Tag Archives: Funny

Ab-solutely

Title: Ab-solutely

Genre: Paranormal Action/Romance

Rating: PG-13

Thoughts: This is the beginning of something that might turn into a novella.  I’m still writing it but there’s no way the whole thing is getting put up here.  I’m not even done writing it!

——-

Dallas pushed her hair out of her face and sighed, those six steps up to the door of her building loomed like something ultra menacing after a little too much sake.  Her too-heavy pumps scraped on the sidewalk as she put a hand heavily on the rail and pulled herself up one slow step at a time.

Someone whistled behind her, “Gee Dallas, what are we so dressed up for tonight?”

Relief and a wave of self-conscious nerves swept through her.  Just Cai.  Just Cai?  Pft, he was dreamy-eyed-hottness-Cai that lived next door.  Dallas chuckled and took another step as Cai, in all his sleepy good looks, took those six steps in two bounds.  “Blind date,” she grimaced.

“That good?”  Cai pulled the frosted glass door open for her and waited for Dallas to get her act through it.

“Oh yeah,” she rolled her eyes, “It was terrific, right up to the point he threw a spring roll at me.  And have I ever mentioned I don’t like fish?  It was like a head-on-collision from the beginning.”

Cai smiled and watched Dallas in all of her carefulness; if she needed a hand he was there to give a hand, but it also gave him one of those rare moments to just watch her.  She had indeed dressed up for the date; he was fairly certain from the smell of department-store-new Dallas had even spent the afternoon shopping.  That was unlike her.  She didn’t like shopping.  But Cai was glad for the indulgence if all it gave him was this moment of watching her slink up the stairs in a little black dress.

Dallas waivered at the top of the stairs on her heels, something else Cai noticed that was an additional surprise.  Dallas was a flipflops kind of girl.  Cai decided to pretend his minute observations of his neighbor were nothing more than good awareness skills, but did he know half as much about Mrs. Shoester across the hallway?  Nope.  Not one bit.

“Let me give you a hand,” Cai smiled and took her elbow.

She kept her eyes firmly on the ground for two reasons; one, she needed to know where her feet were going and two, not looking at him made her not blush.  Oh, she could go on any number of blind dates her married co-workers set her up on, but the dreamy neighbor was off limits according to her personal rules.  He knew where she lived.  He probably knew a lot of her habits.  And he knew her real hair color.  He might have forgotten the blonde who moved in, but it wasn’t a far stretch to the raven tresses that stretched down her back now.

“I’m good, I’m just tired.”  Her heels made slow staccato sounds on the floor as they walked the short way to her first floor apartment.

“Oh, I know that,” Cai grinned, “I just wanted an excuse to escort a pretty girl.”

Insert one of those awkward moments Cai loved to create where Dallas’ stomach did somersaults and she had no idea how to reply.  Instead Dallas fished for her keys in her purse.

“So the guy really threw a spring roll at you?”  Cai released her arm and leaned up against the doorframe.

Dallas had never been able to quite decide how old Cai was, but she’d settled for something around her own age.  He was just a little bit taller than her, so wearing the heels she was just a smidge taller than him.  Cai looked like a posterboy for what Dallas thought a skateborder should look like; she didn’t know if Cai skateboarded, but he looked like he should.  Dark, almost black-brown hair was in a perpetual state of shag, he often sported stubble or a few days worth of beard.  Caramel colored eyes that sometimes looked amber depending on the light.  Dallas had never seen him without his shirt on, but under the slightly loose, well fitted clothing he seemed capable of finding anywhere, she imagined him with a lean, flexible body.

“Huh?”  Dallas looked up from her purse, dragging her mind back from contemplating Cai’s abs to realize she’d missed a crucial part of their conversation.

“The spring roll?”  He prompted.

Wincing, Dallas nodded.  “He didn’t exactly throw it at me.  We started talking about immigration laws and he was gesturing with his chopsticks and,” she made a sailing motion and splayed her hand on the flat of her chest, and made a gurgling noise as if attack-by-spring-roll were deadly combat.

Cai laughed and crossed his arms over his chest.  He also had the obnoxious decency to appear to be a genuinely good guy.  “Where do you come up with these guys?”

She bought herself a moment by slipping the first lock into place and twisting it.  Four more to go.  Overkill?  Maybe, but a girls home was her castle and Dallas believed in a good bit of security.  “My co-workers,” she sighed.  “They think I need to date more.  They’re all in possession of wonderfully, perfect marital bliss and want to share the kool-aide.”  She pushed her door open and flipped on the lights, instinctively looking around to see if anything was out of place first.  Even in her slightly inebriated state there were just some things she did no matter what.

Groaning, Cai pushed off of the door and stretched.  “Do I know the type!”

