Posted in fiction

MacBeth For Idiots

Hardmore College 1974

“Why am I even in his stupid play”? asked Roger. “I hate MacBeth”.

There were gasps from the other performers.


“You never say that word in the theater”!, exclaimed Pricilla. “It’s bad luck”.

“Yeah”, agreed Jim. “REALLY bad luck. You call it The Scottish Play. You just jinxed us BIG TIME”!

“That’s ridiculous”, he said. “How come I’ve never heard that before?… and jinx us how?

“1t’s well known”, claimed Eunice, who played Lady MacBeth. “The results can be catastrophic, and in some cases deadly. Theaters have burned down. Actors have died. All because somebody said that name”.

“So we’re doomed”, scoffed Roger.

Continue reading “MacBeth For Idiots”

Posted in life

The Supportive Parents

“So”, asked his father, “What is your favorite color”?


“Oh no, that’s an ugly color. Only girls like pink. Pick something else”.

“I don’t want to pick something else”, he said, “I like pink”.

“Why don’t you go think about it for a while, and come back later with a better answer”.

A while later, his mother say him crying in his room.

“What’s wrong honey”?

“Daddy said I can’t like pink. He said it’s ugly and only girls like it.”

“Sweetie, don’t ever let anyone tell you what to like. You are a unique individual. You can like and do and be whatever you want. Now dry your eyes and tell me what you want to be when you grow up”.

“A policeman”!

“Oh no honey, that’s too dangerous. Pick something else”.

Posted in prompts

Welcome to Ooky Booky

Three Things Challenge

The words are eggplant, jellyfish, space

I’d always wanted to go into space, ever since I was a kid. And now, here I was. We’d been invited, via late 21st century Space technology – that I won’t explain here because you probably wouldn’t understand it – to travel to a planet called Ooky Booky. On earth we called it AlphaBetaGamma47658. By the same token, they called out planet Whatabunchofdumbassmorons, instead of Earth.

When we landed, we were greeted by the president of their free world. His name was Ronald McDonald Dump, and he looked like a giant Eggplant. Purple face, purple hair. With him was his wife, Melancholy.

“Welcome to our, um, er, planet”‘ he said.

“Thanks, but are we really welcome here”?

“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens”, he said.

As we conversed – me coherently, him all wish-washy – I noticed a group of what looked like Jellyfish being packed into a big vehicle.

“Who are they”?, I asked.

“They’re the jellyfish people. We’re sending them back to Jellico”.

“Why”, I asked.

“Because they’re not purple and they talk funny. Next week we’ll be burning all of the books, because smart people write them and I don’t understand what they’re saying”.