Tag Archives: humor

A Christmas Story

Up and down the streets she ran
With a black satin sack in hand.
Filled with sharp knives
She planned to end lives.

From house to house she crept so quietly
Looking almost, no, indeed shadowy.
But she was not alone with her sack
There was something riding on her back.

Green eyes gleamed riding through the night
Glaring around so full of spite.

“Who are you?”
A man’s voice asked
“You don’t know? I am not masked.”

“Get out of here! What do you think you’re doing??”
“Out of here? I think not. You are the one I’ve been pursuing!”
“Pursuing? You’re nuts! Get the fuck outta here!”

“Right now I can feel your fear!”
“Ha! That’s rich. I’m not scared”
“Like I even really cared”
“That’s it, I’m calling the police. They’ll have you pinned.”

The shadowy girl just grinned.
The man went for the phone
In one second he hit the floor with a moan.

Those green eyes glared down
“Ha! What a clown”
What a sweet voice.
The man looked up at those eyes
“Time to say your goodbyes”
With one swift move of a vase that man was gone.

“This isn’t so hard now is it?”
The shadow shook his head
The blood flowed red
“We have a long night ahead.”
He kicked the pieces of vase
“Yes, I know, Sweet face.”

With that the shadows did flee
That man didn’t even get a chance to plea.
Hours passed
This town sure was vast.
They went tapping down the road
Carrying the sharp load.

“Let’s go home now, honey.”
She huffed. 
“Quickly now, before it gets sunny!”
Up the stone pathway she ran
At the door they gave the town a brief scan
“I’m dreaming of a red Christmas.”

She turned the handle of the door
“This time of year is always such a chore!”
He sighed as he hopped from her back
She tossed down her big black sack.

He swept the dirt from his clothes
“The living should thank us”

She brushed her hair
“Those we killed were too much to bear”

She hopped up on the windowsill
“They made me positively ill”

She stared out into space
“And…back to my loving place”
She turned to her evil little doll
He leaned on the wall.

“Wanna open presents now?”
He smiled
“My goodness, child”
He laughed quietly under his breath
“What a quick transition from the subject of death!”

~Disclaimer: Though I found this piece among my old documents I doubt if it is mine. I am not this wicked 😉

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Once Upon A time

A man in his early prime contemplates on life, shattered by the distortions of society he gazes ahead in time. There were vows of happiness and fairytale beginnings. Now there is nothing of that sort; now there is nothing that started the tales so bright. It’s after all this while that he understands why fairy tales begin with ‘Once upon a time’…

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Thursday’s Artistic Hemorrhage

husband:

The Tent Pole Is Up,

The Canvas Is Spread,

The Hell With Breakfast,

Come Back To Bed.

wife:

Take The Tent Pole Down,

Put The Canvas Away,

The Monkey Had A Hemorrhage,

No Circus Today.

husband:

The Tent Pole’s Still Up,

And The Canvas Still Spread,

So Drop What You’re Doing,

And Come Give Me Some Head.

wife:

I’m Sure That Your Pole’s

The Best In The Land.

But I’m Busy Right Now,

So Do It By Hand!

~ rbxr

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Droll

If it means quaint, odd, strange, queer, eccentric, outlandish, bizarre, whimsical, then that is me. Oh, I have my own unique brand of droll self-mockery also. I laugh when I feel uneasy, I laugh when I see something terrible or read about hardship and misery. I laugh when I don’t feel good and I laugh when I’m sad. I have a very dry sense of humor and I am pretty ironic. You can say I am a droll little girl.

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Grit

“Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play-it-safers, the creatures of the commonplace, the slaves of the ordinary.”

— Cecil Beaton from Berlin Parasites

It takes a lot of small things to create a big pile or a widespread. Take for example a beach, a bouquet, a festival, a mass protest, a chaos, a war. A fight doesn’t happen just like that. It often starts with/from accumulation of small things that become one big thing like dislike, irritation, too much or too little of something. Divorce doesn’t happen overnight unless of course, you are a celebrity, then everything is possible. Suicide, murder, cheating, quitting, being rich, obesity and global warming, those are also products of small loose particles which seem to be harmless at first glance but become a matter of importance when gathered together over a period of time. Stress (which on its own is also a substance of… fill in the blank) lack of sleep and proper nutrition, isolation, no motivation, stimulation, and inspiration can lead to… you can fill in the blank again. You can even type my name in it if you wish. You have my permission to do so. Getting sidetrack again. Anyway, I can go on and on naming examples of what I think grit is all about but I know people don’t care much about long articles. Especially Daily Prompt assignments so, I will leave it here and proceed on looking for something to fill my stomach so hopefully my brain will function normally and perhaps I can find a decent sleep tonight. Happy Tuesday everyone. 

