Tag Archives: Humor

The Owl Knows

Last week, I got accepted into an actual university. It isn’t a community college or trade school but an actual four-year university with a football team and obnoxious mascots. I bet if I asked around I could even find underground hazing rituals. Ever since I applied I’ve been anticipating its arrival like a Golden Ticket. I only applied a few months ago but I feel like I had been waiting for that Charlie and The Chocolate Factory moment since the day I graduated high school two years ago.

Back then the plan had been to go to a community college, get my basics done and then transfer to a university, but I have always wondered if I made the right decision. As stupid as it may seem, seeing the college adventures of former classmates on Facebook drives a sword of regret piercing through my heart, twisting each time someone posts an obscure collegiate music event. Maybe I made the wrong choice and I convinced myself that I was making the smart decision when in reality I was just scared of the future. Scared of the unknown and yet to be discovered. Even now the thought of it still makes my heart race and my breathing become labored and strenuous because the worse that letter could say was “no” and that “no” would seemingly seal my future in this cesspool of a town. Continue reading →

Born in the U.S.A.: The Sequel

This is the sequel to the Independence Day Special “Born In the U.S.A.. You can find that by clicking right here!

It was later in the day now and after endless bouts of going inside and outside to back inside I had officially had enough of the mosquitoes. I could already pass as someone with chicken pox and I was beginning to worry if I would have any blood left after this incessant holiday. I rejoined my allies at the kitchen windows.

We were like spectators at a zoo watching the children swim in the water.

Earlier before our journey into the outdoors, our scantily clad guests had wandered upstairs to change and we each gave each-other a look that, in-turn, assured us that our thoughts were in the same place. After noticing how the girl seems to walk on her tip toes, someone suggested that if she had relaxed on her feet, the shear force of how high her shorts were pulled would either A.) rupture her clitoris and create an elevator-from-the-Shining-esque mess of blood or B.) split her in half altogether. Either way, I would be stuck cleaning it up and it would be icing on the patriot cake on my least favorite day of the year. Continue reading →

We Don’t Need No Education

While registering for the summer semester someone told me I should sign up for a physical class to get out more and meet new people, which sounds horrible. I don’t want to intermingle. If I was Tom Hanks in Castaway, I would not have ever left and Wilson would have been turned into a funky hat or canteen. It would have been a really boring movie. I crash. I get to the island. I go full Swiss Family Robinson and retire at 19. It would have been very anticlimactic. I’ve seen enough Naked and Afraid to know how to live out there. I would be Naked and Having an Alright Time. Someone get the Discovery Channel on the phone.

Yet there I was at 4:30 humming along the freeway in my car. Off to mingle with other twenty-somethings and talk about Instabook or Facegram and how my sweater was gluten-free-range from local farmers. The thought made my heart race and small beads of sweat form above my eyebrows. This was my nightmare. I looked down over my outfit. It was pretty trendy. It was a bright blue dress with geometric cuts strategically placed along my chest and a square, strappy neckline. Very Modern. Continue reading →

Born in the U.S.A.

Back from my holiday hiatus! I’ll be writing about America’s birthday in two parts.

It’s the 4th of July what a day it is. Full of fireworks and the aroma of succulent lips and assholes ground into sludge and packed into a phallus fill the air and they spittle and crackle on open flames. It is a day where we celebrate what makes our country wonderful and we celebrate the day that our country rose up and said “we don’t need no man”. A day where family and friends celebrate their freedom by doing keg stands and mosquitoes feast like the very kings we fought to reject.

Most of all, it is a day for the children with their face stained red and blue from the endless patriotic confections and treats. The children who look forward to the risk of blowing off limbs and appendages with great rockets of fire and spark. Innocent games of football and chicken can be seen all along the shoreline as I looked out onto the great sea that will soon sport a sunset. Then the festivities would begin as stars are replaced by blooms of colored flame. Magical.

Until then there I was sitting  in the kitchen as the only twenty-something at the party, avoiding all questions of college and future plans. If one more person asked me what I have been up to I was going to start my own firework finale right there aimed at their open nonsense holes. What did they want me to say? That I’ve been raising llamas in my panty drawer? That I had been giving out free tattoos to children in Africa? That I had been selling my own blood to fetishists in Kazakhstan? I just binge-watched “Orange is the New Black” for three days on netflix. Is that pleasing? It was for me. Continue reading →

Hall and Oatmeal

Ah, breakfast. The meal where we break our fast of the night and welcome the new day with foods that we’ve cruelly segregated from the others. A virtual farmyard of foods ranging from the stolen eggs of chickens to the belly of Babe’s mother and possibly the rest of his long lost family. To be honest, you shouldn’t feel bad about that. The rest of those piglets ended up as right jerks. I saw one kick a pigeon once. Just punted it right across the sidewalk. It really caused a scene at the annual Christmas festival that year. Especially since it was right in front of the line for Santa. Also because his family is just genetically delicious or so I’m told.

