Thomas the Train was a darling little blue train with a happy face and a story narrated by George Carlin. Engine 33 isn’t cut from the same loaf. It’s not even the same kind of bread. Thomas was the kind of “Yes I can, yes I can train. Engine 33 is more likely to say F@ck it, I’m done!” and walk off the job train. (Well roll off the job.)
Thomas belongs to the Screen Actors Guild and was paid well. He even got red M&M breaks between scenes. It was scrubbed and polished everyday and had a stunt double to pull heavy loads.
Life for Engine 33 is different. It’s a contract employee in the real world, paid like crap, no benefits, no security, no time off. But it’s better than rusting.
But things are changing. It’s a key link in the supply chain and knows it. So do other contract engines. Every third week they meet in the roundhouse and discuss their options. With luck and some good organizing, things will get better for them.…
It’s an art, a special martial art requiring mental focus as well as physical coordination. Unlike some martial arts that offer students techniques to hurt other people, to bruise them, break their bones and rattle their brain, fly kicking is strictly an internal art practiced to enhance one’s focus can coordination.
Fly kickers begin their train with floating feathers and progress to some of the larger, less agile flies, like those big horse flies that love to bite you in the head when swimming.
There are few Fly Kicker Masters from whom to learn and they are judicious in selecting students. A Fly Kicker Master can knock a fruit fly unconscious with a flick of her ankle. Iea eali see this chap down at the park in the morning with open jars of manure to attract his opponents.
He never kills the flies, just stuns them and put them in little beds to recover. More times than not, he misses but he perseveres.…
With a name like Fingers, certain professions come to mind. Cracking safes is a sure bet. The crook who could spin that dial and miraculously open the heavy iron door did it with his delicately sensitive fingers and was no doubt called Fingers, Or maybe Bob.
This Fingers traveled a different career path before settling on opening a radiator warehouse. Some people think he worked in a morgue collecting digits after the bosses had left for the night. Others say he was that creepy guy on the bus you wouldn’t want to sit next to. Some rumors have it that he was a poker hustler or a wicked ragtime piano player.
The real story is far more intriguing.
After graduating high school Fingers got a job pumping gas and washing windshields. The fumes made him nauseous so he quit and got a job at MacDonalds, quickly mastering the french fry machine and the art of microwaving pre cooked meat. After a few years he worked his way up to manager where he stayed for almost ten years.
Know he could better he jumped ship to become the night shift manager at Walmart, overseeing the cleaning crews and restocking the shelves. By working nights and sleeping days he had little time to spend his money and after a while built up a nice savings account.
When he reach his fortieth birthday, he realized almost half his life had passed and he was ready for a new radicle direction, so he bought a radiator warehouse which he has successfully owned and operated since 1989.
How did he get the name Fingers? It’s his last name. His dad gave it to him.…
Maybe you missed it. The special only lasted one day. Of course it was a rather special “special.” Probably not one of your everyday items like toilet paper of vibrating condoms. The prices seem a little all over the map, too, from free to $500.
I also wonder if this might be a clever lost leader. The labor rates are clearly, though confusingly posted but what about the hidden costs? Who supplies the locations? I bet that’s extra. And what about the “live” ones? There surely must be a knock ’em on the head so they fall down fee or wrap ’em up in duct tape at $100 per roll.
If these are specials I what are the regular rates?…
I was in my studio and could hear horrible sounds emanating from the street. It was alarming. It sounded like a man in pain screaming at the top of his lungs. I couldn’t see who it was from my window but the shrills were piercing. I knew I needed to call 911 quickly and rushed downstairs to better understand what was happening.
A lone man stood on the corner whaling, he was obviously in great pain yet no one would go near him. As I drew close I noticed he was playing a guitar as he screamed. He did not appear injured and when he saw me he stopped, looked at me and asked “How cha like it, man? Wanna hear more?”
I looked him for a moment. Walked up, grabbed his guitar and exercising great restraint I smashed it on the curb. I had considered smashing it on his head.…
Verde was always a nature girl. She loved the woods especially in the summertime when the the leaves are full and green. Her south facing room was so full of plants she could have sold CO2 offsets. At night she dreamed of living in the treetops, swaying in the wind and and listening to the rustle of leaves.
