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June 2, 2005

Volume 2, Issue 2

Since I'm new at this, I thought I'd go with a picture. Pictures are simple and non-threatening, right? Of course they are.

So let's see what you do with this:

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Comments

Asparagam stood, staring off into space, a tear running down his chlorophyll-stained face.

It had been a hellish season. So many of his family cut off in the prime of their lives. Flayed. Stuffed into the brightly colored body bags, then trundled off into cryogenic storage.

But he could not weep for them. That was…forbidden.

It was in the contract. The hellish clothing, perversely constructed of stinging nettles. The omnipresent shit-eating grin. It was all there in green and white. He was sworn to obey.

Just the same, he thought, can’t the Jolly Green Giant weep for his lost children?

Posted by: Elisson at June 2, 2005 4:32 AM · Permalink

Sarah was ecstatic when Luther said they were going to Germany this summer. It was a sign of their relationship becoming more serious, she thought. Then Luther mentioned his lifelong dream when they arrived: street performance. She thought it would be romantic; maybe they'd sing for an afternoon. But no... he had something far more involved planned. Now the week was over, and all she'd seen was one street corner.

Sarah sighed and flicked her cigarette with disgust. "The bastard used my credit card for this, I bet. Jen better have the locks changed for me when I get back."

Posted by: Johnny Catbird at June 2, 2005 5:19 AM · Permalink

The children were the worst. The small ones look at you with fear and distrust, like I really am a big green monster, instead of an out of work actor trying to pick up small change from the passersby. The adults might smile and give me a coin, but their eyes never let their true thoughts and emotions break the surface. The older children’s faces show plainly what they are thinking. “Loser”. “Get a real job”. “My daddy has a real job, so I never have gone to bed hungry like your loser children do”. Oh, the shame of it.

Posted by: joe at June 2, 2005 6:36 AM · Permalink

How many times do I have to tell you to stop using my old photo albums!

I swear, I was just experimenting! Experimenting, I tell you!

I need a drink.

Posted by: Laurence Simon at June 2, 2005 6:44 AM · Permalink

The tree had breathed for the first time two weeks ago.

The changes had occurred gradually over hundreds of years as the city grew around him. Forces he didn’t understand twisted and tore molecules, reforming them into something entirely new. In a final overnight burst of development, observed only by a drunkard on a nearby bench, his bark had morphed into skin, his limbs into arms.

Now, he had eyes! The colors would have made him swoon, were he not still rigid.

With tremendous effort, he rolled his eyes slightly downward to behold his new form.

I’m a fucking hippie?

Posted by: Hubris at June 2, 2005 7:16 AM · Permalink

"Guy! Why isn't anyone looking at me? I'm, like, totally hot today. Like, look at the way I'm holding my cigarette. It's, like, totally sensual and cool. I've got my arm casually crossed perfectly to push up my tits. Like, I'm even totally standing under an arrow! Every day I stand out here next to Gary, but none of the guys will come up and talk to me. Don't they know there's, like, this demographic decline?"

Heidi never realized that Gary's silence and extreme costumes were not art, but passive aggressive attempts to get her to shut the fuck up.

Posted by: marc at June 2, 2005 7:21 AM · Permalink

Are we limited to one a day? Because I'm pretty sore ashamed right now.

Posted by: marc at June 2, 2005 7:22 AM · Permalink

They don't look like much, do they?

The enemies of Germany know better, for they are DIE VERTEIDIGER! --
Fotosynthesemann and his sidekick, Zigarettenrauchen-Jugendzuschauer-Mädchen!
(Otherwise known as Eva.)

Goering's clone army? The Red Menaces from Karl-Marx-Stadt? The
Eurovision Song Contest? All defeated by modern Germany's greatest heroes.

Their greatest triumph? Stopping the Centauri Greys' 1978 invasion.
The alien soldiers died amist Fotosynthesemann's Tangled Web, and Eva's
Puff of Dissolving and Stare of Boredom tore their saucers to bits.

The government covered it up, of course, but Fotosynthesemann and
Eva don't mind -- they're content to hide and wait, until the next episode.

Posted by: Randy Shane at June 2, 2005 7:45 AM · Permalink

Post as many as you want, Marc.

Posted by: michele at June 2, 2005 7:48 AM · Permalink

Standing upon his stump in splendid glory. The man thought this was best way to express his sheer brillance of nature's beauty. The corner picked outside a cathedral would be ideal to display his oddity.

Raising from the stump in a growth of natural beauty. Standing amist all the ugly in the world. Sprouting forth bringing color into the darkened creases of the world. There is hope that the signal will reach the nether worlds. They will come, you just wait and see. I am the one they will chose.

Little green men do exist if you look hard enough.

Posted by: Jade at June 2, 2005 7:56 AM · Permalink

I'm Jim's other half. I was given a challenge to comment. Wanted to clear
that up so you don't think he suffers from
MPD.

I must say counting those words out 10 times before posting the story was annoying. I should have browsed a bit more then I would have found the "check before you post" word counter! ;)

Posted by: Jade at June 2, 2005 7:59 AM · Permalink

Powerful men built the cathedral directly over the Heart of the Forest centuries ago. An uneasy truce has long existed between the True Believers and followers of the new religion. Even through the Dark Ages, True Believers could covertly enter the cathedral and worship the Heart – from time to time.

Then the changes came. The True Believers were no longer welcome.

