Daily Archives April 27, 2005

Jerry’s Better Day

Due to his piddling, the man known for highjacking enormous amounts of time and flushing them down the commode got sick on a pizza box that grew a mold so dense that it imploded and circumvented the room with gas like a ghost fart’s whirlwind. Luckily, his maturity level automatically kicked into second gear and he threw the box away but not before inhaling enough spores to render him unconscious.
During this time he had a dream that superpowers were bestowed upon him. He was able to lift heavy bikes, push open locked doors, and see through bedsheets translucently. When he awoke, a nurse gave him antibiotics and he turned on the tv.

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The Wind Candle

Some candles are put in windows in order to keep out the wind. They’re called drafters and they mimic forcefields, not unlike those on starships. My grandmother had one and said to not remove it lest the Bell Witch come inside.
I figured I was wise on her and that she just didn’t want me to catch cold during slumber. But it was hot in the room so I removed the drafter and cracked the window.
Just in case, I grabbed a clove of garlic from the nightstand and cuddled it under my chin.
As if my grandmother had planned it, a shadow floated inside the room straight from the window that I had opened!
The cloak in the shadow separated from the figure and I was soon draped over my bed in a quilt that smelled like synthetic rose oil with a hint of cod.
When what I assumed was the witch reached my...

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Edgar at the Starbucks

On a Tuesday morning in 1842, a witch named Edgar found himself in the middle of a stabbing field (called such by farmers for the hard stalks of corn left behind after harvest). He knew not how he got there or why he had a hard time standing. Once upright, his precarious gait allowed him to walk the line of a pendulum hooked to an S-track, giving him a chance to be impaled on a broken stalk of corn.
Two crows watched until the buzzards moved them.
Edgar reached to the ground as if reaching for dirt and broke his fall. A fondness for crawling ensued and his shoes made sled tracks across the field.
As he ambled to the edge, the two buzzards began talking. It sounded like English but consonants were missing in too many places to be understood.
Edgar grabbed one by the gooseneck and pulled...

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His Pants Won’t Pull Up

There was this young boy named Ralph Red who had pants that would not pull up.
It always looked as though he’d just been potty.
His underwear came up but his pants refused.
“Hello, my name is Ralph Red.”
“Alfred?”
“No, Ralph R-”
“HEY, YOU’RE PANTS ARE DOWN, ASSHOLE!”
“I know. I can’t pull them-”
“ASSHOLE!”

Whenever someone would complain about anything within earshot, Ralph would always reply,
“At least you can pull your pants up.”

c. 2003

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