Turning, Dallas grabbed the door and leaned against it, entertaining a five second fantasy about those abs again.  “Tell me about it.  At least tomorrow is Saturday.  Are you going to be here for Aaron’s party?”

Cai grimaced.  Aaron was in mid mid-twentys and just starting college on a trust fund.  He liked to have loud parties on the weekend.  Dallas and Cai sometimes went together early and left early; inevitably at ungodly hours of the morning the cops would show up and bust the underage drinkers and shut the party down.  “No, I have a family trip this weekend,” he sighed and shook his head, dark hair falling over his brow.

“Good grief, didn’t you just go on one of these?”

“What can I say?  We’re a close family,” he shrugged and plunged his hands into his pockets.

“Well you’re going to miss one heckofa party!”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it Sunday.”

“Deal.”

“Have a good night, Dallas.”

“Night.”

And that was the highlight of her evening.  A five minute conversation about her inadequacies with her neighbor.  Her feet knew the drill by rote.  She came into the apartment and checked everything; every room, closet and space she had identified as being big enough to hide a person.  She finished her inspection without finding anything out of place.  Satisfied she went to the bedroom and changed into pajamas.  It wasn’t until she was brushing her teeth that she realized what day it was.  She hadn’t spoken to her handler in over six weeks.  She’d meant to call today, follow good-girl-protocol, and figure out what the hell was going on but the blind date had sort of thrown her off, not that her life had ever really settled back onto the tracks in the last eight years.

Suddenly Dallas didn’t feel quite so sleepy or tipsy.

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Lady of the Lorries

Title: Lady of the Lorries

Genre: Fantasy, Chick-Lit

Rating: G

Thoughts: I was thinking about my novel and contemplating the trend in paranormal subjects.  We have a lot of stuff out there about people being turned into a vampire or something – but what if someone was turned into a human?

——-

“I have to pee in a cup? I – the Lady of – “

“Yes, you have to pee in a cup.”

“But I am – “

“Please!”  I squeezed my eyes shut and stood in the doorway holding the cup to Her Lady Whatever.  “The last time you said your name – my car got incinerated into tiny bits.  I’d really like to not be submerged in toilet water.”

The sullen, dark haired girl, who had the worst superiority complex I’d ever seen, took the cup and slammed the door shut.  With a heavy sigh I slumped against the wall and waited.  Her Goddesship would probably have to figure out how to pee in the cup; peeing in and of its self was an adventure I don’t want to remember.  A week and at least now things had stopped being destroyed whenever Lorrie, as I’d named her, started referring to herself in the third person with all sorts of strange titles.  I swear one of them was that she was the Lady of the Lorries – which on this side of the ocean are MacTrucks.

“Done yet?”

There was angry words I didn’t understand and the sound of water.  A few minutes later we were out of there.

“This is undignified!”  She wailed, throwing her arms up in the air.

“What are you talking about?”  I only ever understood half of what she said.

“Urinating in a goblet!”

I just looked at her, hands shoved in my pockets.  We were walking since I no longer had a car.  “Look, do you want to get this whole mess over with?”

“I want to fulfill my challenge!  I want to show that miserable – “

“No names please, I like having the sidewalk under me – not on me.”  Yes, again speaking from experience.

“I want to show – him – that I can live as a mortal!  A human!”  She continued to talk and make a lot of noise and so forth.  Two weeks ago I’d listened intently to every word she’d said.  Heck, after you see a car incinerated from thin air you sort of start believing things you wouldn’t otherwise, but even awe wears off after a while.  Whatever she was, or wasn’t at the moment, I just wanted her little quest done with so she’d leave me alone.

“Okay, so ,” I just interrupted her.  I had no idea what she was jabbering on about but at this point I didn’t care anymore.  “lets run down the list of what you need to do.  You need to get a home.”

“Renting from you.”  She pointed a finger at the sky triumphantly.  She was paying me in some odd coin I couldn’t use, but it meant she was paying me and therefore she’d completed one thing.

“You need a job.”  That had been the hardest thing possible.  Finding someone who would hire a loony lady like her was, well, beyond difficult.

“Bah! Working! It’s the most degrading thing,” she wailed, actually producing tears.  Her tears had a nasty habit of turning into butterflies or dragonflies or something.

“Well your pee test is done, you can start work in a few days.”

“And when I do, I will be victorious!”  She held her arms up like someone had just scored a touchdown.  Two black guys in a doorway looked at her like she was crazy, which she was.

“Yup.  Total victory dance.”

One week.  One week of the Goddess of Gab laying on my couch, eating puffy junk food, and watching soap operas.  I thought I would go crazy.  If I had to hear about how one more soap stars abs were not as good as – his – who was the guy we couldn’t name because then my apartment would burst into flames, and I was rather attached to my apartment, thank you very much.  I came home from my lovely time spent in a cubicle to tend to her needs.

