Clearing the cobwebs, part I


Over the years I have kept notes about things that I find interesting or might want to write a story about. I have files with several half-finished and half-baked tales (including one about my cats that I can’t believe I haven’t finished yet). I have stacks of articles for research into even more narratives and then … and then I have the scribbles on assorted napkins, thoughts scrawled on scraps, and musings that festoon (I LOVE that word) my desktop calendar pad.

It is the latter I will be confining myself to this time.

Just so you know—if you didn’t—the latter is the last thing in a list just given. The former is the first in that list.

That’s how I remember it anyway. Latter starts with “L” like Last. Former starts with “F” like First.

Now … what screwed-up word starting with “M” denotes the middle thing?

How about “Mortar”? It kind of sounds like “former” and “latter” and brick mortar holds things together—so it should fit for lists too.

Anyway, presented here today are the lazy bits of mental flotsam and jetsam that I think are funny, but can’t really be counted on to hold up an entire story.

The newspaper I work at was doing a Memorial Day spread and the editor said, “At least we’ll be patriotic”.

I replied, “Or at least act like it …

… Patriot Act …

… get it?”

Everyone else in the office is now looking into Keith-canceling headphones.

I am definitely PRO-crastination.

Ever decide you have to poop in the middle of a pee?

Weird question, I know.

Of course this doesn’t really affect the womenfolk. They’re already sitting down.

A guy who is peeing and decides “Hey, something has worked loose in there”, has to stop peeing (a hit or miss proposition at best—trust me, I have cleaned a toilet), then sit down and do some paperwork.

If you are at a urinal, the question becomes moot. Do I stop then go find a stall? Depends on the urgency.

If you have stood in a line just to get to the urinal and this dilemma occurs, you are kinda screwed.

Okay, I probably could have stretched this into a complete story … but this has most likely taken some people’s tolerance for potty humor a bit far already.

Whose idea was it to

stick an “S” in “Lisp”?

I had faithfully loaded the Reflections (our archive stories) onto The Sun’s website for five weeks in a row. I was putting them in there the way I was supposed to—but they weren’t showing up. Where did they go? I had no idea that I was sending those poor articles straight to electronic purgatory.

If a robot read radio news, would that be an “Artificial


I came up with a phrase I kinda liked a while back. Some people were talking while I was working on something. When they turned and asked my opinion I related that I hadn’t really been listening and had only “Heard it out of the corner of my ear”. They got a kick out of that.

I have managed to

torture my memory foam insoles into a state

of Alzheimers.

I was introduced to a stingy butcher I was hiring for a get-together.

I guess you could say I “met the man who was to mete the meat at the meet.”

If you shed a tear

every time you close one eye at someone,

is that the

“leakest wink”?

We were talking about people with limited information (or intelligence) but with very loud opinions on a subject when Liz (our editor) said, “An empty barrel makes the most noise.” I like that.

If you build a house out of trees just

to go have deep

conversations in,

is that a

“Dialog Cabin”?

Is a reporter who constantly pens about corruption and injustice just there to “write some wrongs”?

According to cartoons,

banana peels are the slipperiest substance in the world.

I was walking backwards while planting again. I was receding while I was reseeding.

Is Mike short for Micycle?

There was a test for attention-deficit available online the other day. I couldn’t even finish the ad.

I want to start

my obituary with: “After winning his long battle with life …”

I am constantly annoyed by the incorrect use of “there”, “they’re”, and “their” so I came up with a sentence that may help: Those two there, they’re too much to bear, what with their airs.

Why is it that as

you get older,

your ears keep

getting bigger

and working less?

Shortly after I handed Sarah (a coworker at the Sun) a column I had written, she giggled.

“Aha, I made her giggle!” I exclaimed gleefully.

I was feeling pretty self-satisfied when she replied, “I wasn’t giggling about the story, I was laughing about how long it was.”

It’s amazing how quickly glee can flee.

I have decided

not to remain sane. It doesn’t help


These are a few of the rambling one-line type things that have cluttered my mind for a while now. Maybe getting rid of some of this mental baggage will help me focus on some good, solid future writing.

If you have read any of my previous writings, you are aware this is not real likely though.


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