idiotpruf

The blog that prevents scurvy…as long as you eat orange slices while you read it.

Archive for the tag “short story”

Builder to Sue Three Little Pigs

“It’s given the whole straw house industry a bad name,” Cyril Tottering, the proprietor of Tottering Straw Homes Inc., complained.
Mr. Tottering’s business has taken quite a financial hit since the story of the Three Little Pigs has gotten out.
“Those pigs are blatant liars,” Mr. Tottering asserted, “you can’t just blow down one of my straw houses.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” the First Little Pig said, “The Big Bad Wolf huffed and puffed and coughed a bit; he was a smoker, but then he blew the house down.”
“My straw houses pass rigorous testing,” Mr. Tottering asserted.
“I guess none of that ‘rigorous testing’ involves a lit match,” the Third Little Pig responded snidely. “Tottering came around trying to sell me one of those crappy straw houses; I wouldn’t keep my dung pile in one of those things. My brother, the First Little Pig, kept bragging about how cheap his house was…look where that got him.”
“We could ask Mr. Wolf what really happened, but evidently, the pigs boiled him in oil,” Mr. Tottering explained. “That hardly seems like trustworthy behavior.”
“If you come down someone’s chimney uninvited, boiled in oil is what you’re gonna get,” The Third Little Pig stated. “We’re not just going to allow ourselves to be eaten-not by the hairs on our chinny chin chins.”
“What does that even mean: the hairs on our chinny chin chins? It pisses me off every time they say that.” Mr. Tottering scowled.
Mr. Tottering informed us that he and Mr. Dennis Flimsy, owner of Flimsy Stick Homes Inc., are teaming up to launch a defamation lawsuit against the Three Little Pigs.
“I wouldn’t keep my dung pile in one of those stick houses either,” the Third Little Pig chuckled. “Tottering and Flimsy: pretty aptly described if you ask me.”
“Those are our names!” Mr. Tottering yelled in exasperation.
“It seemed like an excellent deal at the time,” the First Little Pig explained.
“Who would think wolves have such lung capacity?” the Second Little Pig added.
Luckily for the Three Little Pigs, the Third Little Pig’s brick house was impervious to the wolf’s blowing.
“Our brother said that thing about his dung pile again, didn’t he?” the first little pig asked disgustedly.
“Yeah,” the second little pig said in conclusion, “he’s kind of a jerk about that big brick house of his.”

Denouement–it’s Fun to Say

poe

Edgar Allan Poe: novelist, short story writer, and poet…something is missing.

In a previous post I stressed the importance of reading.

But it’s not just that you read; what you read is of equal importance.

The novel: Novels are essentially piles and piles of words endlessly strung together. Novelists are concerned with things like setting, theme, plot resolution, and character growth. Do friends become enemies? Do enemies become friends? Are obstacles overcome?

Important questions need to be answered in novels.

  • Does Captain Ahab’s obsession with the white whale drag him under?
  • Does Edmund Dantes’ quest for revenge ruin his chance for happiness?
  • Does Jay Gatsby reunite with his long-lost love?
  • Does Sydney Carton seek redemption by going to the gallows for another?
  • Does Lucy ever let Charlie Brown kick the football?

Seriously, novels are just exhausting–I would avoid them.

Note: The word denouement is fun to say–it’s all Frenchy.

hallucination

Reading novels makes young children have disturbing hallucinations…it’s a fact.

The short story: Short stories are just novels for people with short attention spans. They are primarily written by lazy novelists who probably had a little too much to drink the night before, and couldn’t be bothered to write a proper novel.

Don’t waste your time with short stories.

Poetry: The key element of poetry you need to recognize is that if can even remotely understand it, it’s not proper poetry. When a poet writes a poem about a leaf being blown from a tree, falling to the ground, and being trampled underfoot. He’s not actually writing about a leaf being blown from a tree, falling to the ground, and being trampled underfoot.

The leaf represents hopelessness, and the futility of a life marred by series of tragic events. The leaf being blown from the tree represents a life spiraling into an alcohol fueled abyss of despair. The leaf being trampled underfoot represents the crushing weight of an uncaring world and inevitable grip of death.

It’s all so confusing and depressing. I once spent the better part of an afternoon curled up in the fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably after reading a collection Sylvia Plath poems. (Sylvia Plath was one depressing chick.)

For the sake of your mental health stay away from poetry.

Note: This does not apply to limericks. Limericks are short humorous poems with a strict meter and rhyme scheme. They tend to revolve around an odd man from a small island off the coast of Massachusetts.

Nantucket

Nantucket: evidently there was once a man from there.

The humor blog: Humor blogs are unsurpassed in pure entertainment value. They are practically happiness in written form.

Many humor bloggers are attractive people; the rest are stunningly attractive people. Humor bloggers are the best sort of people; the sort of people you want to praise continuously and occasionally bask in their reflected glow.

They have breath that is perpetually minty fresh, and they seldom sweat.

Humor blogs are read by highly intelligent people. They are read by people who are witty and charming. They are wholly unlike those dullards who read books of poetry.

Humor blogs enrich your life, and they give meaning to your otherwise drab existence.

Whenever a humor blog is read, somewhere a small child laughs.

Humor blogs are to be read, read again, memorized, and repeated aloud in public.

You have your mission–so get to it.

laughing kid

Congratulations, you just made a small child laugh.

 

Rise of the (Coffee) Machines (Short Story) – by Oliver Giggins

GeeksBearingGifs's avatar

When the apocalypse came and the robots rose up, it wasn’t begun by a military program. It wasn’t due to a prototype, or a mistake.

In fact, robots had been common place for years. So no one batted an eye-lid when a coffee-chain brought on robots as cleaning staff. Why should they? Robots don’t need paying and don’t complain.

But then they didn’t see…

You see, there are some things Man was not meant to know. Some things Man was not meant to do. Some things Man should never have contemplated.

One of them was programming robots to “clean the cafe up” without giving any of those terms a proper definition.

It didn’t take long before the cleaning robots realised the quickest way of controling rubbish was atomising customers on entry.

And they may have been right as from that point on, the place was spotless.

Needless to say, eventually the…

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