Thank you to the gods of timezones, for whatever allowed me the good grace to catch up and have a decent chat with three, yes, three of my favourite Scriners.
He padded down the boardwalk in the early gray hours of the morning and looked first to the corn dog stand, then to the “amusement” rides, and finally to a wet orangy-red spot on the wood; he then padded on over to the spot and began to eat last night’s leftovers.
Somehow, knowing that it was only a practice exam brings me no comfort at all.
If only someone had introduced my child self to jelly-center chocolates with the lillypilly-flavored ones, maybe I wouldn’t have hated jelly centers so much, and thus would not have been compelled to hide half-eaten chocolates under the sofa cushions.
He chews on electrical cords, the little bastard.
My rational side is like a four year old on Red Bull.
As inspired by: The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein
And she gave him everything: her leaves, her apples, her branches…until she was nothing more than a tiny, useless stump.
She pondered the possibility of turning an excrutiatingly inconsiderate, selfish, womanizing ex-lover into a toe curling, no strings attached, partner in coitus..
with hope leaking from their hearts as the minutes passed, the Salem Wrimos watched the door for a glimpse of the ever elusive Scrinemaster.
It was only when he stood on the small, wooden, termite infested stage in the small, ugly, seventy year old school auditorium before the small collective of theater kid’s parents who would think that the show was a hit no matter what brilliant, or for that matter, unbrilliant things that he did with staging, lighting and sound, that the under-appreciated, under-paid director seriously considered arson or, as his friends politely put it “just burning that bitch down.”
The meatloaf stared innocently at it’s creator as he gently rapped the end of the heinz ketchup bottle.
The sun, though some say it cannot be, is constantly whispering behind my back, as though I cannot hear it from here, and telling people I’m paranoid.
“I mean, it’s just really difficult to—oh, no, all of my eyelashes are gone again.”
There was once a man on the bus who wore a red suit and hat, whose eyes held the sadness of a lifetime, and I mourned that day that I could not know him better.
The more you hurt me, the harder I fall, but one day, I’ll stop feeling pain and prove myself stronger than even you thought I could be.
If those dogs continue to poop on my porch I’ll have to go poop on theirs.
My old car, the one with the ugly peeling clearcoat, looks quite nice in the rain.
Illegally downloading depressing, old music is much better than studying silly psychology…
“Why didn’t I think of this before?” thought Bronwyn, and immediately began meditating at her desk.
“They should make vests with sleeves,” my son said.
Now that he was retired and living on a budget, Henry found it ironic, although somewhat comforting, that only the most affordable girls wore his favorite blue eye shadow.
If you’re still undecided today then you should be kicked in the head until you decide or die.
Even right now there’s someone planning the next Presidential campaign.
This morning is powered by participation in representative democracy, a 5 a.m. wakeup call, interesting case law, and more coffee than should be allowable by law.
“President Chicago Coliseum Club Chgo Entirely too busy training for my coming Tunney match to waste time on insurance representatives stop as you have no contract suggest you stop kidding yourself and me also”
Voting really is more fun with paper ballots.
Occasionally he’d try to impress her with his knowledge of sports lore, but privately she knew he’d learned it all from NPR.
“This election has been going on 21 months, which means some folks have had two children in that time.”
Secretly, she enjoyed the second-hand smoke smell wafting through her apartment.
He did look upon people with “I just voted” stickers and free cups of Starbucks with dewy eyes.
When suddenly, the second-hand smoke smell went all Jamaican, mon.
No matter how incredibly tone-deaf you are, the shower head never cares just how loud you sing.
I don’t think I have ever been this excited and felt this involved in my entire life.
It was just then that a lady appeared that hadn’t previously been standing there.
Perhaps I counted my chickens before they hatched…
Hotlips Houlihan or Miss Piggy?
The Stupidians were an overly proud race who believed they could trace their ancestry through a long line of rather stupendous events; science would eventually prove that the name, as suspected, was derived from the more obvious word choice.
Here’s to the better angels.
