Legend Of The Fry Thief

December 24, 2008

She came upon me with her cheery glow, asking me for a simple fry at first. I kindly allowed such a kind act. Whats a simple fry when I have a basket full in front of me. So, she sat and ate her fry while we conversed about the weather, and other such small talk.

Until, my large not so full anymore coke left me with a full bladder that was in desperate need of depletion. So I ran to the nearest rest room to relieve myself. And, oh how I did.

I returned to my table where I sat to find my basket of fries missing, and a simple note saying ‘Thank you, that was delicious! Maybe next time get iced tea. “

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Lisa The Wench

August 31, 2008

There once was a wench named Lisa. She came into my bar one night, announced herself as, “Hello gentleman. The names Lisa, or as my friends like to call me The Wench. One night with me, and you’ll be good as dead.

“Dead?”, I said.

“Dead”, She replied.

“Now why would I want to die?”, I asked. Confused, yet amused at her queer nature.

She giggled at my inquiry. “Dead tired silly. Dead after being drained from a night of relentless passion.” She said with a twinkle in her eye, and a smiled filled with mischief.

At this point I wasn’t the only one listening. Andy, a regular was listening from his table close to the bar. He would of fallen off his chair if he didn’t get up and approach the wench.  Before I could warn him he was out the door with a piece of wood in his hands.

This was the last time I saw Andy, for she was no mortal woman, no ordinary wench. She was a succubus you see. A dread amongst men, a curse for the weak; God’s way of punishing sinners. Be this a lesson for you young men who have trouble keeping it your pants. Turn your head, plug your ears. Do whatever it takes for you not to walk out with that wench who seems so enticing.

Now Hiring: Robots

July 30, 2008

6:40 A.M My alarm goes off.

6:50 A.M I get out of bed, and wash up.

6:55 A.M I go grab the paper from my porch, and read some headline about some guy named Dr. Frank Nigel Stein. The article reads how he is on the brink of a breakthrough to give robots enough brains to be on par with humans. God, I hate robots.

7:45 A.M On the subway headed to work. Here comes a robot to ask me for my ticket. Big, grey, stupid, programmed for simple functions ‘cause its good for nothing else. God, I hate robots.

8:30 A.M A robot dressed as doorman greets me, while holding the door for me. I still remember the man that used to do this for me. And, I remember the smile, the warm in his voice, and his dirty jokes. Now I’m stuck with this. I keep telling myself that I’m going to have a heart attack if that robot one day tells me a joke, or says anything other then his usual crap. Then again he is programmed for one thing: to take a good mans job. God, I hate robots.

10:45 A.M 15 minutes ‘till lunch. I can’t wait to get away from these screens. I can’t wait to stop watching these pathetic people walk around. I used to be something. I used to be a great welder, ‘till some bastard had the great idea that a robot can do what I did better, and in less time. God, I hate robots.

1:30 P.M I see some kids push around a robot that’s picking up trash. Now we’ll just move this camera a little to the right, so these kids can be out of camera shot. Can’t be having good kids get into trouble over something that should be done more often. I hate nothing more in this world then robots.

5:00 P.M Joe is arguing with me about how I hate robots. He’s trying to point out the benefits like how amputees have robotic arms that fully function like a regular arm, instead of a prosthetic which will lie limp. I say, “Nothing wrong with technological advancements that better humans. Not take their jobs”. He doesn’t understand. Nobody understands. One day they will though. Then they will know why I hate robots.

7:00 P.M I get home. I turn on the television but don’t hear what the news reporter is saying as I walk out of the room and into the kitchen.

10:00 P.M Sleep.

6:40 A.M My Alarm goes off.

6:55 A.M I go grab the paper from my porch, and read the headline about how Dr. Frank. Nigel Stein is murdered by his own robot. A smile appears on my face. I love robots.

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