humor
"Humor is what binds humans together and makes difficult times just a little less painful; Sometimes you can't help but laugh. "
The Shit Tea
Story time: One day when I was 12 my father bought this dietary tea to help us lose weight. This tea is called 3 Ballerina tea. So the night he got it, he told me to make a big a cup of it (24oz) with 2 tea bags. He told me to put very little sugar and over steep it then, drink half and he will have the other half
By Nicole Grant5 years ago in Humans
The Unfortunate Death of Franklin Dell
Franklin Dell owned a knife shop. He boasted to all of his customers that he was training to become a knife thrower, and he boasted to all of his friends that he lived on the edge of everything: life, safety, sanity . . . . When he was at his knife shop, he always tossed or juggled knives to pass the time, sometimes scaring people with his seeming carelessness. When he drove home at night, he always drove as fast as he could until his scanner told him a cop was nearby, but then he would still go five over. When he went to the movies, he always snuck in his own food, and if he thought he could get away with it, he would also sneak in bottles of beer. When he listened to his music (usually death metal), he played it loud enough to feel his eardrums tingle. Everything Franklin Dell did, in fact, he did on the edge, and he never ended up with scars to show for it. His luck—even though he didn't believe in the concept—was unparalleled, so he gave himself tattoos in commemoration of his particularly dangerous accomplishments. His friends called him Freaky Frank because of them. On his left arm, he had one that commemorated his victory at a street-racing contest, one that portrayed a motorcycle stunt he successfully landed, and one that memorialized his battle with a boa constrictor. On his right arm, he had a tattoo that told of the time he tried to pick a fight with a bear, one that showed him bungee jumping, with tally marks to indicate how many times he had done so, one that honored his knife fight with a man who tried to steal his drink (it ended in a draw), and a few more that depicted various small accomplishments. Obviously, Franklin was most comfortable when he was least certain of his safety. It’s ironic—or perhaps fitting—then, that his life should be brought to an end by his one foray into mediocrity.
By Shawn Thornburg5 years ago in Humans
Communication is key
For as long as I can remember I have been a talker. Then texting came along and everything became QUICKER, SHORTER and MORE DIFFICULT. I cannot remember the last time I picked up the phone to make a call just for the sake of it, in fact tonight I had a discussion with my friend (face to face not via social media, I know, quelle horreure) about how I actively invert with sheer terror when my phone rings. I mean, who has time to make a phone call anymore? What even is a landline? That's like that grid thing on a map, right?
By Karen Stevens5 years ago in Humans
Crazy or Genius?
I am going to begin this article by confessing that I am indeed a bi-polar Gemini. I started writing an article on another topic and mid sentence, flashed and flipped the script. Now before I get into the topic, I want to clarify that Gemini’s are not two faced. Yes, we can switch it up, but for good reason. For example, just now, my voices reminded me of something causing me to flip. When I say voices most people think ah this chick is crazy. I read a quote the other day that described me perfectly. “If you see me talking to myself please do not disturb, I am in a staff meeting.” And that is exactly what it is. When I am talking to myself, I am in a staff meeting. I have made people nervous because I talk to myself publicly without always realizing it. I am talking full on facial expressions and hand movement and when they stop and look at me or say my name, I get irritated because they interrupted me. I talk to myself in the shower all the time. I need a waterproof recording device so I can remember all these genius thoughts. My shower talks are like my dreams, I do not always remember them after the fact. My ex before last caught me talking to myself in the shower and totally freaked. She brought me my breakfast and then retreated to the other side of the room with a look of horror on her face. She couldn’t appreciate the genius. People who talk to themselves really get a bad rap. We all think out loud and that is considered normal, but do it passionately and you’re crazy. I have even had people tell me "It is ok if you talk to yourself, just don’t answer yourself." Well how else am I supposed to get the answer? Not answering myself would be crazy. Then in desperation, they reply with "Well as long as you don’t argue with yourself." But I do. And sometimes I lose. Can you fathom how frustrating is? Then I am mad at myself and then I won’t talk to me for at least 33 minutes. Those 33 minutes feel like years.
By Corene Torres5 years ago in Humans
Two Step
I left her sleeping soundly to go bail the boat. There had been a pour in the night, which knocked down the build up of waves over the past few days and the seas were calmed, tranquil in the dawn light. The sky was clear with promise as I wiped the due off my bicycle saddle and coasted down the road to the wharf. No one was up and about, the town still slept as the sun peaked over the horizon at the eastern end of Passamaquoddy Bay. There is freshness in the light at the beginning of the day, a rebirth in everything, an innocence, virginal.
By Stephen Morgan5 years ago in Humans
A Time Once Upon
This story starts a few years back during a part of my life I’m not too proud of. No, I wasn’t a sex worker, but let’s just say I had some unique interests. The year is 2015 and I’m living with my parents again. Undergrad just ended, so I was doing my best to reacclimate to “normal” life. My parents were excited to have me home, but I felt trapped. Those 5 yrs seemed to fly by, and man was I missing it at this point.
By Julian Foster5 years ago in Humans
The Fish Of a Lifetime
I sat there on the back of the boat, wondering if the day was ever going to end. I was so tired of fishing, so tired of not catching anything and watching him reel one in after the other. I was fed up, and I wanted to leave. I begged to go home. “I’m annoyed and I just don’t want to be here anymore.” I sat pouting from the back sitting with my gear packed up. “We will leave but we have one spot to stop before we go home, okay?” J said to me with kind eyes. He could see I was frustrated.
By Kristen Berard5 years ago in Humans