I had a dream I set out to cross the Sierras on a dining room chair; in time, I grew disappointed at my mileage, and fondly recalled a previous dream in which I’d burned up the highway on a rolling desk chair.
Now that *that’s* all over with, it’s time to get some real work done.
“It’s my turn to rape, you go pillage, I pillaged last time.”
Overheard, my mail carrier speaking “confidentially” to my secretary: “You know this country is ruined, completely ruined now… That Man gets his money from You-Know-Who.”
Somehow the grass seems greener, the sun seems shinier and the world seems worldier today.
I won’t much miss them if they all move to Canada; Who needs ‘em?
No one will ever be as cool as Frank Sinatra.
Gauze is not the breathable clothing fabric you might think.
No matter what she did in the morning with her lobster hair, by 10 it would be snapping all over the place, even earlier on school days.
The hardest part about cooking Giant Squid chowder is chopping up the Giant Squid.
Everyone is chattering away about the historical significance of the first black president, but I’m wondering it this means that Mavis Beacon will be appointed to the new post of International Typing Ambassador; I don’t think so.
He was the only one laughing at his own funeral, a fact completely missed by the timid who’d run off at the first chuckle.
As inspired by: Keith's Typing Ambassador
As the UN Security Council meeting got underway, the translator for the Honorable Ambassador of Typing adjusted her headphones, then gently centered her fingers along the home row keys.
Bored, ‘mouse contemplated having a little fun with the recent-comments column.
There were times that M wished clothing was an unnecessary part of life, but then he would step outside, and remember just how cold it could get.
Dear Department of Education: Why, no, I am *not* finishing my studies on December 17, 2008, and thus will *not* be obligated to start paying my Stafford loan back in July…[trails off to breathe deeply into paper bag]
Dear Bursar’s Office: ASSISTANCE, PLEASE!…[stops screaming just long enough to breathe deeply into paper bag]
Eventually he would admit that he did it all for a man named Art.
If he’d done one thing differently, just one thing, he wouldn’t be in this predicament.
I’m not strong enough to do it, so if you’ve ever loved me, please, walk away and don’t look back.
Let the record show that at 12:39am CST on Friday, November 7, 2008, I have officially given up.
Ah, the language of cake.
As inspired by: boot's universal
I speak the language of pie!
If it were socially acceptable I would drape my body in red velvet cake and smear cream cheese frosting all over my nipples and other sundry naughty parts.
Henry understood that most of Freud’s ideas were largely discredited by the academic community, yet he couldn’t help but notice that every 20 minutes or so he found himself thinking of sex or food, and on really stressful days - both.
In general, men become more willing to tolerate the inconvenience of others in exchange for companionship as they age while women, as they age, become less willing to do so.
And on that fateful day, playbills were posted throughout the land, calling upon all magicians to gather in one place to begin construction of a most extraordinary tower that would reach so high into the heavens that those who climbed its long and many staircases would be able to spy upon the magician god and learn the secrets of The Rib Trick, The Disappointed Duck, The Pull-Apart Baby, The Born Again Virgin, The Functioning Appendix*, and many, many other tricks whose secrets had eluded them throughout the years and kept them from attaining the top billing deserved for their commitment to their craft, and this remarkable tower, the playbills stated in gilded letters so beautiful that those who gazed upon them wept with joy, would be known from this day forward as The Tower of Abracababal.
* sometimes referred to as the How To Pull A Rabbit Out Of The Unexplainable Parts Of A Man’s Bowels trick.
The headline reads “Carmakers Report Losses as They Burn Cash” but I’ve read it a dozen times now and every time I read, “Carmakers Report Losses as They Crash, Burn”
I think she said, “Politics and health care,” but all I heard was little tiny eggrolls and quiche.
As inspired by: Br. Ezra's Pastry Dialects
For me, it’s cheesecake.
I am fed, watered, caffeinated and *ready*.
I don’t understand how I could have missed my rebellious mustache years.
I hope no one makes a Part II of this particular patch of luck.
