Tag Archives: humor

Trifextra 38: Careful What You Wish

On to the weekend challenge. The Monkey’s Paw, a short story by W.W. Jacobs, is about the strings that come with granted wishes. We are asking you to write 33 words exactly about three wishes that come at a high price to the wisher.

First off, who thought of the Monkey Paw skit from “The Simpsons Treehouse of Horror II?”

Anyway, here are 3 wishes that kind of backfire.

__________

Rocket ship filled with celebrities shot into sun – it goes supernova.

Prize winning ‘package’ – no blood flow to brain, you pass out!

Acting/ musical/ reality show fame – suddenly awaken…on a rocket ship?!

__________

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Trifecta 43 – Ample Material to Work With


This week’s word is:

AMPLE (adj.)
1: generous or more than adequate in size, scope, or capacity
2: generously sufficient to satisfy a requirement or need
3: buxom, portly

Please remember:
• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
• Only one entry per writer.
Have fun!

Ok so between the 3rd definition and the name of the blogger who thinked it up, well it seems only natural, the subject of my post. Not that I think about it endlessly, or that it is based on a real event.

I’m wary about it being the third definition, as the first definition might fit, and the second makes me snicker in context. Whatever though, the final rule is definitely obeyed.

FYI this is Shakespearean sonnet form, but not one of his ‘lost’ ones.

______________

Ahh, the Mam…Memories!

One sight of her led me astray
My once good-natured mind could not rest
Pondering what would lead the way
To see that woman’s ample chest

Her tight shirts made me envision
T’were more precious than deep red rubies
One fateful day, I made the decision
I implored her to show off the boobies

I never thought I’d be so lucky
She pulled up her shirt, to my surprise
Her boobs popped out, a sight to see-
Until her nipples poked out my eyes!

My hands now fore’er outstretched, searching out in vain
For those elusive perfect breasts, to make it worth my pain!

______________

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Trifextra 33 – Three Tines

This weekend’s challenge is:

The Rule of Three is a writing principle that asserts that, in writing, groups of three have the most impact. This week’s challenge is to write 33 words using the Rule of Three somewhere among them. It is up to you to interpret the rule, just make sure to use exactly 33 words.

I thought about this and while reading the Wikipedia article, noticed there were stories/tales with 3 characters used as examples. So I thought up my own fantabulous trio that you may notice from time to time. I present to your voting selfs – “A Tale of Three Forks”.

_______________________

Skinny fork claimed, “salads start every meal perfectly.”
Heavy fork bragged, “I’m the main attraction!”
Dainty fork boasted, “I’ll satisfy every sweet tooth.”

Spoon, Plate & Knife agreed – “Get the forks outta here!”

_________________________

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Better Late Than Never 2: The Odds of Survival Are…

Continuing the BLTN series, here is another Trifecta prompt that I missed out on during the July 4th weekend. It was something almost tailor-made for Zombie Bunnies, but our heros and villains might have a little more time than that before the wascaly wabbits take over completely.

So I went with a little nerd humor. Ok a lot. (Yes as opposed to the high literature of ZB)

For the weekend challenge, we’re playing the ambiguity card again and leaving interpretation up to you. Give us 33-333 words with this as your inspiration:

The world will end in three days.

Meh, I ignored the word limit, since it doesn’t matter at this point, right? Enjoy!

* * *

“Well,” Peter commiserated, as they watched the news of the world’s impending demise, “at least we’re getting more notice than the people on Alderaan.” He and his friends were sitting in a bar they found called ‘Moss & Ivy’. The name was so familiar, it was pointless for them to resist going in.

“Or the Death Stars, particularly the first one,” Kelly added. Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Hey even Earth, in the Hitchhiker Series!” Christopher pointed out.

“I don’t think that counts,” Kelly argued, as she sipped from her glass. “They were notified months before, they just never filled out the paperwork.”

“Oh give me a friggin break, we…I mean they, didn’t have space travel abilities to get TO the forms. They didn’t even know about the construction. So they WERE notified last minute.”

As they began to debate their points more animatedly, the bartender stomped over to them, irate. “Listen nerds, the other customers are getting annoyed at your stupid conversations. And no,” he remarked as Peter held up his empty glass, “I’m not making any more of those ‘blue milks’. This is a bar, not your parents’ basement.”

The trio knew they should get out before the sabers started flying. They had a feeling they wouldn’t be able to influence these weak minded people anyway (a notion that made Kelly reconsider her level of Force premonition skills). They got up to leave, pulling their robes on, hoods up so they wouldn’t have to make eye contact.

