Once upon a time there was a dog and he rode this boat and shit happened. The dog traveled all over the world on the boat and they visited remote island civilizations and rode on top of gigantic waves and all sorts of things like that. It was pretty awesome, except the dog had a constant need for hugs. He couldn't last a day without getting hugged at least five times, otherwise he would pee all over everyone's beds since his bladder control was directly affected by the amount of hugs he got in a day. It was a very rare and debilitating condition, because this dog didn't like the fact that he peed all over everyone's things. It was kind of gross.
One day, the boat arrived on some strange island where everyone wore big yellow hats. There was no particular reason for wearing these hats; it was just the latest fashion trend. This was the place where the dog met the man who would cure him of his horrible condition.
This man was very talented. He knew how to make all sorts of things happen. He also knew a lot about dogs and the peculiar condition of not being able to control one's bladder without being hugged. And, of course, he knew the cure. So when the dog had spent some time on the island and peed on a few people's beds, this man decided to help the dog, mainly because he didn't like the smell of dog pee that pervaded the village in which he lived.
The dog came to the man's house one morning and sat patiently, waiting to be cured. Fortunately, the man acted quickly, and he did some things with medicine and physical therapy that eventually cured the dog of his strange bladder condition.
The dog was very happy about this cure. He wagged his tail a bunch and barked happily at people. Then he went onto the boat and grabbed a big purse that had a bunch of things that would be valuable to the people on the island. He gave the purse to the man who had cured him and barked again, then returned to the boat to go off on his next adventure, confident that he would be able to live without hugs from now on.
People still hugged him, though, because he was quite an adorable little dog, and this pleased him.
Showing posts with label challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label challenge. Show all posts
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
Daily Story 7 - Mr. Scooter's Funeral
(This one is dedicated to my super slick ride.)
Mr. Scooter was a very fine scooter. He scooted along with great scooting skill, and he scooted with the passion of his family's dedication to the fine art of scooting. But then one day he committed suicide by scooting in front of a speeding bus.
Many people were sad. Many people were also confused, because they had no idea how a scooter could possibly commit suicide, nor were they sure how the scooter had been alive to begin with. It was a very complicated issue.
He had a funeral with many people in attendance. Some cried. Some wailed. Some mourned in silence. Some became so enraged that they had to be restrained and taken out of the building. Others simply watched the event and wondered why an inanimate object was being treated like a real person.
They played sad music at Mr. Scooter's funeral. It was very sad, especially for the people who were actually sad. For the people were confused, it wasn't quite so sad, but they still found it sad.
After dinner, which happened after the funeral, people went back to their lives, while the children of Mr. Scooter scooted along the streets with sad scoots, for they would always miss their beloved father. This, of course, confused a lot of people, because they weren't quite sure how these miniature scooters were able to scoot along by themselves. Or cry. Or have such big, sad eyes. Or be alive in general.
Nevertheless, Mr. Scooter's wife and children were all alive through the magic of magic, and while they continued to grieve for Mr. Scooter, they lived on, scooting with great scooting skill, and scooting with the passion of their family's dedication to the fine art of scooting. And so, they continued on with the tradition of scooting, all the while confusing many people.
Mr. Scooter was a very fine scooter. He scooted along with great scooting skill, and he scooted with the passion of his family's dedication to the fine art of scooting. But then one day he committed suicide by scooting in front of a speeding bus.
Many people were sad. Many people were also confused, because they had no idea how a scooter could possibly commit suicide, nor were they sure how the scooter had been alive to begin with. It was a very complicated issue.
He had a funeral with many people in attendance. Some cried. Some wailed. Some mourned in silence. Some became so enraged that they had to be restrained and taken out of the building. Others simply watched the event and wondered why an inanimate object was being treated like a real person.
They played sad music at Mr. Scooter's funeral. It was very sad, especially for the people who were actually sad. For the people were confused, it wasn't quite so sad, but they still found it sad.
After dinner, which happened after the funeral, people went back to their lives, while the children of Mr. Scooter scooted along the streets with sad scoots, for they would always miss their beloved father. This, of course, confused a lot of people, because they weren't quite sure how these miniature scooters were able to scoot along by themselves. Or cry. Or have such big, sad eyes. Or be alive in general.