I suppose it’s wrong that I can’t help but giggle at the thought of babies being punched… unfortunately, I can’t remember the sound that makes *me* want to punch babies…
Why, yes, this is a sentence about Bill Gates, the shit his company creates and how I don’t like my new computer that comes with 64-bit Vista that doesn’t have drivers or support or even a workable compatibility mode for half the programs and devices I need to run my business, and which I’ll spend my Christmas break removing from my computer.
Yes, you did hear that right, the Big-3 US automakers are bleeding cash at the rate of roughly $10 million each *hour*.
Rufus thinks that one of his earliest memories of punching goes all the way back to his days in the crib when he thinks his mom when sock him on the chin to put him to sleep, but my friend Schuster thinks this is ridiculous because this would mean she would have to reach down into the crib and deliver a sharp upper cut; “And from what I’ve seen,” Schuster told Rufus, “she prefers the left jab when dealing with you.”
I’m not sure what it is that compels me to look down at my phone every half an hour, but I’d hazard a guess that whatever it is has brown hair.
As inspired by: OhNo789's on long nights and women
Every year around this time the nutrias knock on my door and invite themselves in for tea, and while I don’t mind the muddy footprints in the kitchen, or even the clumsy way they handle my cups and sometimes chip them with their teeth, I do sometimes find myself wishing they’d call first just in case I’m entertaining the geese.
I am fed, watered, caffeinated and *stuck*.
Every time the Troodon went to sleep he dreamt of a person, James Lesher, who would always walk the same way to work, and always stop at a small coffee shop for a breakfast of two biscottis and a coffee - two sugars, and one cream; he dreamt of James, a single father who could barely pay the rent with two wonderful girls, and yet he would happily go to sleep every night to wake up to the face of a blonde-haired, blue eyed four year old.
The nice thing about home ownership, thought Juan wistfully, is there’s always next year, referring of course to the persimmon tree he planted too late to bear fruit this year and the orange tree which the ants de-blossomed ruining this season’s crop.
Who the hell needs to add high fructose corn syrup to dates?!
Love eludes me; I have only the capacity for fondness, except as it relates to my children.
Missing dues dates and consuming great amounts of 151…I wonder if these two things are related.
We are going to take tango classes.
Round these parts, it’s hard to resist any song about crows.
Some part of me knows that I could, if I carried my shower around with me, take the music world by storm.
Do you remember what it was like before you knew what you were doing?
During his teen years, my house giraffe refused to go out into the rain, claiming that the neighbors laughed at his umbrella.
When you start by finishing a final exam and pissing off a foot fetishist in the same hour, you just know that a good week is on the way.
Rufus thinks that there is no such word as deader, and certainly shouldn’t be tossed around when discussing his ideas or his love life, but my friend Schuster only scoffed, saying that the word deader is only considered grammatical incorrect by those who haven’t earned a living as a professional grave robber.
So far, the movie of my life has stuck pretty faithfully to the book, except for the regretable omission of the Bombadil scene.
I don’t know how I ever lived 40+ years without owning a jackhammer; no man should be without a jackhammer.
Ever since my wife told me my chainsaw isn’t big enough I’ve started looking at ads on the internet.
I believe it should be a crime punishable by death to have a disregard for proper grammar.
The crowd roared, and she swept onstage, imagining all that underwear.
A reliable source informs me that on this day in history, November 10, 4004 BC, Adam and Eve were driven out of the Garden.
In hindsight the past eight years would have been better had we been ruled by Lil’ Bush instead of his neo-fascist alter ego W.
I can’t quite remember what it means, but it’s so lovely and sunny that I’m not sure that I care.
The DJ who decided to follow Eric Clapton with the B52s on the radio this morning has no soul.
When push came to shove, Callister Hodge was in many regards not so unlike most billionaires on the planet, he preferred to hide.
As inspired by: OralGrist's capital punishment
Concerned over the IRS new policy requiring lethal injection for anyone making over $250K, Henry sought the freedom of Europe and hid his money, stuffing it deep inside a stained mattress in a creepy hostel nestled in an anonymous Geneva suburb.
Here is sime advice: Never post your Scrines until you have had all your morning coffee, otherwise they end up on Scrineblog-again!