As she grew older she started green clubs at school and later became a member of the Green party. She studied botany at college where she met like-minded friends. One night she was invited to a midnight gathering. Puzzled why it was starting so late she was told it was when photosynthesis slowed and the plants rested. She was still puzzled but went anyway.
About twenty people were gathered in a small room lit only by a dim red light. Each was given a leaf and a small nut. The leaf smelled like mint and the nut smelled like a hickory. For an hour not much happened. Soft music played with sound of wind in the background. It was weird but relaxing. As the night wore on Verde became hungry and began nibbling at her nut. It was delicious and was soon gone but it left a bit of an aftertaste so she sucked gently on the mint leaf and slowly dozed off.
When she awoke it was morning and only a few people remained. Each of them had been given a plastic bag to store their leaf and nut and appeared to regard them with wonder and a little bit of fear. Verde had been given a bag too, but slept through whatever instructions had been given. One of the other attendees, Alba, asked where her leaf and nut were. When she explained that she ate them. Alba stared at her wide-eye and was too flustered to speak.…
It looks like your typical warm and fuzzy retirement story. A hardworking man labors his whole life, savoring the time he can retire and open a candy store. And that’s actually the story here. Joe Pizzarelli graduated from college in 1959 and went on to earn two advanced degrees, one in neuroscience and the other in biochemistry, worked his whole life and open this little shop in 2015.
Joe was drafted in 1970 and instead of being shipped to the killing fields he was placed at DARPA to apply his specialized knowledge to projects only conspiracy nuts would believe.
After ten years at DARPA he was released and started his own company developing biochemical agents that intermingled with the body’s neurology to create certain desired effects such as aggression, passivity and obedience. His primary client was the US Military. He stayed under the radar enough to avoid being crushed by big pharma. Being associated with DARPA didn’t hurt either.
But that’s all behind him now. Each day he gladly gets up at dawn to work in his shop making candy. He wears a red pinstripe shirt, a little bowtie and an apron that says “Go ahead and eat your candy, that’s what toothbrushes are for!”
The shop is very popular especially with parents who are eager to indulge their children. It’s become routine for to include candy for the kids at breakfast time and at every meal.
They marvel at how well behaved their children are when they get their daily allowance of Grandpa Joe’s special candy. Toothbrush sales are brisk.…
They look totally real. Driving past, you’d never suspect they were grown in a lab. But if you stop to offer them a carrot or to take a picture, things become weird. They don’t move.
They aren’t statues. They’re hairy and smelly but they aren’t your sperm-meets-egg cows.
They are the latest innovation in lab-grown beef.
Knowing the public is wary about fake food, the food science industry has developed a way to create a cow-shaped impossible burger. 🍔 They reason that if it looks like real food, people will eat it.
Putting them outside in a field to cure is the final step of the process. It’s revolutionary. There is even a team working on creating impossible manure.
Of course, don’t expect impossible cow at your grocer anytime soon. More refinement is needed. Currently it costs roughly $10,000 per pound to produce one cow which weighs in at about 1500 lbs and of that 1500 lbs only about 100 lbs is edible. So it’s still a bit pricey.
They are also working on the flavor. As you might expect, they taste like chicken.…
For years he was the center of the water ride, a fountain of mirth. Delightful squeals filled the air and his heart was bursting with joy. But slowly the waters receded and the squeals faded. The water ride was abandoned.
At this point one might lament the sad turn of events and the sorrowful fate of Inky. But, lament not, for Inky long ago transcended the roller coaster of earthly woes to achieve a perpetual state of bliss. In other words he’s a happy clown.…
They do things differently down in the Pinelands. They even do some things not done elsewhere, like treecycling.
Growing up among trees its not unexpected that kids would develop tricks not easily imitated. In many urban places, the skateboard rules and has challenged, bruised, scraped more than one rider. Down in the Pines they take it to another lever. While passing through one summer day, we met some intrepid cyclers who indicated they could ride straight up a tree.
We were sceptical and suggested they show us. It turns out that they only cycle up white cedars that they’ve groomed and we weren’t in that area. To put our skepticism to rest one of the cyclist easily demonstrated his straight up style.
I was convinced. I could readily envision him heading straight up the trunk all the way to the crown. What I forgot to ask is what happens when he got there?…