Monthly Archives: August 2017

Winging It

So, I’m just winging it here, there’s this guy.  Let’s call him Bob.

Bob’s not anti-social, just shy, thoughtful, nerdy, you know what I’m talking about.  Maybe a scientist, or a mechanical engineer.  No, wait, I got it: he’s a database administrator.  (Actually, his job isn’t really relevant.)

So, anyway, he sees this girl, I don’t know, not at a party (I don’t think he goes to parties very often).  Somewhere in public.  At the grocery store.  Yes.

So, he sees her, she’s trying to buy something, pears, yeah, but doesn’t know how to pick them.  Bob prides himself on his mad pear-selection skillz, so he helps her out.  They talk a little, joke around, it’s all good.  He’s a nerd, but he’s old enough to be able to fake some social skills.

Crap, I forgot to mention: she’s hot.  Like, smoking.  And smart, witty, fun, smells good, you name it, she got it.  I think her name starts with ‘J’, but I can’t remember it right now.  I don’t think that really matters to this story, anyway.  Total babe, though.

So, yeah, she gets her pears.  Bob then epically fails to even ask for her phone number, or to suggest that they should get together, hang out, get married and move to the suburbs.  He just smiles and says “See ya!” as she walks away.  In all fairness, his brain is so overwhelmed with random synaptic discharges that’s it’s pretty impressive that he can even get that much out without drooling or stuttering. Still, though, Bob.  You gotta at least try!

So, anyway, back to the story,  Bob goes home and cries himself to sleep.

The End.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

What? I never said it was going to be a happy story!


The little toad, made of stone, would sell his soul to be real.  To jump away from this shelf.  To be able to hop and catch flies and swim.  To find a fine looking lady toad and settle down on a lily pad.

Unfortunately, being made of stone means he has no soul to sell, and no buyers.

So there he sits, motionless, gathering dust, and dreaming.