David Archives

November 8, 2006

David: Never Tell Me The Odds

“Hey, Honey, let’s go dancing.”

“Dancing? Charles, you hate dancing. Do you even know how?”

Charles flashed back to the car accident, his legs crushed within twisted metal. The pitying looks of the nurses when they thought he wasn’t looking. The weeks in traction, months in a wheelchair. The agony of physical therapy.

They said it would be a miracle if he ever walked again, even on crutches. They said it would take an act of God to end the pain. They suggested amputation as the easy way out.

He kneaded the carpet with his toes. “I’ll figure it out.”

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November 9, 2006

David: Never Did Run Smooth

“Hey,” Marco exclaimed, “what happened to the lights?”

Tina replied, “Did the power go out?”

Marco considered. “No, the stereo is still playing, so we have juice. And the odds of a freak wind blowing out both candles at the exact same moment every light bulb in the room burned out is pretty small, I expect.”

Tina reached out, trying to find Marco by touch. “Oh, God. I’m frightened.” She knocked over what sounded like a wine glass. “Why did this happen?”

“I don’t know. All I did was tell you that I love you.”

“Marco…”

“Polo.”

“That’s not funny.”

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November 10, 2006

David: Julia Child She Ain't

The stench hit me the moment I entered the house. My eyes started watering. My throat clenched itself shut in self-defense.

“Honey?” I called out.

“Yes dear?” she replied from the other room.

“What the hell happened in here? It smells like someone stuffed a skunk inside a dead hobo and set them on fire.” I gasped, sucking in teaspoons of fetid air. I fought the impulse to turn around and flee my reeking house.

My beloved walked in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “I thought you liked my skunk-stuffed hobo cannibal flambé surprise.”

"Meatloaf again?"

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November 13, 2006

David: Epidemic

“Watson, I’ve done it! I’ve isolated an entirely new form of disease!”

“Good for you.”

“Although its symptoms are psychological, it can nevertheless result in physical death. It removes all impulse for aggression from the victim, and renders such impulses repellent, possibly painful.”

“And that’s fatal?”

“The fascinating part is that it’s transmitted mimetically. It’s not so much a virus as the idea of a virus.”

“Is there a cure?”

“Theoretically, a counter-meme could immunize the patient, perhaps something about righteous self-defense. But one symptom is the rejection of such counter-ideas.”

“Have you named it?”

“I’ll call it, ‘U.N.’s Syndrome.’”

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November 14, 2006

David: The Thinker

I was sitting on the toilet when I suddenly realized that, if time is relative, and time and space are inextricably intertwined, then space must itself be relative, thus implying that size, dimension, and location are all, in large part, a matter of opinion, which, when combined with the notion from quantum dynamics that no particle exists in any definite point in space-time, but rather as a probability field centered at what are commonly considered to be the coordinates of that object’s location, meant that I should be able to reach the toilet paper in the cabinet without standing up.

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November 27, 2006

David: All It's Worth

“Oh, and since you’re going to the store anyway, could you get some aspirin? My head, it aches so.”

“Your head?! Why—“

The young woman’s husband interrupted. “Certainly, ma’am. It’s the least we could do, considering. But you’re sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

The old woman smoothed the comforter. “Do you think I should?” she asked sweetly. “I’d hate to have to explain about your sidewalk not being salted. Lawyers would get involved, and all that bother.”

Between clenched teeth, the younger woman growled, “So, aspirin?”

“And some magazines. And could you turn up the heat?”

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November 29, 2006

David: The Evil Overlord's Guide To Dating

Dark Lord Darkitty Dark of Darkness (Fred to his friends) looked down on planet Earth with disdain from the safety of his secret moon base.

“DeMonica, my love, come join me at the view port.”

“Why must you be so preoccupied with that wretched world?” she asked as she slinked to his side and pressed herself to him. Below, the Eurasian continent stared back at them.

He held up a remote and pushed the red button on it.

Nuclear explosions erupted simultaneously across the globe, spelling out, “DeMonica, Happy Anniversary!” in flames and death.

“Oh, Fred,” she cooed. “For me?”

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November 30, 2006

David: Movie Trivia

Norman’s mother stabbed the naked woman in the shower again and again. She felt the shock of impact shoot up her arm with every stroke. She heard the terrified screams of the harlot who had tried to tempt her dear boy into sin. Her stupid, weakling son.

And yet, she couldn’t focus. Each time she brought down the knife, her attention was distracted: the water spitting out of the shower head; the rings on the shower curtain snapping one by one as the strumpet pulled it down with her; the blood swirling into the drain, like so much chocolate syrup.

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December 1, 2006

David: So Much Doubt, So Little Benefit

“Help! I’m Being Held Prisoner In A Spam Factory!” Okay, that one’s pretty good. I’ll give it thirty seconds.

click

“Thank God you opened this! I’m risking my life trying to slip this in among the Viagra ads, penis enlargement offers, offshore porn sites Absolutely Free! Sign Up Now And Receive—

“Sorry, they were watching. I need help. Not for myself. It’s too late for me. For my daughter, in your country to escape this horror. She needs money. I can’t send it directly, or they will find her. Give me your bank account information, and I will deposit—“

delete

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December 4, 2006

David: Truly, He Was An Inspiration To Us All

“You’re mad, Doctor Frankenstein!”

Struggling against his bonds, Frankenstein ranted, “Mad?! You dare call me mad? I, the greatest genius in the history of modern medicine? I, who stitched together human flesh exhumed from graves? I, who inserted into the skull of my creation the brain of one of the greatest geniuses in the history of something other than modern medicine? I, who, with a bolt wrestled from the heart of the storm, succeeded in bringing this patchwork of tissues back from death itself? For this miracle of science you call me mad?”

Frankenstein shrugged. “You may have a point.”

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