theshooz76 (joined over 13 years ago)
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It was the nipple that made Clara blush. The rest of the artwork was intricate and exquisite, the calligraphy simply sublime. But her eye kept creeping back to the nipple. The nipple belonged to a drawing of a girl, peeking around what appeared to be a silk curtain. On the opposite page was drawn a geisha in a beautiful red kimono. Unfortunately for the geisha, the girl opposite her stole all attention.

What was this strange little book? Ancient pornography? It didn't seem titillating enough for that. Despite the nudity, the images had an innocent undercurrent, taunting, but not provocative....

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I have no beef with people over the age of 25, but this week, if you're a "youngin'," just watch the hell out because you're dealing with The 34-Year Old Curmudgeon. I will lay out a buffet of whup-ass on you so hard that you'll wish your skinny jeans had extra padding in the seat area.

I'll show you places on your body you never would have dreamed an iPad would fit (with a little jimmying and perhaps some Crisco). I'll shake my imaginary cane at you and scream at you to get the hell off of my theoretical lawn,...

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Bombs were the last thing on his mind. Literally. Jim was struck dead-on in the head by a warhead, and, naturally, it killed him instantly.

But when Jim regained awareness, it was in a huge warehouse, cordoned off into a long line; others were standing in single-file, inching slowly toward what appeared to be some sort of bank teller's window. From the looks of the line, however, he didn't think he'd be getting service any time soon--the line doubled back on itself at least fifteen times.

Hours passed, people crept, and he eventually got within ten people back of the...

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When the department store exploded, fine home furnishings, clocks, toys and various fruits and shoes came raining down like a merchandise monsoon. Most of them landed harmlessly in the parking lot.

The people, however, did not fare so well. Most of them were dead from the initial blast, but those who weren't landed with a meaty thud, skulls fracturing like the pineapples that were also cast through the air.

It was one of the worst department store explosions of the decade, though strangely, not the very worst--that one came about three months prior, when the detonation occurred near the hardware...

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Three pigeons landed near a sleeping homeless person, huddled up in the alcove of a building along 4th Street. The biggest pigeon, Paul, strutted by the slumbering figure as Marta, the medium-sized pigeon, walked by pretending not to see.

Paul said, "Marta, how can you just ignore this man? If I recall, you were homeless once, too."

Marta stopped to peck aimlessly at a crumb of bagel on the street.

The third pigeon, Gideon, was looking across the street at the bustling bakery, hoping to spot somebody dropping a morsel of bread or muffin, preferably banana-nut, because it was his...

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The drive had been long and hot, and Mac's head barely cleared the top of the steering wheel. Betsy was being an incorrigible fuss, and Mac was silently fantasizing about slamming on the brakes and shoving her out of the passenger side door.

Maybe it was the hat.

He asked her, begged her not to wear the hat, but she knew it would get under his skin like nothing else (except maybe singing show tunes as loudly as possible, so she popped it on her head with a smile and hopped into the truck without saying a word.

That was...

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"I could never be a poet because I just can't seem to master the semicolon," I said.

"Not that hard to figure out, really," she replied. "Google it."

It wasn't that big of a deal to me. To be honest, I didn't even like poetry. Still, I Googled it anyway, and found out more than I ever wanted to know about the semicolon.

Later that night, I was hit by a semi; I had to have a section of my colon removed.

Uncanny, that was...

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The planet of Book was under constant threat of an enormous finger coming down upon it and crushing countless citizens of the terrorized planet. For years, everybody had been safe--they sat on a shelf, undisturbed for nearly three years--but because of a recent movie adaptation of the story contained within, a new-found popularity forced them to face the fact that they would no longer be safe.

The leader of Book, an em-dashing senior who often punctuated his sentences by pounding his fist on the podium from where he spoke, called an emergency meeting of the greatest minds to come up...

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It was the fall that surprised me the most. Three steps backward, and then that horrible feeling of stomach-in-throat, where time passes normally but feels like an eternity; seconds equaled hours as I prepared myself for the eventual landing; just as I thought I was ready, more time would pass.

All told, I was probably lacking contact with the ground for no longer than a fraction of a second, but just like in the movies, the fall felt like a slow-motion ordeal--it was as if the air were made of liquid and I was lighter than normal, but still heavy...

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It was the fall that surprised me most. I had never been a graceful person, and I was no stranger to the more than occasional stumble and bumble, but to actually lose my balance, to land hard on my rump, feet splayed out in front of me with no chance to catch myself, that was a surprise.

Luckily, I didn't land on my trombone, which was strapped to my back in a relatively unprotected cloth gig bag. Trombone players are marginally useful as it is, and trust me, NOBODY needs a trombone player with a flat bell or bent slide....

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