Nevertheless, Mr. Scooter's wife and children were all alive through the magic of magic, and while they continued to grieve for Mr. Scooter, they lived on, scooting with great scooting skill, and scooting with the passion of their family's dedication to the fine art of scooting. And so, they continued on with the tradition of scooting, all the while confusing many people.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Daily Story 5 - Cat Poop
(This one is dedicated to my brother.)
Once upon a time there was a cat. He was a grey cat. His name was Gandhi. He liked to meow at people, and he liked to play. He was a big cat, and all his long fur made him look incredibly fat. He enjoyed life because he didn't have to worry about food or water. He had a warm home and his human didn't pester him with stupid prissy outfits or annoying cutesy voices. Yes, life was good in his little home in Munich.
However, there was something missing in his life. There was a treasure he'd been seeking, ever since he was a tiny little kitten with tiny little pawsies. No. Paws. He was not going to sink to the level of those pesky guests his human allowed into his home from time to time. He was a dignified cat, the pride of the apartment, even if he wasn't allowed out of his human's small room half the time...
Nevertheless, Gandhi was master of the house. There was no denying it. After all, if the humans tried to poison him with disgusting food, he could easily get revenge by having an 'accident' on the living room floor. Sure, he could avoid the mess by lurking near his commode, but what was the point in making things easy for the humans? No, he was certainly the one in charge.
Unfortunately, this was not enough to ease the uncertainty that gnawed at his mind day after day. He knew not where he could find that treasure he sought, only that it was somewhere out of reach. And so one morning, while his human was away, Gandhi left his warm and comfortable home to find what he was looking for.
He searched in the alleys, and he searched in the streets. He searched the U-Bahn, and he searched the S-Bahn. He searched through stores, and he searched through parks. He searched everywhere a cat could go, and he found nothing. Eventually he gave up and returned home. His human had not returned, so Gandhi decided to leave a message for him on the middle of the dining room floor before returning to the comfort of his bed.
His human was very baffled as to how Gandhi had managed to get out of his room and poop on the dining room floor when the door was shut just as tightly as it had been when he'd left.
(note: this was written when Gandhi was still alive. He passed away this January. :( )
Once upon a time there was a cat. He was a grey cat. His name was Gandhi. He liked to meow at people, and he liked to play. He was a big cat, and all his long fur made him look incredibly fat. He enjoyed life because he didn't have to worry about food or water. He had a warm home and his human didn't pester him with stupid prissy outfits or annoying cutesy voices. Yes, life was good in his little home in Munich.
However, there was something missing in his life. There was a treasure he'd been seeking, ever since he was a tiny little kitten with tiny little pawsies. No. Paws. He was not going to sink to the level of those pesky guests his human allowed into his home from time to time. He was a dignified cat, the pride of the apartment, even if he wasn't allowed out of his human's small room half the time...
Nevertheless, Gandhi was master of the house. There was no denying it. After all, if the humans tried to poison him with disgusting food, he could easily get revenge by having an 'accident' on the living room floor. Sure, he could avoid the mess by lurking near his commode, but what was the point in making things easy for the humans? No, he was certainly the one in charge.
Unfortunately, this was not enough to ease the uncertainty that gnawed at his mind day after day. He knew not where he could find that treasure he sought, only that it was somewhere out of reach. And so one morning, while his human was away, Gandhi left his warm and comfortable home to find what he was looking for.
He searched in the alleys, and he searched in the streets. He searched the U-Bahn, and he searched the S-Bahn. He searched through stores, and he searched through parks. He searched everywhere a cat could go, and he found nothing. Eventually he gave up and returned home. His human had not returned, so Gandhi decided to leave a message for him on the middle of the dining room floor before returning to the comfort of his bed.
His human was very baffled as to how Gandhi had managed to get out of his room and poop on the dining room floor when the door was shut just as tightly as it had been when he'd left.
(note: this was written when Gandhi was still alive. He passed away this January. :( )
Daily Story 3 - Three Friends
Three friends were hanging out at the bus stop, waiting for the bus to go to their music class. One of them, a 17-year-old named Jeff, wanted to light a cigarette, but he had no cigarettes, nor did he have a lighter. So he decided to go without. His friends hated the smell of smoke anyway.
His friend Susie decided to play the guitar. It was raining, but they were sitting on the bus stop's covered bench, so she pulled her guitar out of its case and started playing. She played a song about kittens and another song about death. Her cat had just had a litter of five kittens, and two of them had died. It was quite upsetting to Susie, because she had been working so hard to keep all of the kittens happy and healthy. According to the vet, however, the two that died had had problematic birth defects that had prevented their hearts from working the way they should. So Susie sang about her dead kittens, and she cried.
