Humor
Sharing with Pop Pop
I will start by admitting that my father and I have large sweet tooths. In fact, they are large enough to possibly qualify as sweet bones. I’d always thought it was a learned trait and I could possibly prevent my kids getting the same. That is where this story begins.
By Michelle McBride5 years ago in Fiction
Kitchen Royale
At what point do you consider something to be a vice? Is it when someone repeats a habit so consistently; that missing it completely throws them off? Marlon has a serious vice. Every Friday, he leaves work ten minutes before closing just so that he can make it to the corner bakery. It’s a shoddy little hole in the wall that not many people notice. Even he accidentally fell into it. On the way out, he’s always caught with judgemental eyes but his hankering and addiction to confections overrides his sensibilities and his ability to feel guilt. In five minutes he’s able to reach the bakery. With it’s grey facade and dark tinted windows it perfectly conceals the pastry heaven on the inside. The hanging doorbell rings as he hustles in as if he’s reached refuge. No one is at the counter but Marlon isn’t phased. He inspects the display case. All the tarts glisten with their glazes, powdered pillows of dough are covered in powdered sugar like little bunnies all nestled together, and then there’s chocolates; too many to keep track of.
By Go Strongwill5 years ago in Fiction
Chocolate By Death
Death took a shortcut through the shopping mall. He tended not to linger – when he did, shops closed, businesses went bankrupt, trees died and so on – and most people, not noticing Death until he was looking them in the face, just felt a chill down the spine and a portent of their own mortality.
By Andy Killoran5 years ago in Fiction
Aunt Flow
Here we go again, and it started at work. Now I'm a mess and hot, my stomach hurts and all I can think of is chocolate. Four hours left to go and I am not going to make it. Who invented cramps? I need to sit down and have a conversation with Ms. Cramp maker. At what point in my creation did you think ‘ hey lets rip out the inside lining of her organ and make it as painful as possible while causing excessive bleeding, hot flashes and bloating.’ Oh well back to my desk I go, with my paper towel sanitary napkin because my pads are in my purse. Which coincidentally is at my desk next to my wet wipes. Well now that I have taken care of that issue, Back to work. This computer is moving so slow, or maybe I'm just moving fast. I want some chocolate, I wonder if the vending machine has a candy bar. I'm going to go check, hope no one is paying attention to the fact that I have not done a damn thing since I went to the bathroom. I'm actually kinda tired, I want to go to sleep. My legs feel like jello, why am I so heavy with all this stomach. Wow and now I'm gassy, great hopefully I can hold it until I get near the vending machine. There is no one over there and this might not be a quiet one. Oh no I might not make it! OK let me walk a little faster. Finally! and not one candy bar, damnit and that was not a quiet fart. Someone had to have heard that somewhere in this office. I'm just gonna walk real fast and not make eye contact with anyone one. Back at my desk, breathing heavily, that little walk took everything out of me. After all that still no chocolate and I would kill for some chocolate right now. It's almost break time, maybe the cafeteria has a cookie or some cake. I'm going to sit here this whole time watching the clock thinking about possibly getting some chocolate at lunch. I still have yet to do any work. I don't want to be here right now. I'm tired and my feet hurt plus it feels like my stomach is about to explode. That was a quiet little fart great, but omg why does it smell like that. What did I eat for dinner last night, that smells absolutely awful. I cannot do that again I may pass out and then someones gonna have to come over here to relieve me and smell that and pass out themselves. I'm gonna have the whole office running from the funk. I gotta stop being so hard on myself its not me its the gas, from this stupid period. It's like mother nature has a personal vendetta or something. What did I do to deserve this pain. Well I did steal that ladies drink out the fridge last week and she was real thirsty at lunch. But she ain't mark it or nothing how was I supposed to know. It was good anyway, one of those new fruity drinks with the actual fruit in them, so good. I did also lie to my cousin about not wanted to go with her to that party next week. In my defense I know who gonna be there and I am not interested in being around any of those people. I did reject my mom's phone call today too, see she told me god don't like ugly so yeah maybe I deserve it. Why does it have to be this bad can't I just get a light period with some baby cramps and a headache. Now that I could handle, take a few Tylenol and some water and a nap. Be up in a few hours feeling fine. Not me though i'm going to be in the bed with a heating pad, some chips, chocolate and warm tea crying like “it ain't my time lord”. Wow I have really been talking to myself for 40 minutes and now it's lunch time. I better stand up real slow and not open my legs to wide. Last thing I need is to stand up and bleed out this pad. That would be the worst, can’t recover from that. I would need all new pants and undies maybe even socks, what if it got on my shoes. That would really be embarrassing I'm going to just move real slow and pray the whole way up. OK I didn't feel anything drastic happen so maybe I'm good. Now let's