Category Archives: Creative

1200. 1200st

Would you look at that! (exclaimed Myrtle). It’s the oneth thousandth and twoth hundredth story on this blog. Oneth thousandth and twoth hundredth! That’s amazing!

It’s not the oneth thousandth and twoth hundredth story (interrupted Benjamin). It’s the one thousand and two hundredth story.

You think you know everything! (exclaimed Myrtle). She took a pistol from her mohair handbag and shot Benjamin dead. Bang! Bang! One in the heart and one in the head. (Head first).

That’s for being a know-all! (exclaimed Myrtle even though, by now, Benjamin was incapable of hearing her). Yet another body. What’s one more death in all these oneth thousandth and twoth hundredth stories?

It’s starting to smell around here (observed Horace, who had been present the whole time). In all of these onest thousandst and twost hundredst stories there have been only a couple of funerals.

It’s not the onest thousandst and twost hundredst story (raged Nora, who had also been present the whole time). It’s the onerd thousandrd and tword hundredrd story.

Nora was seen taking a pistol from her mohair handbag. The plot thickens as occasionally happens.

1199. Garden trolley

It was Magdalena’s lucky day! She had driven to the garden shop to get some petunias. As she pulled into an empty car space she suddenly braked. A shopping trolley had been left carelessly in the parking space. Magdalena backed out and parked in another empty space.

On her way to the shop she thought she would take the trolley and put it in the trolley stand. It was such a nuisance taking up a valuable parking space.

Oh wonder of wonders! Oh rapture! That was the secret trolley. Everyone else had walked past it all day. Magdalena was the one to return it and she got a five hundred dollar shopping voucher from the garden shop. Even a photographer was there to record the event for the local paper!

“I’ve never won anything before,” said Magdalena.

Magdalena got lots of things with her voucher. She got some plants and some seeds, but also some weed killer, and some netting to stop the birds from eating her blueberries. She even got a new hoe to replace the one that had seen better days. And of course, she got a new garden hose. The hose was top of the range! This hose wasn’t going to kink like every other garden hose Magdalena had owned throughout her entire life.

When she got home Magdalena put all her wonderful treasures in the garden shed.

A few days later her little grandson went into the garden shed, drank the weed killer, and died.

(Footnote: Hi everyone – These days, generally speaking, I can use the internet only between midnight and 6 a.m. (New Zealand time). I generally go to bed at 10 p.m. and get up at 5 a.m. (used to be a dairy farmer hence the old rising habit!) However, by the time I’ve made the coffee and read the news, there’s very little time for reading your blogs. Some blogs I can sneak a peek during the day, provided they don’t have many pictures. My own blog is posted and scheduled until mid July 2018 (except for a couple of poems) so I will continue to appear as if I’m posting daily – but in fact my participation in the blogging community is going to be rather limited. So until further notice I’m going to be a pretty secret reader! I enjoy our blogging community and will be fully back as soon as I can – but my daytime internet has a daytime limit, and daytime online work-from-home has to come first. Bruce)

Poem 56: There was no starlight in her eyes

There was no starlight in her eyes
when I asked her for a dance,
but she was the only wallflower left, and
beggars can’t be choosers.

There was no starlight in her eyes.
She cavorted to the beat like a waddling duck;
her arms flayed like a windmill. Yeah,
beggars can’t be choosers.

There was no starlight in her eyes.
Her clothes didn’t match her hair;
they looked like hand-me-downs. See,
beggars can’t be choosers.

There was no starlight in her eyes.
I guess that goes with being blind.

 

 

1197. The artist’s model

Stella had the most beautiful hair. Her hair was the envy of everyone. All who saw it couldn’t help but gush with wonder and admiration. It was almost as if Stella was a mutation. Her hair was probably why the artist had asked Stella if she would mind posing for a painting.

“Just look up to the ceiling for a minute if you would,” asked the painter.

“Turn your head slightly to the right,” asked the painter.

“Gently frisk your hair to the left. Just a little! Perfect!” said the artist.

“All done,” said the artist. Pablo Picasso put down his brushes.

Stella had the most beautiful hair. It was just a shame she had only one eye and in the middle of her forehead, three ears, and a nose that pointed in two directions at once.

1196. Planet Unisex

The time had come! The males of the human species were tired of paying large sums of money to every female on the planet. A male had only to smile at a female and it was taken to be offensive. Obviously a smile meant the male wanted sex. Clearly there was only one thing on every male’s mind, and that was rape. But now, the time had come!

Cloning. Females were no longer needed for reproduction. Thus they were obliterated from the face of the planet. Only baby boys were hatched. How much happier the planet had become. Planet Earth changed its name to Planet Unisex.

Except…

…it was the other way around.