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October 23, 2006

10.23.06

Tell us about the color (or something that is the color) yellow.

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Jim: BusTed

Ted groaned. Today he was assigned the Special Needs bus. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Big Bird hadn’t been painted on the side.

At his first stop were two very overweight little girls, both named Pattie.

A little boy waited at the next stop. “My name is Ross and I’m special,” the boy slurred his usual greeting.

Finally, there was the little country boy named Lester Cleese, with no shoes or socks. Poor Lester picked at his bunions the entire trip.

Ted loathed driving two obese Patties, special Ross, Lester Cleese picking bunions on a Sesame Street bus.

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David: The Old Oak

“So, a yellow ribbon means she wants you back?” asked the bus driver.

The ex-con nodded. “This route passes by the park where we met. That tree means a lot to us.”

“And if there’s no ribbon?” asked a lady in the first row.

“I’ll stay on the bus, forget about us, put the blame on me.” He closed his eyes as the bus turned a corner. “Here it comes. I can’t look. Is it there?”

No one spoke. He peeked.

“Where’s the tree?” he exclaimed. “It was right there!”

“Oh, that tree. Someone set it on fire last week.”

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Stacy: Colorful

Red was pissed.

"Why am I the color of anger?" he muttered. "Look at me… I'm gorgeous! On flowers, I set hearts aflutter! On underwear, I positively sizzle!"

"Oh, shut up," groaned Blue. "How much longer can you complain about this? Just look at me... I'm the color of depression, for fuck's sake.”

Red grumped. “Whatever. I need a change, to go in a completely different direction.”

“Call Yellow,” suggested Blue. “I hear he’s kinda bored with himself, too. His number is 565-590.”

“A switch, an alteration, a metamorphosis!” mused Red.

"Well?" snapped Blue. "Orange you going to call him?"

Read more from Stacy's .

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Ted: Brighthouse Is A Bunch Of Yellow Bastards

He waited on hold for an hour, he even timed it. He got transferred to six people who didn't have a clue about customer service.

The appointment for "sometime between 8 and 11 am" passed had over five hours ago before the tech finally arrived.

The tech, this time at least, knew that he had to do unplug the cable from the junction box located 2 houses up the block.

The homeowner stared as the tech went two doors down the other way and repeated the process.

Try getting Brighthouse to admit they are wrong, though, and you'll see red.

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Michele: Faded

The edges of the photo had curled and left a sticky, yellow residue on the page.

The whole page had a yellowish tint to it.

Even the photo had faded and the sky, the grass, his skin were all tinged yellow.

Not the yellow of sunshine.

It was a yellow of secrets and things hidden and people forgotten.

She peeled the photo out of the album. Ran her finger along his face. Yellowed flakes of film fluttered around her finger.

She always meant to call him. To say she was sorry.

But she was still too much of a coward.

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From The Comments: Iaieanna

“Oooh…it’s so bright and yellow!”

“Do we see color?”

“Well it’s still bright and warm.”

“It’s always bright and warm when it’s out. It’s the sun, for goodness sake. Now get back to work. We have a lot of food to take in.”

“But doesn’t it seem extra warm and bright this time? Like God is smiling down on us.”

“Well, I’ll admit it does seem extra warm. That’s a little odd. I don’t remember it usually this hot.”

“Oh no, you’re on fire!”

“So are you!”

“Aaaahhhh!”

The boy laughed and tucked his magnifying glass back into his pocket.

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