go get this chocolate, cuz I want chocolate and cake or cookies maybe both. I'm not that hungry, or am I? I could eat cookies and cake right now, I might even want to. This line is always so long, it's like everyone in the building is hungry for lunch. Don't any of you eat at home? I just want some chocolate. Oh my goodness I see it, they have chocolate cake they even have double fudge chocolate cookies. Now to wait in this line to get my chocolate, I wonder if they have any milk, I can't eat chocolate without milk. I know this women did not just buy the last cookie? Yes she did, OK no big deal there is still cake, I can still get cake. There's only two pieces left, why am I the fifth person in this line. I wonder if they will let me skip if I explain the situation in grave detail. Like I'm bleeding to death and my insides are falling out I just need chocolate to save my life! No too dramatic I have to be more tactful, present it like a business proposition. Like hey can I take your spot in line, I'll pay for your meal? No? Maybe? That is not gonna work, these people all look real hungry to, I think the guy in front of me just bit his pencil, that is gross. Yes I'm the next person in line, chocolate cake here I come. This guy is sure taking a long time to place his order. Like what standing here for an hour didn't give you enough time to decide what you wanted. Finally, yes, can I get a piece of chocolate cake and a glass of milk? " I'm sorry someone just bought the last piece" 'You have got to be kidding me, I just stood here all this time for a piece of cake and you sold every last piece? why would you do this to me can't you see I'm in need I'm having a female crisis over here and the world is closing in on me and I just needed some chocolate". " I'm so sorry ma'am" Wait I said that out loud Oh no. " I'm sorry I don't know what came over me, excuse me please ". Wow I have really done it now, I'm so getting fired. Yelling at the cafeteria staff in a violent menstrual cramp rage. I should take some time off and get my life together. This cannot be real. " Excuse me miss", " yes" ," I couldn't help but overhear what just happened over there" ,"Oh I am so sorry you had to hear that, I have no idea what came over me", " It’s ok I'm actually use to it my wife is on her period this week as well, Here I would like you to have this. I am on a diet anyway and standing in that line hungry allowed for some impulse purchasing", " Are you sure, I couldn't, it's yours", " No please I insist", " Thank you so much" What a nice man he really just gave me his cake, now I want to cry but I won't. I'm going to eat my cake first and then maybe I'll cry. I'm so happy finally chocolate, mmm. Wait.... Oh no, no no no no no, this isn't chocolate, this is coffee. Now I will cry, I quit and I'm going home good bye.
By Randi henley 5 years ago in Fiction
Battle of Wits: How I was outsmarted by a bull
Three weeks. Three weeks the young bulls had been tormenting my horsey existence. My two horses currently shared a paddock with four bulls, full of the vigour of life. All were as black as clouded night. Handsome young Angus beasts. Quickly figuring out that the colourful tubs bestowed upon their equine paddock mates of an evening yielded delicious treats, the bulls only had to steal a feed once before I decided to feed the horses in the next paddock. A nuisance, but it trumped a repeat of my prior humiliation. My huge bay gelding was quick to give up his feed to the short, stocky beast that barged into his feed tub. I was left to wave around an old bit of poly-pipe (PVC pipe), not game enough to give the bull a tap on the rump in my effort to salvage my dear old gelding’s remaining feed.
By E.B. Mahoney5 years ago in Fiction
Primaversary
The creak of a heavy door swung slowly, opening to a cement, well lit room. Floor-to-ceiling windows and glass doors spanned the south wall exposing a courtyard that connected to the parking lot. Rows of tables set the stage of a classroom on the west side of the room. Vertical pallets stacked with magazines and heavy forgotten art history books created a make-shift library in the southeast corner of the room. On the other side of the tables, a counter and sink sat in the corner. Baskets and shelves of art supplies hung from the wall. A rug, surrounded by chairs and a stage in the center, sectioned off the back corner.
By Sarah Nguyen5 years ago in Fiction
Debutante Darlings, Harlots and Debonair Charlatans
Big Les held the best parties. At turn of the twenties the great, vain fun of the many heirs of Long Island were just these such events thrown by the poorly closeted bootlegger. Mansion, garden and ocean strolls. Sultry evenings in summer limelight under the stars and all the money whore males drinking mock cocktails. Those who were bold enough, connected even sometimes snuck in real champagne or sparkling wine. The fanciest pimps depraved enough even brought with them their best girls.
By James B. William R. Lawrence5 years ago in Fiction
The Tabby, the Joker & The Box
I awoke with the knocking on the door to my apartment, the peperoni pizza and two lager I had the night before took its toll, and I wasn’t that quick on getting up and the dreams I had about some scantily dressed actress from the movie I had watched while eating said pizza I wasn’t too quick to get away from, but the knock was followed by the ringing of the doorbell. With mild hesitation I moved the 40 feet from my bed to the front door, making sure I had some semblance of clothing on for when I would finally open the door.
By Timothy E Jones5 years ago in Fiction
