Tag Archives: Story

Nerd Love

Um, I just wrote this for myself and it’s really silly. I’m posting it unedited because something in me says if I don’t post it now, I won’t post it at all.

Every time I talk shit on romances, I immediately try to write one. This is the closest to a real romance that I’ve probably ever written.

 


 

Maura was allergic to everything. Gluten, dairy, eggs, barley, tomatoes, and of course peanuts. She had so much EpiPen, she started to get high off it. When forced into social situations, she would sometimes take an allergen just so she could stick herself with the EpiPen. She was also a cutter and an alcoholic and an asthmatic.

Being thin and pale and unable to leave her filtered house without all kinds of defenses, she spent a great deal of her time playing video games inside. She was amazing at video games. She was top level in her RPG, high man in the FPS, and a real whiz at MineSweeper.

One day she heard about a new game called “Knock Your Socks Off.” She wasn’t sure what it was, but it got good reviews, so she downloaded it and started it up.

An electric shock from her computer jolted through her, she kicked spasmodically until her socks went sailing clear across the room.

When she woke up, a beautiful man was leaning over her. He had chromium gray eyes, a steel cut chin, and a build like… Shrek. Hm. “Are you okay?” He said.

She let him help her up before she realized he was in her room. “How did you get here? Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m your neighbor Ralph. I just moved in.”

She looked around. Her computer was dead.

“Did the power go out?”

“Yes, I think there was a massive surge. I saw lightning flicker across my ceiling. Then I heard a loud crash from your room next to mine and when I came out to see, your door had blown clean off the hinges.  What do you think could have done this? Does your computer draw a lot of power?”

“Oh… no…” she said weakly. Her computer was a Behemoth 10,000, top of the line, and waayy over the building’s electric capacity. She had saved for two years just to afford the payments.

Her throat felt itchy. Wait.. no door!? Oh no. She hadn’t taken any antihistamines or otherwise prepared for this attack on her respiratory system. Her face was already swelling up. She was going to die. She was getting delirious on the fear and adrenaline and lack of oxygen. Losing to delirium.

“Kiss me you mad impetuous fool,” she said thickly, and pulled him into a kiss.

Peanuts. He tasted of peanuts.

She was definitely going to die.

“WORTH IT,” she managed to choke out as everything went chromium gray.

 

The next thing she knew, she wasn’t dead. The EpiPen high was flooding through her. Her mouth tasted of  strange lip balm. And peanuts. And misery. And climate control? Whence came this life-giving air filtration?

She shook her head to clear it, then regretted that move when a headache slammed into her like a Mack truck.

“Oh my god, you’re awake!” A magnificent baritone took the edge of her pain. There he was. Concerned gray eyes. High gloss full black hair. And… well, she’d always been fond of Shrek anyway.

“I realized your climate control was gone so I brought you into my place. I hope that’s okay.”

“You administered the EpiPen?”

“I’m a diabetic. I know how to give a shot.”

A diabetic… with climate control… EpiPen anytime..?

All of the sudden Maura couldn’t talk to him anymore. “Thank you,” she managed. “If you ever want a sugar free dessert… I have a lot of sugar free jello in my cabinet I didn’t know what to do with.”

His eyes widened. “I… love jello,” he said.

That was their first awkward moment together.

 

So they got married and lived together in nerdy bliss and rarely had to leave their house. Ralph invited a lot of people over though, and Maura was forced to make more friends.

 

The end

 

Life in the Desert – collaborative story

 

I’ve been wasting time writing stories with my friend G lately, and they said I could post one of them. This one cracked me up. I love collaborating on nonsense like this.

