The illustrious and stunningly-prolific Melanie has once again dipped her feathered implement in the inkwell, so to speak, and composed a tantalizing tale for us to peruse. (Said dipping was inspired by an array of story-prompts found here. Melanie chose Option 5 for this foray.) Herewith, a refreshing […]
Under the boardwalk, they might be havin’ some fun, but up top folks were running for their lives after Clarence made it quite clear that he was absent in etiquette class when they discussed gastro-intestinal disturbances… Previously published in “Crusty Pie”.
So many things I could say. So many things that I shouldn’t… Previously shared in “Crusty Pie”.
Meredith knew she had put it off long enough. She had hemmed. She had hawed. She had worked on things that didn’t need working, piddled with things that didn’t need piddling, and dicked with things that didn’t need dicking. She had even scrubbed all the toilets in the […]
Note: Feeling a bit nostalgic, so I thought I’d step back in time and excavate the initial run of “Past Imperfects” on my Crusty Pie blog. This was back when the “stories” were mere snippets, just a line or two, so things had a different flavor and didn’t […]
Detective: “Do you know why we called you down to the station?” Woman: “I have no idea. Is this something to do with the parking tickets? I really did mean to pay them, but I get distracted easily. I lived in Montana for a while and that messes […]
Claire stood on the back patio, undecided, trying to focus, trying to breathe. It was all simply too much to process, too much to consider. And she had to decide now? It was insane. This morning she had been unaware, concerned with nothing more than which packet of […]
Nothing fancy this time, with no delicate wordplay or overwrought poetry. Just a random photo, a three-part tribute to the works of Leroy Neiman, the consequences of traveling with plastic ducks, and an homage to Mutual of Omaha’s Somewhat Wild Kingdom. Enjoy. Greetings from Malaga, Spain. By […]
Bjorn, left: “Well, I hear that those wretched Americans are coming down out of the hills of Cómpeta and headed to Malaga.” Torvik, right: “Those words make me weep with inconsolable abandon. Why must they torture us so?” Bjorn: “Now, now. We have to give the poor things […]
With a final grunt of exertion and feathers, Pablo de Pato completed the guard tower of his new battlements atop a majestic mountain in the Vallejo de Cómpeta. As the mortar dried in the golden sun, he puffed his chest in pride at how his new battlements would […]