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Episodes
- There will be peace when the Gnomes love their children more than they hate us
(1mb)
Thu, 08 Jan 2009 14:07:12 -0600In the nursery, we keep it simple: babies coming in equals babies going out.
Come up short, and security checks the tapes before ?Stolen Baby? makes the evening news.
But when we come up with extra, that?s worse.
"Damn those Gnomes," said Nurse Riley. "They sneak their agents into nurseries to infiltrate our species."
This giggling, squirming lump in a standard-issue diaper is no child.
Riley pointed out the beard-stubble and bright red shaving rash.
The look in her eyes: sadness and horror.
I signed the authorization. Quarantine, then furnace termination.
They don't scream, even while burning.
Damn this war.
- Skin Contract (1mb)
Wed, 07 Jan 2009 13:33:07 -0600Awake at 4. Itching, scratching.
The rashes are unbearable.
One more week until my skin contract?s up.
The free ones are nothing compared to expensive designer skins, but with the contract, you get a discount on those.
I look in the mirror. Hideous bags under my eyes, wrinkles like canyons across my face.
And rashes.Last time, I cheaped out. Ever since, it's been dermatologist appointments and oceans of cosmetics.
Yak butter creams? Tungsten wire therapy?
I won't make that mistake again.
I put on my happy-face, the porcelain doll-mask with the vacant, vapid stare, and head to the kitchen.
Thank you for the idea, Nexeus Fatale.
- Belt (1mb)
Tue, 06 Jan 2009 23:12:21 -0600I could not find my belt this morning.
It was not where I had left it - wrapped around my neck.
My belt is usually on yesterday's pants, but I didn't wear pants yesterday. So I wrapped it around my neck and went to sleep.
When I woke up, it was gone.
I only own one belt. It's a black belt, so it goes with everything.
Maybe I will go buy another belt? I should buy two, but in all my life, I only own one belt at a time.
Because I only have one neck to wrap it around
- Sandpaper Carpet (1mb)
Mon, 05 Jan 2009 23:31:56 -0600We ripped up the carpet and put down sandpaper.
It's easy to vacuum now. And I get great traction.
It's a weird feeling to walk across it with my bare feet. It's kind of like walking on the beach.
The worst part is when I spill something on it. What a mess.
The cat hates it. She leaps across the seats and tables, runs across the sofa and uses the bookshelves to get to the tile floor in the kitchen.
Anything to avoid the sandpaper.
If the cat could climb across the ceiling with her claws, she would.
Silly cat.
- Perfect Potatoes (1mb)
Sun, 04 Jan 2009 19:03:21 -0600The potatoes are perfect?
Good. I'm glad you like them
You know, I always kept things in the oven just a little too long.
So, I had the temperature turned down just little on the oven.
Things turn out just right now.
I could have just set the timer a little quicker, but I'm such a stickler for time.
Fifteen minutes is fifteen minutes. You can measure it with a clock or by counting.
But temperature? Can you really tell the difference between three hundred and fifty degrees and three hundred and forty degrees?
Thought so.
So, want more potatoes?
- Weekly Challenge #142 - Double Dipped (1mb)
Sat, 03 Jan 2009 19:31:15 -0600The 100 word stories weekly challenge is where I post a topic and then you write and record a story based on that topic.
Sounds simple, doesn't it?
Topics are selected by the winner of the previous weekly challenge. This week reveals Double Dipped.
You have until midnight on Friday January 9nd to get the following in my hot little hands:
- The text of your story so I can post it on the site. Just post the text of the story in the body of your email message. Do not put it in Word, Word Perfect, Sun Office, or any other document format. Just copy-paste the text into the body of the message. This will save me the hassle of firing off another program to read it and it will reduce the chances that gmail will flag your message as Spam.
- If you have a blog, podcast, or other site that people can go to so they can learn more about your handiwork, the URL would be appreciated.
- What you would like the topic of Weekly Challenge #143 to be. Failure to send in a topic with your selection will mean that if you win, whoever is in second place will be considered for the topic, and so on.
- A recording of your story in .mp3 format. Please use your name as the filename if you can, okay? Makes it easier to produce the show quickly.
If you do not feel like recording a story for the podcast, well, go ahead and send the story in anyway. I'll include it in the show notes, but it won't be eligible for choosing the topic or winning the magnets.
Send the stories to isfullofcrap (at) gmail.com and then add a comment here saying you've sent it in.
Once all the stories are in, I'll assemble them into a single podcast collection for your enjoyment.
Good luck, and feel free to e-mail me with any questions you have.
Hear y'all in a week, and as always, keep it brief.
- Weekly Challenge #141 - Thumpin (10mb)
Sat, 03 Jan 2009 12:44:57 -0600Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Forty-One where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was... was.... um...
It's a combination of: Thumpin
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):
Anima
Hey man, can joo help me? I need a thumpin?
A thumping? Are you sure?
Si! A thumpin! I wanna? Ai ai ai! What was dat for? Why joo hit me?
You said you wanted a thumping. I grew up with 3 older brothers, so I'm always glad to administer a well placed thump, 'sides, you practically begged me for it.
Joo is crazy. I need a THUM-PIN! Joo know, de pointy ting to stick up notícias! So I can sell a guitarra.
Ah! What you want is a thumbtack Sorry José. Just take one from these flyers over here.
Justin
Above and below the neighbors were loud. A rumbling bass below, heavy thumps above. I bought the seeds from an old crone at the Saturday market. I planted one in two different pots. I put skin flakes in the soil. Drops of blood went in the water. When the plants were a foot tall, I pushed some discarded human teeth wrapped in human hair to the roots and watered the plant with pure blood. I gave one to each of the noisy neighbors. The plants flourished overnight. In the morning, I heard some short screams, then nothing. Finally, some quiet.