The third friend, a girl named Janie, cried as well. Her grandmother had just passed away and she was having other family troubles. She and her siblings just weren't getting along, her mother had recently lost her job, and her alienated father was refusing to pay child support.
Things weren't going well for any of the three friends. Jeff was struggling in school and he barely had time to hang out with his friends. What little time he did have was spent trying to keep Janie from becoming too depressed, which only stressed him out even more. He didn't give up on her, though. He wanted to see her smiling again, because when their group was happy, their time together was probably the best in the world.
The bus drove up and stopped in front of them. Susie put her guitar in its case, Janie wiped her tears away, and Jeff paid for their tickets. They sat together on the bus in silence, looking out the window as the bus drove through the city.
"Hey, look, it's a double rainbow," Janie pointed out after a while.
Susie groaned and braced herself for Jeff's inevitable response. Sure enough, Jeff grinned and exclaimed, "A double rainbow? Oh my God, what could it mean? Oh my GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!"
"Wow, Jeff, you're such a fucking loser," Susie said.
Janie laughed. It caught both Susie and Jeff by surprise, but they still smiled and laughed as well. After all, if Janie could laugh, then that meant they hadn't reached the point of no return. Things were going to get better.
Someday.
(Sometimes when I start writing a funny story, it turns serious all of a sudden. Like it did with this one. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an essay to write.)
His friend Susie decided to play the guitar. It was raining, but they were sitting on the bus stop's covered bench, so she pulled her guitar out of its case and started playing. She played a song about kittens and another song about death. Her cat had just had a litter of five kittens, and two of them had died. It was quite upsetting to Susie, because she had been working so hard to keep all of the kittens happy and healthy. According to the vet, however, the two that died had had problematic birth defects that had prevented their hearts from working the way they should. So Susie sang about her dead kittens, and she cried.
The third friend, a girl named Janie, cried as well. Her grandmother had just passed away and she was having other family troubles. She and her siblings just weren't getting along, her mother had recently lost her job, and her alienated father was refusing to pay child support.
Things weren't going well for any of the three friends. Jeff was struggling in school and he barely had time to hang out with his friends. What little time he did have was spent trying to keep Janie from becoming too depressed, which only stressed him out even more. He didn't give up on her, though. He wanted to see her smiling again, because when their group was happy, their time together was probably the best in the world.
The bus drove up and stopped in front of them. Susie put her guitar in its case, Janie wiped her tears away, and Jeff paid for their tickets. They sat together on the bus in silence, looking out the window as the bus drove through the city.
"Hey, look, it's a double rainbow," Janie pointed out after a while.
Susie groaned and braced herself for Jeff's inevitable response. Sure enough, Jeff grinned and exclaimed, "A double rainbow? Oh my God, what could it mean? Oh my GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!"
"Wow, Jeff, you're such a fucking loser," Susie said.
Janie laughed. It caught both Susie and Jeff by surprise, but they still smiled and laughed as well. After all, if Janie could laugh, then that meant they hadn't reached the point of no return. Things were going to get better.
Someday.
(Sometimes when I start writing a funny story, it turns serious all of a sudden. Like it did with this one. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an essay to write.)
Daily Story 2 - The Pretty Princess
Once upon a time there was a Pretty Princess. "I am a Pretty Princess," the Pretty Princess said one day. "I shall go off and do Pretty Princess things, for that is what Pretty Princesses do."
"But you have to go to Pretty Princess school today," his mother said. For this Pretty Princess was indeed a boy. Don't ask me how that works, because I don't have a goddamn clue. This Pretty Princess was still quite pretty, however, otherwise he wouldn't have been a Pretty Princess.
"Oh, all right," the Pretty Princess said with a sad voice. "I'll go to Pretty Princess school, but afterward I will do many Pretty Princess things."
The Pretty Princess went to school with a pretty pink princess dress and a pretty blue princess bow in his hair. He arrived at his classroom and sat down in his pretty white princess chair next to his best Pretty Princess friend, Susie.
"Oh, my, what a pretty pink princess dress you're wearing today!" Pretty Princess Susie exclaimed as she looked at her Pretty Princess friend.