Hans Haaksen, High Priest of the True Believers chants the Holy Words for his meager flock and the passers-by.

Hans finishes the service the way he always does. He carefully enunciates each word. “Cardinal Grafteim, Tear Down This Wall.”

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at June 2, 2005 8:07 AM · Permalink

I understand that cigarettes are bad for you. But what was that you were saying about having only two weeks of vacation a year would increase the productivity of this country and increase our standard of living. How can you compare six weeks on the beach at Canne with an extra one hundred square meters of living space? I know priorities must be set and I am happy with my set of priorities. You capitalists amaze me, always thinking of the bottom line and never a stop to smell the roses.
What is this? Mother Earth has a Vandyke beard?

Posted by: Blaine at June 2, 2005 8:26 AM · Permalink

As the end of the agreed upon time drew near, everyone agreed that the cultural exchange with the Zigmundis of Faerielon VI (there were actually only two planets in their system, but low self-esteem caused them to list their homeworld sixth) had gone very well. Many things were learned and shared between the two vastly different worlds who were finding that maybe those differences weren't so vast after all. For one thing, both cultures highly valued humor. However, the people of Earth were getting mighty tired of the Zigmundis' obsession with the "I can see your house from here" joke.

Posted by: marc at June 2, 2005 8:39 AM · Permalink

It’s a lot harder than it looks. Standing perfectly still. Though after months of practice I’ve become pretty good at it.

The costume itches. And sometimes the pressure is more than I can bear.

I remember when Bill talked me into doing this gig. He said I was perfect for the part. I must admit that my acting career wasn’t going anywhere so I jumped at the opportunity. Besides, this would be my chance to tour Europe. Not that I’ve seen much of it!

But at least tomorrow will be better than today. Tomorrow, Bill gets to be the stump!

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at June 2, 2005 8:39 AM · Permalink

What’s the world’s coming to?

I was just starting the third form and really getting into my surroundings when they showed up wearing black turtlenecks, sunglasses, berets – sell-outs.

It took me a while to realize what they were doing. I’m not overly conscious of my personal space, so I didn’t mind when they added the ivy and flowers, and I thought the green tint was fun. But then they hauled me into the city and propped me up on a fake tree stump. Not cool.

I’d climb down, but people are watching now and I don’t want to look silly.

Posted by: Keiran Halcyon at June 2, 2005 8:40 AM · Permalink

Bolinas, California is notorious for its antipathy towards tourists. The “Welcoming Committee” removes street signs to frustrate the non-locals. The grocery store posts a sign reading “Tomb of the Unknown Tourist” in front of a cavernous hole in the sidewalk.

So driving through the town this weekend, past the fading “Dean for President” signs, I wasn’t too shocked to see all of the markers now in German. What did surprise me was the public production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” and the inclusion of tourists in the cast. Puck pointed his staff at me and declared “We have our Lysander…”.

Posted by: Chrees at June 2, 2005 9:25 AM · Permalink

One more cigarette. Then I'm gone.

He's not even that cute. What's the time? 4:30. He said 3:45. Damn.

How many times does that make? Next time I'll tell him to go fuck himself. I will.

There go some tourists. Watch their eyes, are they looking? Fuck. Not a glance. Don't they see? If they don't see, then maybe I am bugfuck. Like mom. Fuck.

He's not coming. Doesn't matter. Maybe everyone's ignoring the green man because they think they might be crazy, too. Maybe. I won't sleep tonight unless someone takes some notice before I go.

One more cigarette.

Posted by: Jeff R. at June 2, 2005 9:26 AM · Permalink

After a half century of seeing himself as a ho ho ho for money, Emmanuel Herschowitz, who had worked his way up from the inner city of Belgrade, New Hamshire to theogonous classification as a true god in advertising as the Jolly Green Giant would no longer lie. Yes, he was gay, let the sprouts fall where they may. His contract was dropped immediately, then with the weight loss came the AIDS rumors, the news of his affair with Tom Bombadil, the rumors he had once eaten Alfalfa on the set of Little Rascals, but come what may, he was free.

Posted by: Jon at June 2, 2005 11:15 AM · Permalink

When the divorce from Steve came through I traveled.

And thought about Larry, my college boyfriend.

I wander into a street faire with “What if’s” playing through my brain like a commercial jingle. What if we hadn’t argued? What if I had stopped Larry before he stomped out? What if I look him up and see if he’s single?

The music brings me out of my reverie and I notice him. The joker of the faire, painted green, outfitted in flowers, he heckles the crowd.

Larry.

I stub out my cigarette and walk away, the “what if’s” now silent.

Posted by: Darleen at June 2, 2005 12:55 PM · Permalink

oh crud

I corrected my story in the wrong box!

The sentence should read "... and see if he's still single"

makes it an even 100.

Posted by: Darleen at June 2, 2005 1:02 PM · Permalink

Sarah was one of three people in town who actually liked the statue. It had been carved centuries ago, some local saint who everyone called Gregory. No one actually knew of any local saints, or even any legends of local saints, but a travelling artist had one too many ales and woke up the next morning with a vision. Well, two, but between a psuedo-saint and a dancing elephant the saint seemed more appropriate. Much more tasteful. Sarah sighed and threw down her cigarette. After a certain age, there's a pride in the small village to owning even bad art.

Posted by: Alex at June 2, 2005 7:01 PM · Permalink