Imagine if you will: You're an alien from some far off civilization that has mastered all the vast intricacies of interstellar travel. You have a mission in sight that you've spent years planning. Finally you're ready. You say goodbye to your loved ones. In your language it comes out as "blarg" overlaid with the sound of someone fisting wet play-Doh. You slowly, apprehensively turn your back to you wife, your children, reminding yourself that this mission is of the utmost importance. Your life's work. With misty eyes, yet no regret, you crawl into your spaceship, fire up the engines, and set about transversing the vast cosmos of this galaxy through the used of mind blowing technology that blows through an ridiculous amount of your planets resources. An eternity goes by. Countless light years are crossed, until finally you reach your destination. Earth.
You land your space craft in a place you're sure through your superior alien intuition none of these primitive Earth people will every find it. You're a fucking pro. You GOT this. Even though you'll never see your family again, you know they'll be proud. Tears line your cheeks; a salty blue mix with the consistency somewhere between jizz and oatmeal. You think of the statues that will be made in your honor. Your time approaches.
You find a small cave. This is it. The moment of your life. Everything has been leading to this one perfect second..
You hear a rustling followed by approaching shadows. A couple of these Earth creatures come into view. All seven of your alien hearts are pumping at full speed. This is going to be so fucking sweet.
The Earthings reach the cave.. They look inside. It's dark. They don't see you. Everything is going according to plan. This is it. This is your time to shine.
You jump out and make a bunch of weird noises as a flashlight exposes you completely. The earthlings take off running.
You did it! Everything went exactly as planned. The exhilaration of the moment is overwhelming. You bask in it. Let the all the conflicting emotions overtake you. It's pure bliss.
Hours go by. The adrenaline slowly subsides, leaving behind a tingling lust that reverberates throughout your entire body. Now that it's all over it feels as if a huge burden has been lifted. Your place in history is secure. You may now be the most accomplished being in all the known universe.
There's only one thing left to do. The Earthlings are gone, surely hiding somewhere far off, basking in terror-piss. There's no better time. With thoughts bitter sweet you take one last moment to reflect one your life; on all the long hours of planning with the greatest minds of your species; of the family you sacrificed for this.
Taking one final breath you bite down on a poisoned capsule that replaced one of you teeth. Right before your body ignites into a billion subatomic explosions, you smile. This was always meant to be a one way trip. Your body becomes flames. The flames become ash, quickly blow away by a gentle breeze, until no evidence remains...
No evidence, EXCEPT THIS:
Saturday, August 1, 2015
Perspective: You're sitting on the shore of a lake, wondering about the things you think normal people wonder about. It's calming. The waves are shallow. Parents with their children paddleboat on a calm meniscus of slightly brownish water. Maybe too brown. The ground below you is not quite sand and not quite dirt, but it's OK. A blue frilled and overly washed beach towel featuring a cartoonish, bikinied lady protects you from getting that all too familiar sand itch inside a bathing suit you never really expected to use in water you're pretty sure is two/thirds fish shit. Life is good.
That's when he finds you.
It's Jean Claude Van Damme. He has a puppy and a look of unbelievable shame written across his face. Did he just get finished fingering that puppy? You don't know, but it would explain a lot. In fact, it explains everything.
You're too afraid to ask, though. All you wanted was a nice relaxing day at the lake. What you got instead was a conundrum man was never meant to answer.
You look again. He's gone. Was he ever really there? You don't know.
Time passes. Life goes on. You get married. Have kids. But in the back of your mind he's always there. In every alley way, in every car that passes you on the highway. Van Damme fingering a puppy is in the face of every person you see.
Eventually, mercifully, you forget about it. Then one night you're walking home from a bar at 2 AM. You hear a noise behind you. You turn. That's when he strikes. He was waiting for you. You never had a chance. The spin kicks and testicle punches are relentless.
That's when you know, and maybe a part of you always knew: Van Damme fingering a puppy was meant to be the last thing you would ever see.
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Friday, January 9, 2015
There's nothing better than an overabundance of exclamation points to help jazz up that story of yours! I highly suggest using them as much as possible whether it makes sense to do so or not!
Let's face it, punctuation can be so drab these days! Periods are last weeks news and don't even get me started on question marks!
The great writer, F. Scott Fitzgerald, once said this on the subject, "Using exclamation points is like laughing at your own jokes."
...Wait, don't listen to him! What does he know!? Quick, off the top of your head, can you name 276 people who has read a piece of his work!?
Didn't think so!
If your instincts say use an exclamation point after a sentence like: "Bob sat down in his rocking chair!" or something equally mundane, then I say go for it and don't let anyone tell you different!
So remember, if there are more periods in your story than exclamation points, you're doing something wrong! And never use a question mark without one!? Example: Lovely sweater, is that a cardigan!? (See, that sentence made total sense and was not at all confusing!)
Oh shit! I got to go! My dog just got shot in the face! He's dead! My kids are going to cry for days!