“Go back home, we don’t need your ComiCon dollars!” one patron berated as they left, the front door shutting out the rest of the taunts.

“I knew it would just be a wretched hive of scum and villainy,” Christopher gloated as they headed down the street.

“Who needs these nerf herders anyway,” Kelly grumbled. “Let’s just go home and put on the original trilogy.”

“Blu-ray?” Peter asked warily. “I know you bought that new box set Christopher, you know, with the pink sabers and blinking Ewoks. Laserbrain.” Feeling irritated (especially since he would likely never sell that stupid set), Christopher gestured to Peter with his thumb and index finger almost touching, while Peter fussed with his lightsaber replica (purple blade for Mace Windu; Peter preferred the Vaapad fighting style), which was snagged on his belt.

Kelly interrupted their argument. “No, I have the VHS tapes, HSF* edition. These don’t even have those stupid interviews beforehand.”

The other two looked at each other and nodded, forgoing their rivalry. Together they headed home, each wondering if the story of Earth would be retold many, many years from then, somewhere in the Andromeda galaxy, and thankful that Jar Jar Binks wouldn’t be a character in theirtale.

*Bonus to anyone who gets this reference.

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Better Late Than Never: Had it, Missed it

Over the weekend, as I worked on the mega-challenge issued by Trifecta last week, I realized, as I peeked through my desktop folder creatively titled ‘blogs’, that there were some challenges that I didn’t finish in time, or read after the fact, but what looked interesting anyway.

So in honor of any that I missed (or will miss), I will designate these as “Better Late Than Never” or ‘BLTN’, which can also stand for Bacon Lettuce Tomato Nutella – but won’t.

This first one come to us via Jenny Matlock’s Challenges from a month ago. 100 words in addition to the six word prompt “You could have had it all”. I missed out by a day (well back then), but inspiration had hit when I read it, so why miss out on the chance to write something on it? Which is sort of what the prompt is about anyway, and hey pressure is off. Enjoy!


You could have had it all…
And I gave it (well, them) to you
Cleverly disguised as moments you would treasure forever
And recall, like talismans:
Your birthday, your kid’s, Uncle Pete’s age,
The day (rather night) you scored for the first time
but not the lucky girl’s (Susan Winnfield) birthday.
Weddings, graduations…six moments of joy and happiness
Could have been magnified 240 million times.
But, no, you chose the starting players’ numbers for the Miami Heat
Since they were winners – perfectly logical deduction!
That’s ok; with millions of players,
the odds would be that a mechanic from Swainsborough
Treasured those days more than you did.

*

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ODNT’s Writing Challenge – Letter #11

Well the Writing Challenges continue! You never know where they will pop up.

Ms. ODNT is hosting a challenge as we speak! It’s part of the Check Your Email Dude series, which came to an end…or has it? It is up to US to collectively keep it going.

Well I read through the previous and they seem like enterprising fellows. All they need is a little inspiration…

__________________________________________
Bill,

Welp a lots been up since we last spoke. Mrs J. has been hauling me all up and down the countryside, wine country, she says. So we switched palms for bushes, but at least no cactuses around here. Booze is booze I know, and though you gotta stand acting like you ain’t there to get a buzz (no tv’s to watch the game), they got some good snacks sometimes, some cheeses are all smelly and one was made of mold someone said, but they got ham so I can make little sandwiches. So I’m standin around drinking down some of the red stuff and some of the white stuff, when some other guy tries to talk to me, asking about how I liked the body, and I realize he’s talking about the wine. How can water have a body, except maybe a body of water? So I ask him, you mean like an ocean or something, and he got all excited, went on about how the vineyard was right on the coast, and yes the ocean spray got all over it, so he was all impressed and offered me and the lady a tour of the cellar right then and there. Mrs. J was all up on the offer before I could call it off, so down I went (to the cellar). It was dim and dusty down there, and a lot of barrels. He was going on about different wines and kept on saying vintage a lot. Some of the bottles were real old, like 20, 30 years. I start thinking and I had a relevation.

Forget the beer, what about water? I had a whole pool fulla vintage water. Maybe it picked up some of that ocean spray, or maybe some chemicals have been added to everyone else’s water except mine. You know, like how the water is supposed to be better in New York, that’s why they got good bagels. I could put it in some bottles (I got a bin with empties innit, I could just peel off the labels and slap on my own kind). I’m a little mad though; I scraped this layer of gunk off the pool last month- it smelled a little like that cheese. I coulda had some of those people over to try a little water and use that stuff for a spread.