Tom
At the Northwest pillar of the Eiffel Tower is the only public toilet within a quarter mile radius. While waiting for my traveling companion a woman dress in vaguely arab attire approved me asking in halted English if I was an American. She opens a fold piece of paper I note the phrase ?no money is six month? and ?child with Leukemia?. I open my wallet all I got are 50s and 5s. As I hand her one moving at me from my far right a second women open a fold piece of paper will even sadder tale. I reach in pull out a second five and tell her she better not have a third sister.
Caleb
Another night and Bambi couldn?t sleep because Thumper was thumpin? again. Bambi understood that Thumper was a rabbit but they were still in their Freshman year of college and Thumper already had 72 kids. How could Bambi ever take any doe back to their dorm with all those kids running around and thumper thumping all the time like that? Eventually he snapped. The lack of sleep, the pressure, the unresolved mother issues all collapsed onto him at once so he took a rifle up to the bell tower Nobody could understand it, Bambi had always been such a dear.
Snipe
The Hamper kids had always been inseparable. So when Bumpin had the bright idea to knock over the local bank, he knew Bouncin, Thumpin and Grindin would be along for the ride. Everything went smoothly until the getaway, when it all went wrong. Thumpin jumped on the bumper of the accelerating car. An eager deputy got off an unlucky shot, and Thumpin went down. The car screeched to a halt. His brothers walked back, and stood by while the paramedics worked. Then the three went to a shared cell, and Thumpin was alone for the first time in his life.
Norval Joe
Wolf-guards sat on each side of the stockade door, squatting like gargoyles. Large wolves heads rested on the knees of the oversized humanoid bodies where they crouched. Through the darkness lambada, the half-orc, crept, step by step, slowly, between the guards. Their eyes shut, nostrils flaring, searching for the scent of humans. With the strength of an orc and the agility of a human he silently picked the lock and eased the door open. Through the gloom, he found the form of the outlaw leader. It was a woman's form. Lambada lisped under his breath, "Me think thumpin not right."
Ashley
Sylvester had always been the laughing stock of Fairhaven. Someone would tell him a story and his reply would always be, ?Ain?t that thumpin,? which brought great laughter from the locals. Sylvester took it with a smile.
One day, a ticket bought locally hit the Powerball jackpot. Sylvester dropped out of sight shortly thereafter.
Due to the economy and mismanagement of funds, the town went belly-up. Fairhaven was later purchased by a mysterious financier at bankruptcy court.
One week later, all the residents were evicted and the town razed. ?Now ain?t that really thumpin,? said Sylvester with a huge smile.
Jeffrey
"Thumpin." "That's not my name." "Whatever, just get over here." "My name is not Thumpin." "I heard you. Just get over here, and bring that stool." "Not until you get my name right. I'm the proud son of great dwarf the people we've been here for thousands of years." "Yeah, I've heard it before. But right now I'm the queen and well you are not. So get over here Thumbkin son of Thorkin servant of my older brother, and bring that stool so I can rest my feet."
Guy David
It was a party like no other. You had to wear a black tie and drink your martini, but the rest of your clothes... those you would often take off during an evening of a-humpin' and a-thumpin'. The party would then turn into a mess of arms and legs, intertwined in an imbroglio of ecstatic people. No one would notice as the floor would slowly rise and the beast that dwells in the ceiling would swallow the whole mess, then spit everyone out again, laughing. That's when the party at The Black Tie Martini Club would really begin.
Planet Z
Satchmo died on a Monday, we bury him on Sunday.
No preacher for the service, no band.
Just Coffin Jack Thumper.
He starts with a few taps, a few slaps.
Bang! Bam! Slam!
The lid flies open.
Bam bam bam!
He's pounding the wood so hard, the body's shaking... Leaping up... Dancing to the
beat.The floor shakes. The rafters sway.
Thumper's got Satchmo dancin one last time.
Hallelujah!
- The Forest Of Fourteen Trees (1mb)
Fri, 02 Jan 2009 09:00:23 -0600Once upon a time, this was a vast forest, with trees as far as the eye could see.
Now, there are only fourteen trees, crowded together in a housing subdivision.
We, the elves of the forest, once frolicked and hunted. Now, we argue over pizza toppings and order delivery.
It's not easy, clinging to the past when the future has clearly defeated it, but we are forest elves, and we can no more abandon them as a fish can leave the water.
The government calls us an endangered species, but the gnomes were, too.
They're gone now, and soon, us.
- Stuffed (1mb)
Thu, 01 Jan 2009 20:41:18 -0600It's just a simple fact of life.
You can stuff a chicken.
You can stuff a bra.
You can stuff a bra in a chicken.
You can stuff a chicken in a bra.
Those awful cookbooks and fashion magazines ? I blame them all!
It's unhealthy! It's unsanitary! It's unamerican!
It used to be you'd just see this on the news from savage places like Belugastan or the North Indies.
Now, you see it all over the mall. These damn crazy kids with their tattoos, piercings, and poultry-filled undergarments!
The world has gone to Hell.
- Old School (1mb)
Wed, 31 Dec 2008 23:11:44 -0600We're at the bar, watching the ball drop in Times Square.
?I still write last year on my checks,? I say. ?I always do.?
She puts her drink down. ?You still write checks?? she asks. ?No online bill payment??
?I like the feel of writing a check,? I said. ?Pointing and clicking doesn't feel the same."
?What about credit cards??
?Nope. I'm really old school.?
She laughed, signed for her tab, and left.
I asked for my tab.
?Two chickens, Bill,? said the bartender.
I handed over the cage.
Old school.