“Lorrie Lady,” I pushed open the door to the apartment, shouting over the evening news.  “You start work tomorrow!”

“Victory is in my grasp!”

“Um, keep in mind you have to get a paycheck.”  I sat down between her and the tv, earning me a very angry look.  “Pay attention.  You have to keep the job for two weeks so you can get a paycheck, and then this is all over.  But you have to keep your job – for two weeks.  You have to listen to someone tell you to do things and you have to do it and pretend you’re like me.”

She didn’t like hearing this, but a lot of things were going on that she just didn’t love.  Like cooking.  I made her learn how to cook when she demanded I become a better cook.

The next morning it was like I’d suddenly gained a child.  I had to get her up, get her dressed, feed her and get everything ready.  As a mail room clerk, I was hoping she wouldn’t have to be around too many people.

“Come on, lets get going.”  Again, we had to walk to the building.  At least she was in my building, if something really bad happened I could hustle her out.  If only I knew that day was the first of 365 days of Lorrie.

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Attack of the Roaches (picture book!)

Title: Attack of the Roaches

Genre: Picture Book

Rating: G

Thoughts: First, I have a severe hatred of roaches.  Yes, this is sort of based on that.  Second, omg this took forever and the pictures aren’t that detailed! I don’t know how Hyperbole and a Half does it.

——-

Once upon a time there was a girl who lived happily in a pretty home.


On day, this home was invaided by giant cockroaches. They were terrible! They ate things. They crawled everywhere. They drank her Dr Pepper!

The girl lived in fear of the roaches.

And then one day a nice salesperson came to her rescue.  He told her about this magical mist that makes roaches go away.

The girl bought the magic mist and took it home and that night she waited for the roaches to go on their nightly raid.

They crawled into her kitchen, waving forks and knives.  One ate her breakfast, another went for a birthday-cake, and then one went after her last Dr Pepper.

The girl lept out of the pantry and began spraying the magic mist.

The roaches realized too late that the magic mist had real power.

The girl’s home was liberated!  She was happy and free to drink her Dr Pepper in peace.

The end.

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Cats drink milk.

Title: Cats drink milk.

Genre: Fiction

Rating: G

Thoughts: This is inspired by a true story.  The situation and nationalities have been changed, but yes – someone really did do this once.

——-

It was amazing how well flattery worked. Even though I only knew ten words of French, it didn’t matter that Caroline didn’t know what I was saying.  She probably thought I was telling her she looked beautiful in the moonlight; in fact, I’m pretty sure that’s what I told her I was saying.  Unfortunately all I know how to say is: The cat laps the milk.  Other than that I sort of make up the words.  Reminds me of the Eddy Izzard skit where he goes to France with a monkey and a table and a chair.

The important fact is that Caroline likes me because she thinks I’m French.  Most of the time I can just sit around and sip wine while her friends say dumb things.  Pretending to be foreign removes the whole need for communication.  She actually told her roommate that we communicate on a ‘deeper level’.  I almost laughed.  It’s become a game to see how well I can frustrate her when we try to ‘communicate’.  Just about anything I do I wrong I can successfully blame on the fact that I’m ‘French’.

Today I’m an hour late for breakfast, which if I remember correctly we’re meeting people.  In truth I’m still kind of hung-over from last night.  Caroline thinks it’s cute.  I think she’s crazy, but I’m not about to let go of a girl that doesn’t demand any effort on my part to maintain.

I’m supposed to meet them at Le Madeline just down the street from my frat house so I decide to do the European thing and walk, hoping the brisk air will help wake me up.  I’m pretty sure that smell I keep thinking I’ll pass – is actually me.  At least I can claim that I’m French and thus immune to American bathing standards, after all that’s why cologne was made, right?

Caroline is sitting by the fire, two other girls and a guy with her; I don’t recognize any of them but it’s not like I pay much attention to her friends anyways.

“Jean!”  Carolyn gets up.  Her mouth is drawn into a little lump of a pout above her chin and she’s trying to look down her nose at me, but at least she gets up to come and give me a hug.

Le chat boit du lait,” I say in her ear.  It has the same reaction every time; she sort of wiggles and hugs me tighter, as if in the next moment I’ll float away.  The reality of the situation is that if she knew I weren’t French, this relationship – if I can even call it that – would be over.

“Jean, I want you to meet my friends.”

I really don’t want to meet them, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices.  She pulls my chair as close to hers as she can get it and we sit down, squeezed around a four person table with the five of us.

“Jean, this is Pierre and Francesca, they’re from Paris!  Isn’t that cool?  They’re visiting the school and I just had to get you guys together.”  Caroline continues to chatter in my ear, but all I hear is blahblahblahblah – oh crap.

Bonjour Jean. Il fait beau à la viande vous. Caroline nous a dit tellement au sujet de l’école. Que pensez-vous cela ?

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