Saturday, August 28, 2010

I'm late I'm late for...

"A crossroad errs"

Alice skipped along the dirt road in the enchanted forest. She was thinking about the fun antics of Mr. Hatter, who she took to be a new friend. The caterpillar was quite pleasant as well, though, she admitted, that is what a good dubie with do to anyone. She wished her kitten, Mr. Fluffley, was there with her in magic land to share these adventures with. As Alice let her mind continue to wander, she thought about her future in regular land. Her mother wanted her to be a dancer, her father wanted her to be a mathematician. Gramma thinks that lawyer is best and Grampa favors doctors. She wished she could make up her mind. She continued to wish this as she came upon a crossroads. A literal one. The road forked three ways.
“How strange. If there was just one more road it could represent my dilemma about my future.” Alice murmured. She then saw Mr. Fluffley in a tree nearby! “Oh Mr. Fluffley! You are here, great glory be, all my wishes are coming true!”
“Yes indeed Alice,” came a deep voice from Mr. Fluffley. Alice was astonished, and wondered if the caterpillar’s drugs had filled the air around her.
“Well, Mr. Fluffley,“ Alice said, “can you speak in magic land just because it is magic here?”
“Yes, indeed that is so.”
“Oh, that is grand. Since you are here, which road should I take? I was thinking the one less traveled.”
“The one less traveled would be quite a cliché. I for one think that it matters not which road you take if you have no clue as to where you are going.” Mr. Fluffley liked to be wise while in magic land.
Alice contemplated his advice. “I don’t think that is true Mr. Fluffley. Even if I don’t know where I am going or where I would like to be going, the road I go down is still important. Someone once told me that a garden unattended will still grow something, even if it is only weeds. Effects come, no matter what, and they will impact me, meaning that it will matter.”
Mr. Fluffley purred. “Yes that is true too. But why does it matter about the road being less traveled? Why do you think you should go down that one if you do not know what is at it’s end? What if it is leads to a crazy fire monster that eats you?”
“Oh, I do not like to get eaten by crazy fire monsters.” Alice pondered and pondered for several minutes. “I suppose that this means that I should just turn around. Are you coming with me Mr. Fluffley?”
“Yes, yes I would love to. Let’s find some dinner. And I think that you should just become an editor or something like that, in case you were still undecided about your future.”
“That sounds swell. Let‘s also get some brownies for after dinner.”
 Alice and Mr. Fluffley gamboled off, leaving the crossroads behind. Just as well, they were all dead ends anyway. Literally. Just a cliff, a pit, and a rock wall.

Monday, February 8, 2010

It was possible in The Sword and the Stone

"The dish jams past a continental."

'All I am ever used for is holding the croissants,' the silver serving tray thought to itself one morning. And it was true. Every morning the workers at the Days Inn in Temecula, California opened the cupboard to get the dishes to lay out breakfast for the people in the lobby. Every morning Rico put the croissants on the silver serving tray and set it between the coffee maker and the butter spread. It was an okay existence, but the silver serving tray dreamed of one day being used for more than croissants. The silver serving tray mused, 'Maybe one day I will be put out for lunch, or even dinner! Turkey, or chicken, or potatoes.'

The coffee maker and the butter spread where concerned for the silver serving tray. One morning as they were waiting for the silver serving tray to be set out with them they tried to plan a way to cheer it up. "We should let silver serving tray know how much people love croissants and how important it is to be the holder of such a lovely pastry," said the coffee maker.
"Oh yes, I agree coffee maker. Silver serving tray has been our best friend for many years and we should help out," said the butter spread. They continued chatting till the silver serving tray was set down with them. It sighed its usual bored sigh as the people came by as usual to take a croissant. "Good morning coffee maker, good morning butter spread. I assume you are both doing well, doing the same thing as all of your yesterdays," said the silver serving tray.
The coffee maker and the butter spread both gave it a cheery good morning back, then started their plan to help the silver serving tray. First went the butter spread. "My oh my!" he chirped, "Those croissants sure are popular today! Just like everyday! Everyone loves croissants! Wouldn't you agree coffee maker?"
"Oh yes yes," the coffee maker responded, "croissants are fluffy, flaky, warm, and delicious. Everyone really does love croissants! Silver serving tray, aren't you proud to be the one to bring this lovely food to the masses at the Days Inn?"

The silver serving tray was not in the mood for a pep talk, but for action. "NO. I am bored and unchallenged in this position. Croissants croissants croissants. I have so much more that I can offer! I can carry so much more! I was built strong! Built to carry the weight of a whole turkey! And here I sit day after day holding up a mere two pounds of feathery carbs!"
The coffee maker and the butter spread were then speechless, as most appliances and dishes are. But in their case they just did not want to interrupt the silver serving tray's inspiring words to them.
"I am going to leave the Days Inn and go to the Hilton were I will be able to serve steaks and whole chickens! Will you two help me get out of here?"