 

G>S001 03/29/19

Janet and Bill had moved to the desert two years ago.  They liked Dry Climates, and they hated Rain, although they liked water.  Bill had been a former executive with Podunk Industries, makers of Inner Tubes, and Janet had been a programmer working for a small company called “Magic”, that had been recently bought out by Microsoft.  Janet had quite a large chunk of stock options in Magic,and she had cashed them out so that they could build their dream home in the Desert.  Their dream home was a Cave in the Desert, in which they invested a lot of money to make it into elegant and sustainable living quarters. It had running water, a sewer system, toilets, Propane piping, and electricity from the 15 Kilowatt Propane generator, as well as a solar powered system for energy collection on the sunny days, which of course was most of them. Polished stone flooring was added throughout the cave to add a touch of elegance.  The cave contained his and her garages for their vehicles, including a small helicopter, and there were secret passages, a safe, a safe room, a full kitchen, gym and workout room and rooms for their hobbies. All of this was sealed behind a huge door impenetrable by outsiders, and closed circuit surveillance kept an eye on everything so it was very safe and secure.   Bill played the Guitar, and Janet liked crafts of all kinds, so they each had rooms filled with stuff of their likings.  One day Janet said to Bill…..

S>G002 3/30/19

“All this stuff sure is great, but what good is it without children?”

“No no,” said Bill. “I have insecurities and I know I’ll make a terrible father. How about instead of a kid, we get a pet?”

“I would like a pet!” Janet said.

“Whew,” said Bill, relieved.

But his relief didn’t last for long. Soon the house, already jam-packed with belongings, was also jam-packed with camels, the manifestation of Janet’s unfulfilled desires. They had over thirty camels and Janet insisted on keeping them inside, and the camels chewed on everything.  One day Bob was trying to recline on his hammock in his room when the camel-chewed string broke and he fell, landing hard and breaking his coccyx.

“Help!” He called, but Janet had gone out for more camel kibble. A camel walked in the room and stared at him, glassy eyed.

“I hate you,” he told the camel.

The camel leaned over and started to lazily eat his Lego set.

G>S003 3/31/19

“That’s it!…I’ve had enough”, said Bill to himself, and he got the plasma rock melter out of the cave’s tool storage area, and headed to the back of the cave, to melt out a new room, a pen just for enclosing all of Janet’s camels. While he was performing this task, Camels would wander back to see what he was doing, spit on him, slobber, make a humorous braying sound and then wander back.

“Damn Camels!!” said Bill to no one in particular, and continued his rock melting. Bill
laughed when one of the Camels walked in front of the Plasma Rock Melter and was instantly vaporized. Just as he was finishing, Janet returned with a truck full of Alpo Camel Bits, Camel Kibble and 100 pound sacks of Buffalo Camel feed.

Janet said “Where is my Favorite camel Zelda?”

Bill said with a chuckle, “Just follow the smell…and you will find her.”

Janet said, “What are you doing, Bill?”

He said, “I am making a Camel corral to house all of your Camels before they eat up the entire house…they already ate most of your craft items in your craft room.”

Janet said, “Well OK, but right now could you get the loader to move all the food from the truck into the Camel Pantry?”

“Sure,” said Bill.

Janet added, “I bought something for you too, Bill…it’s in the Truck.”

S>G004 4/1/19

As Bill hobbled back to the entrance, he thought to himself how lucky he was that Janet wasn’t angry at him for disintegrating her camel. He hoped the present she got for him wasn’t heavy; the plasma rock melter was the heaviest thing he could carry. In fact, now that his rage had subsided, he realized how much pain he was in, and set down the gun before he went outside. He got there and blinked in the sunlight for a minute, wondering where the truck was, when he heard a stainless steel door slam
shut behind him.

“You melted Zelda,” Janet said from the balcony. “We’re through! I’m finding a man who can love me, my 4 billion dollars, AND my camels!” She went inside.

“Augh, what will I do?” Thought Bill. “We’re surrounded by miles and miles of desert. The nearest place is that little Western style town forty miles away.”

A Lego set crashed at his ankles. Another landed on his head. His scalp started bleeding. He stumbled over it and landed on his coccyx again.

“Janet, please,” he said.

“I’m not listening,” her voice called. “And I’ve got the plasma cannon aimed at your heart. Get out.”