Breakfast is also a time where one can enjoy the fruits that an underpaid worker probably tended with his own hands. You can almost taste the civil injustice with every sip of my tropical smoothie.
A wonderful concoction of banana and mangoes did I crave as I awoke this morning with bright eyes full of wonderment. Oh happy day! I practically floated into my kitchen and dramatically threw open the cabinet to retrieve my peacock print smoothie cup. A beautiful cup for a beautiful assortment of vitamin c and potassium rich fruits.

I set it aside and prepared myself for the unveiling of the contents of my freezer. With a smile I opened the freezer door to happiness and looked upon my prized smoothie shelf.

Nothing. Continue reading →

7 a.m. waking up in the morning. Gotta have my bowl but cereal makes me nauseous.

What a wonderful era we live in to be able to see a doctor that won’t go through your organs with waste covered hands. An era of medical breakthroughs and being able to find out exactly why your Aunt Martha smells like maple syrup after she eats creamed corn. What a world we live in to be able to give butter faces a fighting chance and to permanently freeze a look of childlike wonder on the face of someones aged grandmother. We can even remove enormous uteri to put photos of on the internet for imaginary points and approval. Let’s just admit it, America, we have it pretty good.

Pretty good, indeed. Until some cantankerous nurse decides to move your appointment to 7 a.m. on a monday morning. I’m not sure what about my persona gave her the assumption of “early-riser” or “morning person” when she was playing chinese checkers with appointment times. Maybe it was the dark circles under my eyes or the way my I wear a blazer. I will never know her reasoning and not even Robert Downey Jr. as Sherlock Holmes could decode it, but damn would he look good trying.

Either way, there I was, driving along empty streets at 6:30 a.m., smoothie in hand, wondering if I really needed to see a doctor. I should have just craigslisted a witch doctor to rub eggs and squirrel tails on me while singing the national anthem of Saudi Arabia in B flat. At least then it would probably be around 4 and I’d at least get a free squirrel tail. Continue reading →

Not Today

There is something magical about summer. New light shimmers on fresh dew as the birds wake with the rising sun. Already at 7:30 am the light is filtered through the trees casting little diamonds on my driveway as I toss my purse in my car. There’s some kind of magic in the air. So much so that it’s almost tangible on my skin.

“Today is going to be a good day”, I think to myself as I sip on my smoothie of the day and buckle in. My my head hits the roof of the car and I sigh.

“This is why we can’t have good hair days”. I put the car in reverse and the small indent where the pavement of the road meets my drive rocks the car, sending my hula dancer into a rhythm and rubbing my head into the fabric of the roof more and generating even more static, but it’s not going to ruin my day as I remind myself what’s ahead of the drive. I continue pulling out of the driveway and onto my street, running my hand over my face to brush away any remains of sleep. As I open my eyes and switch to drive I glance at that decrepit old house on the corner. It reminds me of a gingerbread house that was left inside an ant hill. A rather bulbous skunk snakes its way along its splintering walls and disappears into a crevice that I would have never guessed it would fit into had I not seen it with my own eyes. As I pass the house, its stench burns my nose and I switch my febreeze car freshener to full blast on my air-vents. Not today, skunk.

Not today. Continue reading →

Polly Doesn’t Want A Cracker

Thanks for coming back to the second part of my Intro to Polly! Follow and share if you liked it! Feel free to comment on what you want to see talked about or what kind of story you want me to tell next.

Every great office comedy has an eccentric nutcase that we all can’t help but fall in love with despite their shortcomings. Jim Halpert has his Dwight Schrute. Peter Gibbons has his Milton Waddams. Hell, the whole cast of Workaholics has the whole cast of Workaholics. There’s always at least one in each ensemble that forces you to question what you would do such a situation.

I know exactly what you should do in that situation.

Run. Don’t stop. Just run. Don’t think of the children and go back or think you absolutely need your phone that you left on your desk. You don’t need it and maybe those kids should have tried a little harder in gym. Perhaps then they would have some scrap of a chance at survival. What the movies want you to think is that there is a lovable innocence underneath that quirky exterior. But what if there is no innocence? What if underneath that exoskeleton of broken dreams and filth film theres just evil and cynicism? Like an oyster filled with excrement.

This is Polly. Continue reading →

The Birds Never Came

Every morning I wake up and throw a smoothie in the blender while I’m getting dressed. Why? Because it’s delicious and I think blueberries are a delight. It’s 7:00 and I’m just shuffling like a three legged horse in need to be put down. It’s a cruel cruel joke to be up that early. I used to wake up at 5:00 am before I realized that I was an idiot. I’m not a farmer. I don’t need to wake up that early. My ancestors fought to survive and it’s like a slap in the face to them to wake up that early. Hey, I don’t need to forage. I make my smoothies in sweet little zip-locks ahead of time. There is zero scrambling about and that’s great! It’s simplicity! You see people on TV rushing about and serving some sort of brunch nonsense. Why? No one needs a kale garnish at 7am. It’s just silly.

I throw on the basic uniform. Dress, belt, Cardigan, Ellen Degeneres Boxer Briefs. There is a reason to this madness and it begins with the dress. If you ever see me in jeans, call the police because something horrible is happening and I’ve finally snapped. Continue reading →