A Spider & A Woman.

The anger overwhelmed her as a spider in a hall, clinging to its victim here, a cat without a ball. The ball had rolled away and though the cat was having fun, it didn't see the spider hang, it did not stop its run. The cat was ever eager to chase his little ball away. The spider felt unused to all of this new bob and sway. The cat began a roll and 8 legs could surely not resist, the weight of rolling ball and cat, now broke its 8 black wrists. Anger overwhelmed the spider and it flailed about. Broken wrists of 8 legs madly flailed like 8 bass trout. The message here is anger from circumstances unfortunate, but none of it justifies action that becomes extortionate. People rarely recognize the troubles that they cause, but this woman she should sympathize and perhaps give a new pause.

How I Destroyed My Best Friend's Marriage.

The man I refer to as my brother called me the best man at his wedding.

I guess I shouldn't have volunteered his wife to the experiment. The society wanted a perpetual motion machine so bad, they would do anything. I didn't realize the danger until it was too late.

It started on a smoky summer day. Forest fires raged near town, and the wind carried the acrid smoke across the valley floor. Near the river, bears were hanging their catches to preserve the flesh. Only I knew who had lit those fires. Only I can prevent forest fires my ass, Smokey. You're the freakin' arsonists. I digress.

My friend's wife stomped across the living room in a panic to get a Pepsi. Pepsi panics are the worst. I pulled the lever by the fireplace, and she went down the slide. Well, she nearly went down the slide, the edge of the floor caught her by the waistband. There she hung like a bat with insomnia, swaying with eyes like pancakes.

I jumped up, and with a swift whirl of my computer chair, freed her from her entrapment, and gravity once more had its way with her.

A moment later, I clambered down the slide, as a golem in the night. The floor returned to its natural state.

The society was not pleased. In my haste to complete their requested task, I had failed to understand that they only craved a lock of hair from an angry female, and not the delivery of an unconscious female.

I attached the hook to her waistband, and reeled her back up the slide.

The unfortunate effect was, however, that she was evermore angry. This made getting a lock of an angry female's hair relatively easy, but made my friend's marriage the more difficult to sustain.

I destroyed my best friend's marriage.

At least we achieved perpetual motion?

Carbon Dioxide Is To Bubbles As I Am To...

The pills and the woman, or the prize.

That might have been my choice, were we not both so unfamiliar. Life could only have been a haze in those days.

Nostalgia. Unchanged. Boo hoo.

Looking at the ID bracelet on my wrist, I feign to remember what the prize might be.

Right, the woman.

Then what were the pills?

My Request to my Friend's Sister-In-Law

Determine how to make cat cheese, including the milking process. I want simple but anatomically correct diagrams laying out at least 10 steps. Draft an agreement for the cooperation of the SPCA, then make a business plan and a bank loan application. I will grade your work when I get home. Less than 80% will be considered a fail.

Don't Burn Any.

Flames licked the sky, the reflection echoed in the flowing waters below. It was an eerie scene which sent my thoughts to ancient times; of vikings and burning boats.

The old one lane bridge had a weight rating posted at either end, but that became moot as timbers began breaking away under the intense heat.

I took a cautious glance at Skrimpf. He was beaming. Clearly getting him out of the house was an improvement, but this wasn't what I had in mind. Not even close.

I picked up the case of tequila and pitched it at the fire, only to learn how truly flammable that shit is. Hair singed and in a panic, I returned to our little group. Who's idea was this!?

Skrimpf's sister in law lowered her eyes in shame, his wife looked off into space.

"That's it, I'm going home," I exclaimed.

Freaking pyromaniacs.

They say, "the hardest thing in life is knowing which bridge to cross and which to burn." Such bullshit.

For The Lack Of Cheezies, The War Was Lost.

I reached in the bowl for another cheezy, and found nothing but orange dust. Up! I hoisted my lazy ass off the couch and navigated my way to the treat cupboard, where I found nothing, except for a granola bar. I wasn't even sure it was mine.

"BAH!"

I shouted at the cupboard. The blast of power was too much for its particle-board structure, and it erupted into a flurry of fine dust.

I returned to my cheezy bowl, licked my finger, and tried to wipe up some cheezy dust to consume. It tasted dry, too dry. I looked down and saw that now not only did the bowl contain cheezy dust, but particle board dust too.

Tears welled in my eyes, and I sat down, defeated.

My life is ruined.

Happy Hippity Hop Hype.

The rottweiler twitched twice, and was awake.

The ground around it was littered in cotton. If dogs can have dreams, this one just had the best doggone dog dream in the history of dogdom or dogma.

That was a decade ago.

I didn't think I'd wake to the same situation.

The bunnies were so tasty.