Bill sighed and started walking.

G>S005 4/1/19

Soon the sound of a vehicle approaching could be heard.  With the desert mirage effects, he couldn’t tell what it was.  Then it got closer.  It was Janet.  She hollered to Bill, “APRIL FOOL!”

Bill said, “Huh?”

Janet said, “I don’t know how you could think that the Camels could be more important than you!”

“But,” said Bill.

“But nothing,” said Janet, “if you had been more observant you might have noticed the Giant Lego set that I bought for you in the truck.”

“You scared the hell out of me Janet…I thought you might even melt me with the Plasma Cannon.”

“Pretty good April Fools Joke huh?” said Janet. “Hop in so we can get back and corral the Camels in the new room you built for them…Two of the Camels ate all of the soap I just made in my Craft room, and one of them spit soap bubbles and bit me, so I think that corral was a real timely good idea.”

Janet applied gauze to Bill’s head, which had cauterized in the desert sun.

Janet said, “I am sorry I was so angry, but I was bitten by a scorpion when I got back, and the poison made me nuts for a short while.”

“Time for Ganja Janet?”

“Absolutely Bill, fire up Billy Bong when we get back.”

 

The End

The Stone Cold Killer

 

I once took three men down with a single plastic drinking straw. I am the real deal. A stone cold killer.

I have assassinated fourteen people in my line of work. I terminated another ten just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Recently, I nearly died from being ill prepared. The target sent someone after me while my guard was down. I guess my name and face are starting to be known. I fought them off, but barely. Only luck saved me. I should have been better armed.

It’s alright now, though. I’ve sharpened my cuff links. I’ve got razor blades in my hair, grenades in my shoes, and a pistol up my ass. I am a walking arsenal. Nobody is catching me off guard again.

Oh shit I tripped.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

A fairy tale: The old man and his three daughters

 

Once there was a little old man who lived in the woods with his three daughters. As he lay dying, he called them over to his deathbed.
“I am dying,” he said. “I am sure one of you has poisoned me, but I don’t want you all to fight, so I’m not telling you which one it was.”
“He’s lying,” the eldest said. “He just wants us to fight.”
“I have a small treasure buried under the house,” he said. “There is only one way to determine the successor. You must fight.”
“Goddammit, dad,” the eldest said. “Why is it always this?”
“Give a dying man his wish,” the father insisted.
“I’ll fight,” said the youngest daughter, who was the sweetest and most beautiful (anyone who’s ever read a fairy tale knows that the youngest child is always the best and most enabling child). “Since it is what father wishes.”
“Oh my god, what kind of man is she going to marry?” The eldest groaned.
“Okay,” said the middle to the youngest. “You and me. Let’s scrap.”
“Thank you, my children,” said the father. “Please, someone make popcorn. As a dying-wish favor?”
There was a throwdown. Hair flew, blood flew, molars flew. The youngest nearly lost an eye. The middle broke her arm. After a bitter struggle, the middle child triumphed.
She dug where the father pointed and pulled a purse from the dirt.
“A dollar thirty-eight. Really, dad?”
But the old man was already dead, a faint smile on his face.
“At least we were able to give him some joy before he died,” the youngest said piously.
“I hate my life,” said the eldest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Failed to write a love story

 

I don’t like romance novels. It’s the one genre I despise. I like a good romance, but not the formula Harlequin stuff. Boring. Easy.
I thought, well, if I’m so cocky, if love stories are so easy, then write one. So… I tried.

Enjoy the failure.

 


 

Daymond looked through the slats of his blinds at the neighbor across the street. She was walking around without a shirt again. Didn’t she think anyone could see her? He turned away. But even after he went to sleep, the image of her followed him into his dreams.