"Of course!" the butter spread and coffee maker shouted for themselves to hear.
"I have a plan," said the coffee maker. " At night they store me near CD player. I know that CD player will help you silver serving tray."
"Let's do it," said the silver serving tray. They spent the rest of the morning plotting the exodus to the Hilton.

The next morning the butter spread, the coffee maker, and the silver serving tray were each placed on the breakfast table as usual. People came and went. The coffee maker blinked it's light to signal to the CD player on the back table. Suddenly the CD player blasted music and the people were in a commotion. "You Make Me Feel Like Dancing" was heard throughout the hotel. The workers tried to push the stop button in vain. Some visitors were complaining about the music, others were dancing along. The people did not notice the silver serving tray floating towards the door and bobbing up and down to the beat. The dish was truly jammin' to the music, past the continental breakfast that had been holding it back for so many years. Out the door.

"I'm going to miss that crazy tray," said the butter spread.
The coffee maker leaked a little. "Me too butter spread, me too."
The jelly holder came over to comfort them. "That silver serving tray sure knows how to jam to the tunes."

Saturday, January 23, 2010

On the Apricot Tree

"Popcorn shames the catholic."

Sandra Maria Rudolfo hurried to Confession. "Bless me father for I have sinned" and crossed herself.
"What is your sin sister?"
"I have stolen crops from my neighbor again. I am unable to stop myself. It calls to me and when I do not obey the voice, my hands shake, and I feel really really hungry. It is corn. I love corn so very much."
The priest remained quiet for several minutes, then, "Say two hail Mary's and leave me."
"Yes father," Sandra got up and left after crossing herself once more.

Sandra went home that night to bake the corn stalks that she had stolen from her neighbor. Sitting at the table with the blinds shut against the eyes outside and her door locked against the night, she ate the source of her guilt.

Suddenly a rapping at the wooden door.

Quickly shoving the corn under the table cloth, Sandra prepared to get the door. She let it crack open. The cloaked man stepped inside.
It was the Priest!

"Is there corn?" He asked in a whisper.
Sandra walked him over to her pantry and unveiled her store of corn piled to the ceiling. The woman stood silently crying and crossing herself. The priest stepped forward and picked up one of the corn sacks.
"Sandra," he said and looked into her eyes. "Have you ever had, had..." His voice lowered and he leaned in. "Popcorn?"

Sandra had never heard of such a thing. She marveled as the priest started up the stove and put the kernels of corn over it. They waited.

Five minutes later the sounds of miniature guns going off was heard inside the warm kitchen. The two sinners sat and ate the popcorn. Sandra was also finding that she felt very attracted to the priest. The priest knew that this would happen.
Women who love corn fall easily in love with men if they show her the ways to popcorn.
They ate the popcorn until midnight, then the priest left.
Sandra plotted more ways to steal corn from her neighbor.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Be Wary of Produce.

"On top of the pilot reckons an addictive tomato."

The tomato has cognitive powers. It is a reckoning tomato. This tomato gives its conclusions from its daily reckonings out as advise to whatever person is around. It existed on its own until a lonely and hungry pilot went to the grocery store to get the fixings for a turkey pesto sandwich. He put the reckoning tomato in his cart and continued on to get the lettuce. The tomato used its reckoning skills to decide which head of lettuce was best. It told the pilot which one to choose. The pilot listened to the tomato. The pilot let the tomato make all of the sandwich decisions. He got a second tomato to use for the sandwich.

He went home and had the best sandwich of his entire life. It was especially delicious to him because of his loneliness. From then on he let the reckoning tomato make decisions for him. Dependency on the tomato grew and grew until the pilot lost the ability to think for himself. The tomato's logical capabilities were limited to reckoning. It could not feel or make decisions "of the heart", even if it did resemble a heart more than most produce. This problem left the pilot to make bad calls when it came to things like being nice, having friends, and getting a girlfriend.

Time went on and the pilot grew old. Old and alone.Alone and addicted. Addicted to the reckonings of a reckoning tomato. While on one of his flights, the pilot felt nervous in a storm. He asked the tomato what he should do to stop feeling nervous in the air. The tomato reckoned and concluded that the best way to fix his nervousness was to stop flying. The pilot immediately landed the plane, quit his job and began an even more secluded life.

Finally, on the ex-pilot's death bed, he asked the tomato what would happen to him after he died. The tomato answered that he would be buried and that there would be a short funeral. This did nothing to comfort the pilot. He died as a tomato addict. The workers of the old people home found him with the tomato on his lap.

Thursday, January 21, 2010


"The coincidence cuts the poster above a far waffle."

The far away waffles have a poster above them saying that people should come eat the waffles. Far away from the waffles there is a couple fighting and they end up throwing something in their rage and it coincidentally hits the sign and breaks the sign.The sign had not brought many customers,But the breaking of the sign caused people to look over at the waffles, bringing them in to eat them. What a coincidence.