Ted Archives

September 22, 2005

Ted: Happy Trails

This site used to be a commune. They used to grow their own food, raised chickens and ducks, believed in free love, and only used rain water; but never to bathe in let me tell ya'. The last one here was a hairy older woman who dressed up and wore a nice sun dress on closing day. But she still didn't shave. You could see her leg and pit hair. Great negotiator though. Said she would only sell if we named the place "Happy Trails" in memory of all the great rides. I didn't even know they had any horses.

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September 24, 2005

Ted: The Three Hundred

Surrender? Never. The rest can capitulate, go home, but here we shall stand. We will fight in the very shade of arrows. We shall hold here.

The tale shall grow in the telling. The shame felt by others who abandonned their fates will be the looking glass to our final struggle. History calls to us, beckoning, beseeching, aching for heroes. The sand will drink our blood and our names will be forgotten. But that we stood together never shall be. That we held this pass will live for generations; your sons will tell their sons that you stood at Thermopylae.

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September 26, 2005

Ted: Feeding the Stadium

No way out. Again. I may have to rethink this whole super-hunter lifestyle one of these days. Really, what does it matter that my family has served the Chair for hundreds of years. Sometimes it is just too much to ask. Last time, I only got out by sacrificing a toe. This time, they want a little more. What will it be? An arm, maybe. At least then I could retire. Oh, shit, that was close. Sorry lads, you can't have THAT. I still need to sire another generation don't I? Sometimes it sucks being the damn Chairman's ingredient collector.

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September 27, 2005

Ted: Cheated

A witch, a skeleton, and a ghost walk into a bar. The barkeep looks up from his racing form and says "We don't serve your kind in here."
The witch transforms herself into a beautiful, young blonde. "That's better," he says. The ghost turns invisible. "Keep out of sight and don't bother anybody, and it'll be ok." The barkeep looks to the skeleton. The skeleton shrugs and falls into a loose pile of bones on the floor. The barkeep looks at the witch and says "Why did it do that? Now what?"

Don't you hate when you forget the punchline?

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September 28, 2005

Ted: Cutting Room Floor

"Why in the hell did he think he could get away with this?! Who the hell is this Shoemaker guy! The jockey, I thought he was dead!"

"Our legal department explained this to you before you signed the contract. Joel is a very good director."

"Has he ever done this kind of this of picture before?"

"Nobody EVER has. That's why we brought in Joel. He has the creativity..."

"Bullshit. If he's so creative how did 'The Night In Georgia When It Was Hot' with me, ME!, playing the crossdressing pirate get turned into 'Captain Susan and His Drunken Imaginings'?!"

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September 29, 2005

Ted: Oh, What a Web

Miss Spider was tired of the tea parties, the flowers, everything that had to do with her goody-eight-shoes image. What she really wanted was meat. She didn't remember how to build a web so she used some carpet glue she had left over from her remodel. She traced out a lovely web design on the floor to her parlor, really adding the Martha touch. She set out some kahlua, the sweet smell attracting a male spider. At once, she realized she wanted his meat, bad. Deed done, she bit off his head and laid her eggs in his body, satisfied.

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September 30, 2005

Ted: The Tickler

Miss Ginger, my childhood babysitter, had the most amazing ability. She could tickle a child from across a room, never even touching him. All she had to do to was use her special tickling voice and say "I'm gonna getcha with my tickle finger" and we would crack up laughing. She could even sneak up behind us, just say the words, and we would be helpless.

Years later, we all came to realize that this was not babysitting at all, but systematic torture. We killed her, buried her in the woods, and ate her fingers charbroiled with a nice lambrusco.

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October 2, 2005

Ted: Blow me, a Kiss

For the first time in twenty years, Herman knew exactly where and when his tormentors would be. All he had to do was bribe the chef.

Herman drove to the venue in his Maybach. His years of plotting had paid well and his third novel had shredded the small town's high school society. The movie came out Christmas Eve.

When the lights went out after dinner, only Herman knew why. The speciality cake rolled out with a personalized candle for every member of his class. Herman sent the baker a bonus the next day. The ass and lips were perfect.

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October 4, 2005

Ted: Annual Event

I looked at the rest of the field and thought I was done for. The sprinters took off like rockets, blazing the trail for the long distance runners. Then came me, and a couple of others, in the "differently enabled" category. Me with my prosthetics. SHE was watching, so I tried to have a good race. Since I had gone back up the hill, I only saw her on race day, so I couldn't NOT compete.

I heard her voice through the crowd, "Run, Edward, RUN!" and realized I had taken the lead and was being chased by townies, again.

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October 5, 2005

Ted: Run for the Border

Fucking Americans. Si, si. I know this is a debrief and I should be calm. I know I should have been able to blend in with the migrants. Why couldn't I? Because all they cared about was getting more greenbacks to send home, dammit! No sense of pride, no national fervor, not interested in returning the land to Mexico. When Jefe got killed, I knew this mission was a complete failure. I got paid for working the fields, yes. But it wasn't enough to pay for printing the handbills. I LET INS deport me. They sure as hell weren't looking.

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