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November 14, 2007

Wednesday

One word topic: Slime

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The archeology professor trudged over. "Show me what you've found," he said, wondering which Lost City they'd found: New York, maybe even Boston?

The students made a ta-dah gesture toward a mummified corpse, its clothes long since turned to dust. "I know which city we found." Without further ado, he tapped a small hole into the corpse. A jet-black sludge oozed forth. "We've found dozens just like it. Sir... I think we've found Washington DC itself."

The professor gasped at the wonder of it. "What makes you say that?"

"Empty shells filled with slime? This place was filthy with politicians!"

Posted by: LJ at November 14, 2007 10:23 AM · Permalink

Slime Ball

They met by chance at the laundry-mat. She was a graduate student in human services at the university, preparing for a career in social work. She just wanted to help people. She really was that kind of person.

He ran the fryer at the local fast-food joint, a promotion from cleaning up spilled kid's meals and mopping the slimy restrooms. He told her he was a physician's assistant who volunteered as a Big Brother and served turkey at the city homeless shelter on holidays.

By the time she suggested exchanging phone numbers, he was already thinking about exchanging bodily fluids.

Posted by: John Sheirer at November 14, 2007 10:41 AM · Permalink

Dirty Kids

Your children are ugly. I’ve seen you watch the smallest one pick his slimy nose and eat it, saying nothing. Their socks are mismatched, their hair matted from sleep, and they refuse to wear band-aids so they can pick their scabs. The bruises up and down their legs fade into a murky yellow yet never disappear, and they proudly show off the dirt caught under their fingernails. If you don’t know how to keep a man, don’t keep having his children. If you had just listened, done what he told you, he wouldn’t have left you with those dirty kids.

Posted by: Tara Lazar at November 14, 2007 5:47 PM · Permalink