Thursday, March 29, 2007
I put on over on him. He put one over on me. Tit for tat, right? I mean, sort of.
I hid his keys for like half an hour. He was jumping around and yelling by the end of it, and I got scared. He said he'd kill me. I thought it was, y'know, metaphorical. I thought it was like the way you say, "I'll Kick Your Ass!" You don't mean that you will literally kick somebody's ass, but rather that you will hit and beat them until they are soundly licked. I say he took it harder than he had to. I mean, I didn't even hide his keys very well.
They were on the counter anyway. I dropped them into an empty coffee cup that was sitting right next to where they had been, and I turned the cup upside down. All he had to do was turn over the cup and there they were, safe and sound. I even dried the cup out with the hem of hem of my shirt, so no coffee would get on his keys.
Now, here I am in the trunk of his car. I can hear him digging out there. He knows I can hear it. He knows I know he's out there. He's fucking with me. Not like you'd be fucking with somebody, if you were, like, fucking them, but like, if you were fucking with their head. Like if you knew they were scared to die, and you had them tied in a trunk and were digging a hole out in the middle of nowhere. And if you were, it sounds like, giggling a little and kind of talking to yourself. If you'd hit them a couple'a times with a tire iron, and you were thinking, maybe, they though you were going to let them go in a minute, and the two of you would just agree that there would be no more key-hiding in the future. You know, that kind.
I guess it'd be OK, really, if that was all. I mean, sure, I hid his keys, and I probably deserve some kind of lesson, but I don't see why Linda's here. I mean, she didn't hide anybody's keys. Again, she's kind of an object lesson. He's always using Linda as an object lesson for me. Things could be worse. I could be gagged. At least I can still breathe OK. I'll probably get over this eventually, I just wish my wife wasn't here. It makes a fellow feel uncomfortable, not only not being able to get himself out of a tough jam, but being stuck in it with his wife. What's a guy to do?
Lay here and hope this is all a joke, really. That, and remember never to hide his buddy's keys any more.
by MisterNihil 6:30 PM
It's too bad my wife is here.
by Stevarino 5:40 PM
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
They despised each other in secret.
by Stevarino 11:07 AM
- Check in for today's topic, or offer one on your appointed day.
- Log into Blogger.
- Once the edit window loads, start the clock.
- Write for ten minutes. Then, stop.
- Select the text, press Ctrl+C to capture it, then publish the post.
- In the unlikely event that Blogger consumes your post, thank your lucky stars (and Sharon) that you copied it onto your clipboard. You're welcome.
Copyright 2005 Sharon Cichelli, Mary Ann Borer, Martha Cichelli, Blythe Christopher, Fred Coppersmith, Faith Drewry, Dan Gabbett, Ben Gibbs, Jonathan Leistiko, Josh Martinez, David Menendez, Christy Roy, Shawn Sharp, Bryan Storti, Remi Treuer, Margaret Whaley, Glen Williams, John Williams, Erik Wilson