Tell me what you think, and let me know if you got any bottles before turning them in.

Jud

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WayBack Wednesday – Nuuttinnn?

This week’s installment of WbW is one of the reasons I started this information skit project dealie in the foist place.


Ok. Where do I begin?

Seriously. Holy crap, this is the goldmine of 80’s commercials. I am going to have to categorize this.

Setting: Pizzeria. Let’s look at the signs posted around: Week old pizza, half price. No Screaming. Be Patient, Meatball! Yeah Jimmy’s running on fumes as it is, but hey he makes the pizzas to order.

That brings me to the next part: The cast. Two old Italian guys. That in itself is a lost art around here. Back in the day it almost seemed as though pizzaguys were mentored into the trade, like locksmiths, tailors, or Jedi Knights. Closely monitored during their earliest years, and if there was something that the Masters could sense about the young lad, he was taken away to an isolated compound (not a Hut!), far away, complete with wood firing stoves. There they learned even saucing, flipping the dough, and how much cheese actually qualifies as ‘extra’.

These days, I walk into a pizza joint and it’s a bunch of guys doing specialized or non-skilled labor: one makes pizzas, one tosses em in/pulls em out of the oven, another slices and hands ‘em out to you, another rings you up, oh yeah and one guy slinging sodas. Consider also that you’ll most often see that scenario in the .99 cents pizza places (pizza usually runs 2.50 -2.75 a slice) which are popping up all over NYC, Adam Smith would shit his knickers if he saw this. The worst economic model you’ve likely ever seen, which makes me wonder (being the advocate of lower profits on individual sales vs. higher volume) where they are cutting corners.

The kids:Leader kid in a leather jacket who’s just confident enough, but not quite a hoodlum-check. Girl with teased up hair and knitted sweater in some neon color and light Valley Girl airs– check. Nerdy guy with big glasses that are actually stylin’ for the time-check. Give them a couple more years and they are the cast for the latest Friday the 13th installment. Or Saved by the Bell. Same thing.

Zach Attack!

For some reason these kids want a pizza with extra cheese, but no tomato sauce (‘white pizzas’ do exist) but he flips the script a little more, BAM! No crust. These kids are ahead of their time, since gluten free is all the rage now that they invented an allergy to it, and even a few years ago these young upstarts could have claimed they were doing Atkins. So technically this commercial is still relevant. I wonder if Hollywood will remake this…

The order has been placed, the challenge voiced, the gauntlet thrown down, so Fred want Jimmy to make a cheese with nuttin’. “Nuuttttinnn?” You know you used to repeat it with your friends. Yes you did. Or at least now you will.

The Pitch– Polly-O String Cheese! In sticks! Individually wrapped! Stringy! Less cheese per package than a brick of mozzarella, but the same price! Now THAT would make Mr. Smith happy. I admit I had this packed in my lunch many times, forgoing any cheese in my sammich for this version. Dammit I love my mozz.

How does this turn out? Well Jimmy actually doesn’t make them a cheese wit nuttin; if he had, it would have been a pile of rapidly cooling mozzarella cheese, which does not congeal well when it cools, and not some pre-wrapped brand name cheeses. It really made no sense; where did the box appear from?

By the way, what’s with Jimmy (at about 19 seconds)? Does he go into a catatonic state when hit with this request, or did he reach Zen status? Consider that reaching your *ahem* peak usually involves some making weird faces, Jimmy may have had some Nirvana level big O going on.

Finally we get to ‘the best part of the pizza’ that is this commercial– The comments! “Bellissimo!” “Magnifique!” “Se se Bon” (or whatever). I have a story for this…
Years later: I am in Italian 1, Spring ’97. We are learning how to describe ‘good’ and ‘bad’ things. The professor mentions bella, and if the person/place/thing is even gooder than that, it is…Bellisimo.

Silence from everyone. I look around. Everyone’s eyes are giving it away. They know.

Suddenly hands rise and a student asks, “Aren’t there other words to describe. I mean manifique or something…” the professor moves to intervene, but not fast enough.

“Whatever,” another student blurts out, “I just wanna know what’s SE SE BON!”
The room erupts with laughter as the professor joins in knowingly “Yes, they…they just threw words in there, it’s not Italian at all.” Further proof that the 80’s made an impact that lives on in our hearts and minds, and could be referred to at any time for laughs.