The doorbell rang. Ugh, it was early. He dragged himself from bed, bleary-eyed, pathetic, and answered the door in just his tattered pajama pants.
It was her.
He scooched his lower half behind the door to hide his shameful attire. He always took care in how he dressed, doubly so around her. The pants were an embarrassment.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning, and merry Christmas!” she said, her bright morning energy entering his brain through his eyeballs and burning a channel straight to the back of his skull.
She handed him a bag of cookies tied off with a bow. Cute. Distressingly colorful. Dear God what time was it. He stared at the bag and tried to remember what the etiquette was, was it even Christmas? What planet was this again?
“Ah, I’m sorry,” she said, her face falling. “Did I wake you up?”
“Huh? Oh, y…yes… no. It’s fine, I was just getting up anyway.”
“I’ll let you get dressed then. Sorry!”
She gave him another blinding smile and trotted back to her house.
Get dressed?
She thought he’d answered the door nude? She had the gall to treat him like HE was the nudist? He would burn those pants as soon as possible. They were ten times more mortifying than he’d originally thought.
He shut the door and put the cookies on the kitchen table. Cinnamon and ginger fragrance eked through the cellophane. They were so cute.
He reran the conversation in his mind… he’d forgotten to thank her. How rude he’d been!
He cleaned himself up properly, took his time. Showered, shaved, brushed, put on one of his nicer shirts. She wouldn’t think him a scruffy nudist after this.
Knocking on her door was scarier than he’d expected.
“Just a minute!” She called through the door.
When she did answer, she was dripping wet, in a towel. Just out of the shower. She smelled like coconut and jasmine. The towel was only barely big enough to cover her generous assets.
“I, uh… sorry, was this a bad time?”
“Not at all!” She replied. She looked genuinely happy to see him.
Her breasts were smashed into perfect cleavage under the weight of her arm. Her legs were so long, so long, and they ran all the way up to the edge of the towel… oh dear God. He was getting a little too happy to see her, as well. Why was she always parading like this? Wasn’t she cold? Didn’t she realize what she was doing??
“Thank you. For the cookies! I realized I’d forgotten to say thank you.”
Don’t look down, don’t draw attention to it, hold her gaze. He had to get out of here quick before she noticed. At least his pants were the loose kind. But what was that draft?
She noticed. Her jaw dropped.
The draft… he looked down. He’d neglected to zip his fly. All that care in dressing and he’d left his zipper open. Or maybe it’d come down as he walked?
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Mr. Happy had poked his head out and wanted to thank her, too.
His face bright red, he hastily tucked it all back in and down and zipped everything into place. But the damage had been done.
“That was an accident, I swear! I didn’t know…” what? That his fly was open? That she’d answer the door in full sex kitten mode?
He choked on his words. Never again could he talk to her. He couldn’t even look her in the eye. He was going to be her #MeToo story forever.
In shame he fled her front porch and hurried back to his house.
“Wait!” She called.
To his horror, she ran out of the door after him in her towel. Everything bounced.
“Wait!” She caught up to him in the middle of the street. “It’s not a big deal, really.”
She got off on it. The sexual power. What else could explain her behavior?
He still couldn’t look at her.
“Did you try the cookies?” She asked. Was she actually trying to start a new conversation?
“Um, not yet… they smelled good. Listen, you’re not dressed, don’t you want to go inside?”
She looked confused. “Oh, I have a towel on, it’s fine. I just didn’t want you to leave like that.”
“You don’t think I’m some kind of pervert?”
She beamed another one of her smiles at him. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“Oookay. I’m going home now. Nice knowing you.”
“Wait?”
“What FOR?” That came out harsher than he’d intended, but this was torture.
“Come back into my house. Try a cookie.”
“Wait… you are the pervert here? You’ve been trying to seduce me all along!”
“There are cookies at my house…”
She grabbed him by his shirt front and led him back into her house. He was never heard from again.

 


 

Well, I don’t know much but I know that’s not love. A distinct lack of sweetness, haha. Awkward boners tend to overwhelm a romance. Well, I’ll just have to keep trying until I get one right. Let that be a lesson to me.

I still don’t like dime romance novels though.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

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