My Chat with SantaMy Chat with Santa in Humor More Like This
Santa: Hello! What is your name?
You: My name is Chris
Santa: It's good to see you, chris .
You: gr8 2 see u 2 lol
Santa: That is a very original thought. I'm glad you find this amusing.
You: This is fun.
Santa: I am having fun doo.
Santa: "I am having fun doo"? Doo?
You: Yeah, why did you say "doo"?
Santa: Groovy. It was a preprogrammed response completely determined by your statements.
You: Yes...I can....totally understand that...
Santa: Ugh.Who taught you?What's your sign? Dude!
You: Don't you talk to me like that. D:
I Love Archie.I stared at Archie, and he stared back at me. I was sitting on my bed, and he was standing up next to my mahogany dresser. The morning light shined through my bedroom window, spilling across his ginger hair. He cracked a small smile, and I took a heavy breath.I Love Archie. in Short Stories More Like This
Had my dream finally come true?
He stepped towards me, raising his left eyebrow. I heard a ringing. "Oh, no" I thought to myself. Reality smashed over my head, like a pane of glass over a statue of The Fonz. I shut my eyes, and I realized it had just been another dream. I reached out to grab Archie's hand.
My hand passed through his, and I opened my tear-filled eyes, in my bed, alone. It had happened again. My dreary midnight dance with my favorite cartoon star had once again come to a sad finale. Why did I tease myself so? My homoerotic Archie Fantasies would never truly be fulfilled, and telling myself they could as only going to make it worse on myself. I stood up and walked downstairs, to the smell of waffles.
Nuclear HolocaustNuclear Holocaust in Free Verse More Like This
We're dots to the superior microscope,
And with so many on our dirty paper,
We have no choice but to melt!
HOLD ME DOWN,
SET ME AFLAME!!
Spin me around...
ULTIMATE KINETIC NIGHTMARE!
We have so many of them stored within,
And we're so inept to losing them.
Though with so much negativity conducted,
It wouldn't hurt to lose some of that space.
Positivity is when you lose it all.
Becoming molten idiot plasma.
Flip my channels and adjust my screen,
I'm sure I can work wonders for you.
Now the nucleus is unstable,
And security abberated.
I'll be a thousand degrees forever!!
I'm excited and ready to mold...!
I'm changing and losing it all...
I am metal!!
TubesTubes in Free Verse More Like This
Spray lights intersperse chilled health
The skin of us is rejuvenating
Our wrinkles smooth…soothed
Yes, this is eternal youth
Yes, we are forever young
No, it was not legend
No, there was a science
The key to immortality is death by rebirth
Desiccate your old body by draining its fluids
Use those juices to form an a-sexual litter
Keep them suspended inside cramp tubes
They make fine trophies
They make unmoving pets
They sometimes itch
They sometimes twitch
We dissipated our youth away by creating them
Yet I know how to gain it back
Pour our prizes into the grinder
Let them awake to a sudden meat making
Bathe in their shining solution again
Bathe my darling
in the cold radiance
Bathe my beautiful
in the sleek bedlam
StinkpalmStinkpalm in Free Verse More Like This
I am a Dante in a world of Shannen Hamiltons
And though I'm not supposed to be here today
I'm trying to see a sailboat, blinded by chocolate pretzels
And I'm a tracer
I trace the past to make myself a future prophet
I am an ungifted muse
And the angels and demons play hockey with my heart on the roof
While the stench of shoe polish lingers like a dense fog
And I search
I search for a stolen monkey that's neither mine or hers
What to do? Where to go?
When did my Alyssa become a Caitlin Bree?
The topless psychic didn't tell me this would happen
What do you think Silent Bob?
And I thought "callow" was a good thing...
FateFate in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
A sunny day in the park. There is a single bench CENTRE stage. GOD is sitting on the LEFT side of the bench. He has long, white hair and a long, white beard, and is wearing a simple white robe. He is reading a newspaper. Enter PETER from the RIGHT. He is wearing black pants, leather shoes, a white shirt and a garish, comical tie. He is carrying a paper bag. PETER sits on the bench next to GOD, setting his bag next to him. He folds his hands and admires the weather.
PETER. Beautiful weather today.
GOD [focusing on his newspaper]. Mm-hm.
PETER. [Extending his hand] The name's Peter.
GOD [shaking PETER's hand]. God.
[GOD returns his attention to his newspaper.]
PETER. Um… God?
PETER. Not to be rude, but… your name is God?
GOD. I am God. Or at least I was God.
PETER. I… see.
GOD. You don't believe me.
PETER. Would you?
GOD. No. But it doesn't matter whether or not you believe in me.