Final Word: The best part of the pizza is the end crust!

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WayBack Wednesday – O Brittania!

Welcome back to another installment of Wayback Wednesday, a theme that I thunked up all by meselfs.

As you can tell, I was always a good student. Halfway decent even. I enjoyed going to the liberry, and read up on the things I was interested in. (Planets, dinosaurs, etc). Occasionally I even remembered to return the books on time. All of these things and less led me on the path to raising my intellectual hunger and awareness. The product below was not one of those factors.


A couple of things come to mind. Useless facts that is. We might go so far as to say points of discussion, if you are so inclined. Seriously, mention these points over drinks with your peers (as long as you are over 34 years old that is; kids these days have NO idea what ENCYCLOpedias are). Plus it’s an excuse to go out for drinks. I know, I know, who needs an excuse? Well the longer you go between interventions, the better.

Well I guess that is point #1. Kids these days only know WIKIpedia, which is user-generated, not carefully and painstakingly by Brittanicans, who are obviously wise men people who shared the knowledge they have preserved over the years. Maybe not as wise as the guy who keeps editing Justin Bieber’s sex as male whenever someone corrects it, but still, they knew a thing or 18.    

2. It’s totally radical how he mentions computers won’t really help him with his research. For that matter, his leather/iced denim hybrid jacket won’t either (he neglected to mention his pristine white high-tops). To his credit, somehow facts and answers were found and essays were written based on information that came from some source. At the time, books contains objective opinions, research and even a chart or two. Now what lies between thick cardboard covers.

Some things should stay lost. As lost as possible.

3. Before Wikipedia, we had Encarta ’95.  ON A CD. FOR THE COMPUTER! And that was state of the art – we thought “NOW computers can do everything, including help us with our research. There is no other worthwhile use for computers or the internet to make anything else in life easier, including bidding on other people’s crap or looking at nekkid pictures.”

4. On the kids TV game show “Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego”, the grand prize is the complete set of Encyclopedia Brittanicas. No, they did not get a copy of Rockapella’s greatest hits.

Who needs instruments when you have garish colors?

5. In the recycle storage area of my building’s basement, there was a stack of “Encyclopedia Americana.” I wonder if some Brittanicans broke away from the organization because of conflicting ideals, sailing away or stealing away in the night with some information to start their own encyclopedia and undermine the dominant paradigm. Depending on which one of those factions won the war, the logically they would be the ones referencing it.

6. Every year they would update this commercial, and the nameless kid in his pristine white cell progressed with a more rockin’ mullet, flashier duds, and a more cooperative/resigned attitude that he was starring in commercials pitching BOOKS, not NES games or junk food  like all the other child actors. It was like we were watching him grow up, even if we didn’t want to.

They see me rollin', they hatin'...

7. Well not print, apparently. Encyclopedia Brittanica just announced that they will no longer be printing books – digital media is where it’s at.

8. Finally, if you were the average family unit, you likely didn’t have EB gracing your shelves, educating you with the radiant glows of its awesomeness, and fooling people into thinking that you actually read them. Rather you probably had something less formal, but more fun…

There's an entire volume dedicated to the Red Baron.

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Musical Memories (Scintilla Project)

One of today’s themes is about a song that brings back a memory or a moment when you heard it.

While I will go to the 80’s any time I need good music, I do not equate them with any particular moment/memories; maybe sitting around my bedroom with a stack of cassettes, or a ride in the car, wherever we were going. The opening chords of “Welcome to the Jungle”. Rick Astley (the first time around). George Michael wanting your sex (yes YOURS!). Even though I look back on it oh so fondly, does it mean that it was a better time? No, the world had terrorism, political scandals, famine, and a nuclear power plant exploding back then too. But hey, we had a great soundtrack to it.

The Ozone layer never stood a chance.

As I reached adulthood in the 90’s, any hit song from that decade gets me nostalgic; even the ones I couldn’t stand. Like that song by Blind Melon that nobody cares about; just that “The Bee Girl” is in it. I heard it the other day and it’s still…wait for it…buzzing in my head. Searching the internet about that gal I learned a few things;

  • She got cute
  • She inspired more awkward teen girls than Baby and Laura Ingalls, combined.
  • People still dress like her for Halloween

None of which I can brag about accomplishing (I have ALWAYS been cute).

Even during that phase in college when I looked like Ace Ventura.

