Monthly Archives: June 2015

Trials of the Dreaded Underwriter

Today my wife and I closed on our house. It is not the first house I have owned but it was by far the most difficult to close. Not for financial reasons but because of the towering mountains of legal voodoo magic you must conjure up to get the approval. Continue reading

Flash Fiction Challenge: Crash My Party

So here I go again. I am attempting my second Flash Fiction Challenge by Chuck Wendig.

It is a 1000 word challenge requiring to write a story about a random song title. I opened Pandora and figured whatever song first came up was what I would use. Crash My Party by Luke Bryan. Didn’t realize I last listened to my country channel but oh well. This should be interesting. The challenge doesn’t require you to use the song title, merely use it as inspiration for the story. Needless to say my story is nothing like the song.

What did I learn? a 1000 word limit sucks! I was at 1108 and cut it down to 1000 words exactly! Lost some of the description but the story is intact. Anyway, here it is

Continue reading

Sticks, Stones, and Symbols

Sit back, grab a whiskey, and enjoy my rant.

I have long lived by a nursery rhyme I learned as a kid. Most people know it, perhaps not children these days, but the current “adults” of the world have at least heard it.

“Stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Continue reading

Thank you for holding. My customers are important to me

   Over one and a half hours of grueling torment of “I am important to you” messages and the nauseating loop of Muzak I was ready to snap. I found myself glaring at the phone, daggers erupting from my eyes, tunneling through hundreds of miles of fiber optic cable to find a human on the other end, any poor wretched soul who was unlucky enough to be the target of my Tomahawk missile of righteous fury. Continue reading

Reminders of Respect

Oh how I dreaded the days of corporal punishment in school. Every teacher had a paddle and none were afraid to use it on unruly children. Some teachers painted their wooden torture instruments red. I always assumed this was to hide any evidence of blood from the legendary paddlings that everyone knew and feared. A few teachers would display their paddles, more akin to a boat oar than anything else, as a warning to be on your best behavior. The teachers that everyone feared the most were the few that named their paddles. Dreadful names like “Punisher” and “Equilizer” emblazoned in bright letters, carved lovingly into the handles were whispered to younger kids on the playground. Of course every school also has the one teacher that is rumored to be the spawn of twelve demons, for why other than sadistic joy would an educator drill holes into the paddle! Increasing the air flow to allow maximum velocity as it strikes your rear, increasing the agony tremendously. Continue reading


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this is... The Neighborhood

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