of my band will be ‘Aryan Superqueer’ and our combination of irony and the ability to melt people’s faces with our ability to rock will change the world, mostly, but not entirely, for the better.
In her attempt to find a new moniker, she delved deep within her soul to propose the un-fluffiest namesake she could think of: one Porcupine it was.
They are stealing my sunlight and my warm, gentle mornings.
You’re my heroin (and I’m knocking on your cellar door).
You can’t buy me love, but placemats seem to be in your range.
I am discovering a certain poetry in words like methyl bromide, pendimethalin, and parquat dichloride.
You see pumpkins this time of year wearing toothy grins while lounging about suburban porches, but I fail to see anything grin-worthy about having your innards scooped out through a hole in your head, then having a candle shoved into your hollowed-out shell.
Given how this week has gone I’m going to load up some magazines and we’re going to have a little discussion about the finer points of life.
A failure to plan on your part DOES constitute an emergency on my part.
is to tell the ‘wood eye wood eye’ joke to see if either 1 they dont get it right a way and think its funny or 2 do get it right away and find it an OK joke and note: if they can figure it out AND find it funny, they have more than a few problems about them.
With the last of his childhood heroes, crucified, dead and burried, Jack resumed creating mash potato sculptures with butter and sour cream
Jake found it hard to believe that Jack Kerrouac was really a radical right winger who loved playing dress up with J. Edgar Hoover…true story.
There is perhaps no stronger testament to American ingenuity and creativity than aerosol cheese
Pay phone calls (when you can find a pay phone) are becoming more expensive that I doubt anyone can really afford to call someone who cares.
Sometimes the only thing that’ll perk up a guy’s afternoon is a little Hayseed Dixie.
As inspired by: 'mouse's Lawyer’s lament (or, I bet that would look good in Latin above my door)
Welcome to the Helpdesk of life where your options are many and varied: you may lodge a complaint here and if we deem it essential to your very livelihood we may deign to respond; whining is not tolerated and will be subject to viral eradication (virus whinius) as mandated by the SysAdmin (the god of the Helpdesk); in extreme cases you may find it necessary to reboot entirely (it should be noted that this option is not popular with your mothers).
ravelry! invite! came! mine! (burma shave.)
Jesus; oh God I said Jesus; oh Jesus I said God.
i believe a possum is trying to climb in the bathroom window.
I have little to no artistic talent in crafts that involve anything other than needles.
Toasters are one thing, but boots have more weight.
There are times when the only way you can keep some thoughts inside your own head is to apply a solid, resounding slap to the side of your own face.
Every night I follow the same routine: turn of the television, turn off the floor lamp, go over to the sliding glass door and open the screen in order to close the door, all the while silently praying to a god I don’t believe in that some furry little varmint isn’t lurking outside the door just itching for a chance at exploring the great unknown of my living room in those few seconds that the screen and the door are simultaneously open, close the door heartily and breathe a sigh of relief that tonight my paranoia of rodentia infestation hasn’t come to pass and know I’ll sleep that much better knowing mice and possums and skunks oh my aren’t nestling in my copious piles of yarn that obscure all but the faintest bit of floor.
As spring takes its warm hold on the weather, I sometimes worry that the only reason I’ve been hanging on to the bottom of the planet is my boots and, hence, I damn well take my time taking my feet out of those cool-weather shoes.
Lou-anne didn’t even realise she was the troublemaker until it was all too late.
I can’t cry over spilt milk, I’m lactose intolerant.
Muriel only felt love for her community when she gazed at it through the lens of her camera.
I have two blogs, but neither knows the other exists; it’s a little like being a bigamist but you spend a lot less time on the road.
Sleeping is always a good plan.
As I’ve joined the Scrine community, and reveled in the joy of long sentences composed of many complex words and thoughts I have given a thought to my old friend the parenthetical (he and I go way back in time) and noted that a good parenthetical (as opposed to a lousy one) can really illuminate a sentence (primarily because it neatly contains my asides without mucking up the rest of the sentence); I have also fallen in love once again with the semicolon and the colon, those twin brothers which can combine two different thoughts into one complicated illustrious creation (but I still loves my parentheticals more).
Peering around the corner of the cupboard, the long, leathery boot waited and watched.
Sometimes your boss thinks it’s her idea that you should move to a different department; those times you should just keep your mouth shut and never reveal you’ve been orchestrating it for months.
There was nothing wrong with her drink, other than the fact she could have sworn she had put it away minutes ago.
