|Binkle Bunny in Dead People Taste Funny
NOTE FROM PUBLISHER: This was originally published back in 2001; however, we are re-posting so that it can be stored permanently in the new content management software. The sun was setting over the Cummy Todge public house and a gentle wind whistled across the grass plains. Binkle Bunny sat outside on a bench, the fading light glistening off his metal parts and in his one infra-red eye. “What a beautiful, nay what a peaceful night.” What he didn’t understand was why it was peaceful. There had in fact been a bomb warning on all the major routes and consequently, not a soul stirred for miles. They had all been hoaxes but the public was doomed not to know this because the only real bomb had ben planted in the bomb co-ordinating office and it had gone off, taking the computer with t. So the police carried on blowing up peoples sandwiches, briefcases, idly parked cars and larm clocks (They knew that was what they were, but they carried on anyway because it as un) and the major routes remained closed. Presently, Neds Bernneville thundered into the distance and to Binkles amazement, thundered past with no one on board. “Well there’s... more...
Published on 11/20/2011
|THE UNIVERSALITY OF MAUREEN
Water gushes down from the showerhead onto me and my troubles are washed away. They of course accumulate again, as does the dirt during the working day. But a good shower – nothing beats it – not a good hard hot shower. Who can go without it and say that they’ve truly lived? The only problem is something curious happens every time I have one. I get under the showerhead on a workday morning at 6.45, and lo and behold, after spending a mere 5 minutes there I come out to find that it is already 7.40. more...
Published on 09/22/2011
|The Sock Puppet That Came In From The Cold (Part 3)
Part 3 of 3: Sally drove her Volkswagen Golf through what had now become a blizzard. Snow fell relentlessly, covering the streets and making visibility downright invisible. To make matters worse, the streets were icy beneath the snow. The small car treated corners as if they were an option, and often skidded into the opposite lane while taking them. “Slow down, can’t you?” said Peter, white-knuckling it in the passenger seat. “We want to get there alive.” “Oh, be quiet. I’ve driven snowmobiles at my folks’ place in the mountains; this is no different. Besides, we’re practically the only car on the road.” “What if you hit a pedestrian?” “This is the West Side. The only people crazy enough to be out in this weather on Christmas Eve on the West Side are hard enough to bounce off.” They swerved dangerously round another corner, barely missing a mailbox. Peter took the hint and closed his eyes. “What does your pendant tell you?” said Sally once they’d straightened out. “We’re getting close. The hostel should be down the next street if I remember rightly.” “Any ideas as to what we do when we get there?” “Beyond putting a stop to Mr.... more...
Published on 12/27/2010
|The Sock Puppet That Came In From The Cold (Part 2)
Part 2 of 3: Elsewhere in the city that night, a party was being held: in the police station of all places. But not everyone attending was filled with Christmas cheer. Officer Peter Gumption had rather more worrisome thoughts on his mind. He sat nursing them limply on the couch. An attractive blonde twenty-something sat on the arm-rest beside him. “You haven’t touched your eggnog, Peter,” said Sally, Peter’s fellow officer and date. “You can have it,” he said, passing her the tumbler. “I want to stay alert. Besides, my stomach …” Sally raised an eyebrow. “You’re not still worried about you-know-who, are you? You’ve done everything you possibly can, and then some. Isn’t having APB’s out at all the sewerage treatment plants enough?” “But the sewer overflows we’ve had—” “Which you’ve only mentioned five times today. You had a look, didn’t you? The bastard’s probably been washed out to sea. Good riddance.” Peter shook his head. “It’s not as simple as that. The sea didn’t stop him the first time.” “Then with any luck he’ll get swallowed by a grouper fish, or meet with some sockthirsty pirates.” Sally thumped Peter in the shoulder and grinned. Peter retained his pensive... more...