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True Love

I thought Transformers will always be my favourite film and Optimus Prime will always be my ultimate crush and for the longest time it remained true, till I saw the thriller of Big Hero 6 and behold this inflatable white robot that resembles a snowman/big marshmallow; right there in the cinema amidst popcorn munching crowd I fell in love on the spot, head over heels.

The fact that he is somewhat naïve only strengthens the feelings I have for this Healthcare Companion. Goodbye Optimus Prime. I never meant for it to happen but c’est la vie. Not every day a girl get the chance of meeting a man who is somewhat naïve, opportunity of a lifetime, grab it with both hands.

Given his guileless, calm caring nature and the fact that you can deflate and deactivate him with this simple phrase:  “I am satisfied with my care” make him a desirable wife material if he happened to be a female. I think it’s every man’s ultimate dream, being able to send their wives inactive from time to time. Don’t you think so?

Anyhow, the thing that made me fall in love with this bot is the scene where almost deflated he rest on the stairs landing stroking the cat on his lap saying: “Hairy baby… Hairy baby.” In my twisted brain I remembered it as: “Hairy thing… Hairy ball.” Don’t ask me where I get that because I don’t know. I already said I have a deranged mind, have I?

Three of my favourite quotes from Baymax are:

“My hands are equipped with defibrillators. Clear!”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain?”

“Does it hurt when I touch it?”

Imagine that… Does it hurt when I touch it… I long to say these words (and a lot more) to someone…

Bottom line is… who would not fall in love with this huggable plus-sized inflatable deuteragonist with no distinguish features? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder they say. And if your perception can go beyond the shell of appearance into the essence, then it must be true love.

Or not?

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Wet patch

I placed a comment on an article somewhere (I did not include the link because I have an inkling that the author does not want to be dragged to this sort of discussion. The person is yet to castigate me for messing up the comment section) about what part of a daily life which is awkward or boring we tend to forget while writing and I said:

“This reminds me of the love scenes in most films. They don’t show that one has to run into the bathroom in fear of dirtying the bed, or sofa or top of the washing machine, etc. Really, anyone can testify to this if at least one can afford to be honest in public that nobody in their right mind stays in bed after the deed because it is simply gross! All that running juices and sticky mess… itching and all that jazz… I simply cannot.”

Someone replied to my comment and said yes indeed bodily fluids are often ignored except in comedic situations and proceeded to tell me about a certain song of Lily Allen mentioning a wet patch in the middle of the bed. I checked out the lyrics and planning to forward it to somebody (yes I’m naughty) but the actual song I didn’t hear yet.

I’m wondering why they don’t show the reality of making love in books, movies or in TV series. Perhaps it doesn’t go hand in hand with romance? Ruins the fantasy? Not Disney enough? Redundant? Tell me… 

I’m not saying include the running to the bathroom to wash in every bed scene but once in a while will be good for a reality check. It will help us not to idolize and compare ours to what we read in books and see in films. It reminds me of fairy tales stories which media are feeding to young girls from the crib, giving them distorted ideas about relationships and life in general.  If you’re beautiful you will be okay. How about ugly ones, like me? No Prince on a white horse in shining armor? Not fair.

How about you people… do you rather see or not see those awkward moments? And I am not talking wet patch in the middle of the bed alone but all the necessities of being alive like wanting to go the toilet urgently while watching The Hobbit in the cinema, scratching, cramps, belching and allowing gasses from your stomach to come out through your…  you get it.

Or you prefer to keep it nice and sweet as not to ruin the mood thinking the reality is bad enough as it is please give us something to fantasize about even though we know the painful truth.

For my part, they can show anything, as long as it is done tastefully…

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Happy New Year!

Here’s to the future we can’t predict,
and here’s to all that we will meet.
I can’t say where I’m going,
but I know it’ll be something great
because it’s the kind future
that holds our dreams.