"Thank you! And what a pretty yellow princess dress you're wearing today!" the Pretty Princess said.
Class began, and all the Pretty Princesses took their seats and listened to their Pretty Princess teacher. All the other Pretty Princesses were girls, because girls have vaginas and boys have penises, and all the other Pretty Princesses had vaginas. *But nobody noticed that the Pretty Princess was a boy, because Pretty Princesses never took their clothes off except to bathe in their private bathtubs where nobody else could see their external genitalia. That just wouldn't be proper for Pretty Princesses.
"I am going to throw a slumber party this evening," said the Pretty Princess once school was over. "And you are all invited!"
"Huzzah!" cried the other Pretty Princesses, and they all scurried home to make themselves proper for a Pretty Princess slumber party.
The Pretty Princess was very happy because all his Pretty Princess friends enjoyed the slumber party. They did many Pretty Princess things and didn't go to sleep until late at night, when they finally changed into their pretty rainbow princess pajamas and went to bed. The Pretty Princess snuggled happily under the covers of his pretty pink princess bed covers. Today was a good day, he thought. Oh, how I love being a Pretty Princess.
Daily Story 1 - Timmy the Football
Timmy the Football did not like being kicked around.
He wasn't always a football, though. He used to be a squirrel, but he got into an argument with a squirrel. It was a different squirrel. It wasn't Timmy. He didn't argue with himself. Much.
So he got magically turned into a football. Because that other squirrel was mean.
So Timmy was a football now. All the kids at the school used him when they played after school, during gym, at recess, and during football practice. One kid named Joey had found Timmy in a magical forest in the library.
The school had some strange things going on inside.
The student had hugged Timmy and brought him to his gym teacher. The gym teacher knew that Timmy had been a squirrel but he didn't care. They needed a football at the school. So Timmy was put in the equipment room.
Joey didn't like to play football before he found Timmy. Joey liked football after he found Timmy, though. He played with Timmy all the time. Timmy was losing his brain with all the games kids played with him. But Joey was gentle. Joey didn't throw Timmy around so hard. When they finished playing football after school, Joey would stay late to have tea parties with Timmy. Timmy couldn't drink the tea because he was a football. He just sat there while Joey splashed tea on him. Joey would wash the tea off of Timmy before he went home, because Joey was polite and well-mannered and he took care of his things.
One day the kids were playing with Timmy and someone kicked him over the fence. Timmy got run over by a truck. Now he was Timmy the Flattened Football. It didn't hurt because he was a football. None of the kids wanted to play with him anymore, so Joey took him home and put him in a dress. Joey thought the dress looked very pretty on Timmy.
From that point on, Timmy sat on Joey's dresser and thought about the meaning of life. He didn't have any major epiphanies, though. He was a flattened football with major brain damage who had once been a squirrel.
He wasn't always a football, though. He used to be a squirrel, but he got into an argument with a squirrel. It was a different squirrel. It wasn't Timmy. He didn't argue with himself. Much.
So he got magically turned into a football. Because that other squirrel was mean.
So Timmy was a football now. All the kids at the school used him when they played after school, during gym, at recess, and during football practice. One kid named Joey had found Timmy in a magical forest in the library.
The school had some strange things going on inside.
The student had hugged Timmy and brought him to his gym teacher. The gym teacher knew that Timmy had been a squirrel but he didn't care. They needed a football at the school. So Timmy was put in the equipment room.
Joey didn't like to play football before he found Timmy. Joey liked football after he found Timmy, though. He played with Timmy all the time. Timmy was losing his brain with all the games kids played with him. But Joey was gentle. Joey didn't throw Timmy around so hard. When they finished playing football after school, Joey would stay late to have tea parties with Timmy. Timmy couldn't drink the tea because he was a football. He just sat there while Joey splashed tea on him. Joey would wash the tea off of Timmy before he went home, because Joey was polite and well-mannered and he took care of his things.
One day the kids were playing with Timmy and someone kicked him over the fence. Timmy got run over by a truck. Now he was Timmy the Flattened Football. It didn't hurt because he was a football. None of the kids wanted to play with him anymore, so Joey took him home and put him in a dress. Joey thought the dress looked very pretty on Timmy.
From that point on, Timmy sat on Joey's dresser and thought about the meaning of life. He didn't have any major epiphanies, though. He was a flattened football with major brain damage who had once been a squirrel.
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