As inspired by: 'mouse's 500+ (served with yummy snacks to butter up the judges)
As she began her tome, she anxiously searched for a topic of import that would capture the readers’ attentions and simultaneously lend enough material on which to expound; she could address the circumstances of coming by her peculiar nickname, she could extol the virtues and challenges of her favorite hobby (of which she had been boring other members on the chat line vociferously), she could delight the group with tales of her career mishaps (the boss who, when he traveled, and found it irritating to read his emails on his Blackberry device [which he frequently called his Blueberry] would require that his emails be printed out and faxed to him each morning [Scott Adams of Dilbert found this all too amusing]), but it all felt a little bourgeois; she also contemplated writing a piece de resistance in stream of consciousness, sure that her slightly bizarre train of thought would amuse her and her compatriots, but that seemed a little quotidian, too overdone; so she gathered her thoughts and sat with her laptop (a warm, heavy weight in her lap not unlike the heavy weight upon her shoulders) and chewed her lip nervously, hoping that she could pass this five hundred word test while simultaneously revealing a bit of her creative spark, her sarcastic sense of humor and her desire to belong to a group so utterly dedicated to the preservation of the word and the non sequitur; already she was addicted to turning her daily realizations into witticisms for others to read and comment upon (at this point it should be noted that she seriously debated the use of a preposition to end that last phrase, but upon finding neither a suitable replacement or the inclination to rewrite her work thus far, so she heaved a great sigh and carried on) and to fill the archives that would later be consulted by novice Scriners facing this same challenge; she stopped briefly to consider her next thoughts carefully, absentmindedly picking up the sock she was knitting and completing a few brief rounds in soft orchid-hued wool, smiling to herself and feeling the tension slowly ease out of her muscles with every stitch she knit; her thoughts drifted to the major life changes she would face in the upcoming months: the potential move to a new city, the beginning of a cohabitation with her betrothed, the change in her work situation and whether or not relocation would come to pass and necessitate a new job; if money were no object she would open a yarn store, but there was her career to think of and she dared not tempt the fates by mixing work and pleasure for fear it would result in her having to find both a new hobby and a new field in which to work; these thoughts swam in her brain, echoed by the dull drone of the television, the occasional sounds of cars passing in the distance, the faint murmurs of the child in the apartment next door.
I dreamed I was racing around in circles on a giant obstacle course, against a blind man, and barely holding my own.
Juan knew that Lou-anne wasn’t her real name, but that she revealed any name at all was not a slip and was meaningful, he speculated.
“Sure, the crazed-weasel sex is great,” sighed Juan’s best friend over his third Guinness, “but really, dealing with the emotional demands of two women really ain’t worth it.”
“Let’s see if I’ve got this right—you’ve put tens of thousands of dollars into your foreign fiance’s family over the last couple years and now her unmarried 18-year-old daughter has dropped out of colllege and is pregnant with twins and expects you to “help” with her wedding and the expenses of your step-grandkids-to-be?”
“Honey, honey, honey… you can’t expect me to believe that me taking out the trash is a good idea, not without a single market research report or a catch phrase; for Christ’s sake, at least tell me you’ve come up with a jingle.”
The family farm is not an easy thing to walk away from—both mentally and physically—and the last month has been tiring work, but I’m looking forward to the change.
William was a “fixer,” never happy unless he was rescuing some damsel he perceived as distressed, but always frustrated and moving on the moment he felt undercompensated in terms of the vocal, fawning appreciation he expected but which could no self-respecting damsel could ever maintain over the long term.
“Sure God created Man,” chuckled the Devil, “but I was the one who gave him the notion that free time was just around the corner, ensuring he’d run ‘til he died in his traces like a donkey chasing a carrot on a stick.”
The cold persists, the immune system rebels, viruses spread and it’s only Saturday.
Depression is the inability to imagine you are on your way, it is always being at the beginning of something grand but never towards, it is knowing what the state of bliss is but not being able to find a way there, it is not the inability to care about the world, instead it is not knowing how to be on your way there.
You can miss colic.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that when you close your door behind you each time you leave your home all of your worldly possessions gather together in an insane sex orgy and reproduce multiplicatively so that the next time you consider spring cleaning or that dreaded 4-letter m-word you will need exponentially more boxes and trash bags than the last time you completed these endeavors. Q.E.D.
the sunne is splendor cometh in a window to cast autumn pattern on the carpet, autumn wishes upon the inagining faculty; but still, the rain: it raineth every day.
Imaginary Keith kept an extensive collection of old road maps for most major cities, just in case he got the time machine working.
For the uninitiated, drabble refers to pieces of fiction precisely 100 words in length.
when you walk through a storm… you had better have a good strangle hold on that umbrella, if you choose to use one.
when you walk through a storm… the wind may try to blow up your coat a la Marilyn Monroe over a subway vent.
when you walk through a storm… you WILL have ‘rain hair’ - it’ll either be wet or so damp that any product that you used will be icky sticky.
I couldn’t tell you my exact bacon quota, only that I exceeded it this morning.
Only one thread connected the strange series of dreams I experienced last night: a very minor character from my past, following me around screaming the only thing she ever said to me: “Cynicism is the crutch of the crippled mind.”
Tumescent isn’t my very favorite word, but it’s close.
Stanley was on vacation the day management circulated the email that announced life has officially become fair.
The universe laughs in my face with car trouble, co-workers angry about a senseless departmental move, and former lovers who want to borrow money from me when I am contemplating the nature of bankruptcy and all it means.
After flunking out of the police academy the only job in law enforcement Dave could get was as the Sneeze Guard at Sizzler
One night a man went to sleep and while he slept he dreamt that he was a poodle; during the dream the poodle fell asleep and dreamed that he was a drag queen…when the make awoke he couldn’t remember if he was a man dreaming he was a poodle or a poodle dreaming he was a drag queen.
speel cheeker is not wot it is cracked up too bee
I have a plan to end the war in Iraq; all I need is an anvil, a safe, a pair of skates and a jet pack
My Airdale, Stanley gives a new meaning to “Stanley Steamer.”
Already well fed the fish are staring through the glass indicating something’s up, maybe rebellion or a coup.
It was the moments before he fell asleep that he feared the most, when all the thoughts kept at bay throughout the day took root and would cause him to stand at the foot of his bed staring at his pillow with the same apprehension that a person holding a metal knife feels when looking at an electrical socket.