Here’s to the future that awaits us,
and here’s to the past that will follow us.
I can’t say I won’t make just as many mistakes,
or that I’ll learn from all my old ones,
but I know I’ll be better for it
because eventually I’ll get it.

Here’s to the future that we’ll finally grab,
and here’s to all the hell we got while chasing it.
I can’t say I didn’t break,
but I’m alive and kicking today
because I kept going when I wanted to cry,
’cause hope pulled me forward.

And here’s to those who see a bleak future,
and here’s to those fools who accepted it.
I can’t say anything to reach them,
but I cross my fingers and hope
that they’ll see something worth chasing
because any journey is better with company…  

~ not mine

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Mirror, mirror on the wall…

… do I have to dye my fur???

Lately, I noticed that white hairs starting to appear more and more on my head and somewhere else; more somewhere else than on my head. I saw that up there, common place is around my face; down there it’s usually around the… lips.

It’s so embarrassing when you’re doing… it. Especially when someone wants the lights on per se and… uhm… wants to eat. If I cannot find an excuse to dim the light, I usually ask if the person in question could please remove the eyeglasses hoping he’s farsighted.

Another trick is to urge him to look at me while doing it pretending the deed excites me but if the truth is to be told, it’s the other way around I think.  Ahhh… what a woman would do for peace.

Anyway, I never dyed my hair (except that one time in Spain when I had so many sangria and ended up with ten red tresses all around my face I looked like unchancy princess of darkness) and I don’t want to start doing it now. I’m a low maintenance girl. Go to the coiffure once a year; never wear nail polish, perfume, sun block or high heels. Make up is a big no – no unless I really, really have to. And my skin is so sensitive I easily get allergy I don’t even use deodorant for heaven’s sake!

But I worry about my tresses… having younger looking face but when you drop the knickers… it shows my true age. It’s like believing someone you go to bed is a real blond and finds out the next morning that either she is a brunette or a red head. How embarrassing is that?

And since we’re at it… is there anyone here who knows a good remedy for persistent dandruff? (I said dandruff not yeast) I tried almost everything to no avail. Help!!!   

Mirror_____by_GeSSa

perfect companion

I have a weapon in every room. No, not a gun (though I prefer to have one but…)

In the master bedroom, I have an axe which I bought accidentally without even knowing I did. I mentioned it already before, being in a DIY shop and admiring this beautiful little axe and testing the weight in my hand. In my memory, I put it back; but when I checked out I found that the cute axe was among my purchased. I didn’t return it. Not even crossed my mind to do so.

In the guest room I have this gorgeous ice pick. It feels good in the hand and looks so… harmless. I keep it in the laundry basket. The axe is hidden between my clothes. In the other bedroom there is a hammer, sleek and thin and all steel. It got a slim neck and easy handle of perforated rubber material for a good grip.

Kitchen… also a hammer but in different style, square head and really, heavy.

I know the place by itself is an arsenal, I don’t have to secure it one might say, but I feel better that way. Besides, anyone would know about the knives; but I’m the only one who know about the hammer (grin)

Next to the TV is a real axe, almost as tall as me. I found it in the shed when we bought the house. Must be for chopping wood, but I like it so much I wanted to hang it on the wall; but I can’t do it without damaging too much the already damaged wall, so on the floor it remains.

Why on earth I have these things? Same reason why I am locking doors of whatever room I’m in, I don’t want to be surprised defenceless. I remember buying two; no three massive bronze cats with extra long necks (for easy grip) from auction and putting them on my night stand simply because I thought it will come in handy. And I even hate cats!

And of course all that beautiful fireplace accessories! Poker and all! Handy.

All my candle holders are bought with the same purpose in mind. I can be anywhere in the house and I will be able to depend myself (ha ha) I remember the look on everyone’s face when I decided to put grills inside the French windows of the garage.

But they don’t see what I see. I can understand why they have to put locks and bolts and that entire security thing on doors but will leave the garage at the mercy of anyone who wants to come in. That window there take up the entire top half of the whole place, and it’s not even double glazed! Amazing!  It’s like saying: come in, come in.

What my-reason-for-living-in-Europe thinks about it…? I don’t really know. As far as I can see, it doesn’t bother him at all. He said he sleeps better when I’m in the room (God knows what that means) and I sleep better when nobody is around. I cannot even stand a smell of another individual on sheets and pillow cases. I want the room to smell fresh forever and its damn difficult if someone is insisting to sleep in it…

 

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