Published on 12/27/2010
|The Sock Puppet That Came In From The Cold (Part 1)
Part 1 of 3: It hailed, it sleeted, it raged and blew. Then it rained, and rained some more. It rained until the sewers overflowed. Then, mercifully, Christmas Eve arrived and put its foot down. The wind and its accomplices rolled out, and fog rolled in to wrap the city in its damp embrace. Thousands of relieved people ventured out to do their last-minute shopping. The less-fortunate also ventured out, to do shopping of a different kind. A nameless man shambled through the darkness of a sewer outflow pipe. Once again the tide was out, so to speak, having left rich deposits behind. People with names would sooner not give such ‘treasures’ a first glance, let alone a second. But our nameless man wandered among them like a child at the seashore after a storm has littered it with beautiful shells and the strange blobby remnants of unfortunate sea-creatures. Each new find felt the gaze of expectancy from his glazed, bulging eyeballs. The odd item shrank back from a scowl, received a swift kick from a shabby old boot. The luckier pieces of flotsam were scooped up with glee in a grime-smeared, bony hand, and stuffed into the deep, damp... more...
Published on 12/27/2010
|The Relentlessly Unpleasant Skit Show Presents:
An early twenties MICHAEL J. STAPLETON is sitting Indian style on the floor. He is drinking a 40oz bottle of prune juice and is snorting lines of metemucil on a mirror. He has on a striped shirt with an alligator on the breast, Addias running pants and Addias shell toe sneakers. He is watching a mid-80s style Magnavox T.V. He is sitting on the floor because the 1950s style furniture is covered in plastic. There are antique pictures on the wall and the house reeks of mothballs more...
Published on 11/24/2010
|THE OTHER DAY
The other day Joan and I went to the Commomwealth Market to pick up various groceries for the week. When we were about to leave I wanted to buy something semi-sweet so I decided to buy some raisins. All I could find were some in a clean plastic hand wrapped design. The next day I wanted something sweet and Joan suggested I eat the raisins. So I thought “yes, that’s what I want”. So I grabbed them from our cabinet, then I started to eat. They tasted crunchy because of the feeling against my teeth. It was odd that raisins would feel that way, but I ate half of them anyway before offering some of them to Joan. And at that time I realized that the raisins had seeds of which I had never experienced before. And just then I saw a strange and contorted look on Joan’s face. She couldn’t understand either, why it felt like she was chewing on tiny stones and then asked me “whats up with the raisins”. I just said, “I think they have seeds.” This got me thinking. Are these raisins seeded or seedful. So I thought about it. She needed a massage –... more...
Published on 07/23/2010
|THE STOOL PIGEON AND THE INDIAN LAKE 1933
It never occurred to me that Norman would chicken out and become a stool pigeon. He was aggressive, a good athlete, a gambler, (for baseball cards and streetcar transfers), a veteran explorer of our neighborhood and Crotona Park. He was a very persuasive talker, a take-over guy and besides, he loved banana and mustard sandwiches. It was his idea that we organize a trip to the Floyd Bennett Airport. When he squealed to his mother about our plans we labeled him…But that will come with this story. We were nine years old that bright, summer morning in 1933, when Norman told us about an airport “just on the other side of Crotona Park.” (When I was older, I learned that it was about thirty miles south of my home, on an island off the coast of southern Queens.) There were five of us in the group and the other four had just finished playing “off the bench.” This game is played with a “Spaldeen,” a pink, soft rubber ball that is thrown against the slatted wooden back of a concrete bench that stands on the park side of Fulton Avenue. Our neighborhood consisted of one ‘block,’... more...
Published on 03/21/2010
|Head in the Sand
A tale of sand and longing. more...
Published on 02/15/2010
|It’s a wonderful Christmas story!
Follow bob on twitter or ask bob a question! I hope you enjoy this special holiday message for the founder of TheWeirdcap.com and MyStrangeStories.com. For those who don’t follow Bob Senitram’s weekly column, his weekly rambles can be found in the Ask Bob column. I understand how folks really love the Jesus, but for some reason its always at the expense of others. I’ve always questioned the theology of religions that end up hurting more people than they help. If you question the validity of the Jesus, then you may be interested in the conspiracy theory written a few years back. Basically its suggesting that perhaps one of Jesus’s followers was responsible for the “elimination” of John the Baptist so that Jesus would become more popular. – Click here for more – I added a few more theories: I. If it just so happens that you do believe that the Jesus was the son of God or something like that, then riddle me this. What if Mohammed, Confucious, Buddah, and other religious leaders (not counting Joseph Smith) were actually an incarnation of the same spirit that went into the making of the Jesus. ... more...
Published on 12/24/2009