Then there is Faith No More’s “Epic”. This is from the time at the strip club many moons ago, when the next girl up asked if we had any (musical) requests; we wanted metal! So she indulged us with Metallica, then FMN. “You want it all but you can’t have it/It’s in your face but you can’t grab it”. Consider the moment – have there ever been more fitting lyrics?

These days, anything that is popular is due to it being awesomely awesome (very rare) or awesomely bad (daily basis). A Friday cannot go by without Rebecca Black’s song banging through my head. The “Climbin through yo’ window” rap/newscast song has made me paranoid about locking my windows. And my constant fear that anyone from the cast of Jersey Shore will make a music album.

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Scintilla Project; First Job

So I joined the Scintilla Project, I think. I am pretty sure this is a day late, but hey, it’s done!

My first job. I was 17. It was the local pharmacy/has the same crap as a supermarket but with slightly higher prices store.

I mean really what else should it have, besides–
• Rx
• Lottery
• Cigs
• Candy
?

Nothing, that’s what.

So depending on when you got in for your shift, you either worked in the back area helping fill Rx’es or running the lottery machine, or worked the front where you rang up everything else. Sometimes it didn’t matter; if you didn’t work the front enough, there were grumbles that you were slacking, since it was the busiest part by far.

Each one was a little slice of Hell.

Well first, co-workers were ok, I went to school with half of them anyway- so that was never really an issue. Plus I’m so friggin loveable.

Prescriptions weren’t too bad a racket, except that you didn’t know if there was something wrong with the script, insurance, dosage or availability until after the customer left (well over half the time), and you had given them a time frame, which according to them makes you legally/honor/duty bound. So then they show up and it ain’t ready, and you get chewed out. Awesome!

Lottery was actually fun in a demented pleasure or sociological/anthropological way. You got to see humans at their most desperate and superstitious. People who played sheets of various numbers every day, carefully added up. The guy who would think his lucky numbers up right there, sometimes changing them halfway through, sometimes right after you entered them, in which case you had to void them out and stop “jinxing [his] good luck by entering numbers too fast.” Yep, actual quote. You don’t forget winning phrases like that. You get them tattooed on your forearm, then pass it off as something in Proverbs to anyone who asks, years later. Anyway, there was the lady who brought in the supermarket sale ads, since winning numbers can be hidden within the codes (Dan Brown would later steal this concept). For instance – hmm creamed corn on sale, 2 cans for 99 cents? Gimme 299, 50 straight 50 box. (if you have never played pick 3/pick 4 games, the choices mean that you can bet that it will come out straight, or in some combination). I never recall any of these people coming in with big wins; maybe a box win which paid a whopping $40, which to the lady who bet $30 a day, mean a free day’s picks (which wouldn’t win).

No she never came in to play a ticket. I can say this because she is smiling.

In the front was candy. All kinds. From chips, candy bars, snack cakes and everything in between. There were fish bowls full of small candies, marked 5 or 10 cents. I couldn’t be bothered to remember which was which, so when I was on shift, all that crap was a nickel. I was a bigger hero than Willy Wonka (Gene Wilder version) himself. Most kids grabbed the small bags of chips for a quarter, or the Honey Buns, which were just cheap versions of cinnamon buns or something. Considering that half the frosting was melted to the plastic, I somehow never desired one. This was also around the time Coca-Cola was promoting their vintage type glass bottles, so kids would have those to wash down the candy with. Trouble was, they always asked to have it opened. The bottle opener we had was a twist type and was worn bald. So they asked what they were supposed to use, and I would just shrug in a matter of not giving a rats assy way.

Use your teeth or something. Whatever, just do it on your way out.

Cigarettes. Everyone smoked Marlboro. Seriously we restocked those twice a day, but barely ever the others. Except the old ladies, who smoked Chesterfields*. A cute girl I knew and liked tried to get me to sell her smokes. I refused, which didn’t lessen my chances of actually hooking up with her, since it was about 0% anyway. On the flip side – would it have won her over and I could have gotten 15 minutes in the building staircase with her and her ashtray breath? Wondering what could have been still doesn’t keep me up any nights.

*I should mention that the Lucky numbers guy smoked…no not Lucky’s haha, but Kools. Yes he smoked Kools. He would also steal caramel candies. I guess my markdown wasn’t enough.

So I worked there a whopping 4 months, when I turned 18, graduated high school, dumped my girlfriend and eh, just stopped showing up. By that point they were tired of my dismissive shrugs, and were probably losing thousands of dollars from caramel sales.

College would be a month away, and that’s when I learned to grow up a lot.

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