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Entries for various contests and challenges, as well as buffoonery and poppycock. |
| This is a place for me to write entries for contests and challenges, as well as general items of nonsensical contents. Although most of these items are short and condensed, they may one day become something more. |
| American presidents have come in all sizes from Abe Lincoln at six foot, four inches to Jim Madison at five foot, four inches. Likewise, their wights also span a great distance with Bill Taft tipping the scales at a whopping three hundred and forty pounds and of course Jim Madison (again) barely moving the scale at a measly one hundred pounds. Big Bill Taft stood five foot, five inches, only one inch taller than Lil' Jim Madison! If they could have stood side by side, what a sight that would have been! President Taft was nicknamed: "Big Bill" and "Big Chief", which are both very fitting. I wonder, if he ever told anyone in congress who disagreed to, "Get in my belly!" He served four years and was likely not elected for second term mainly because they couldn't afford to feed him for another four years and for fear that if he did get reelected, they may not be able to get him back out without installing a garage door. President Madison was nicknamed "Father of the Constitution", which is a bit ironic since he was the size of a mid-teen child. I wonder if anyone ever asked, "What's that kid doing in here?" Only to discover he was the Commander in Chief! Madison served two terms but it's possible he may have hid under some furniture so they couldn't remove him. To wrap this up, I would like to add that it's good that Taft and Madison were not in the capital at the same time or it's likely they would have been nicknamed, "Fat Bastard and Mini Me"... "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Word count: 286 One day, as I sat along the banks of a river eating an ice cream cone and contemplating a story in the Newsfeed by Adherennium - Maybe Writing?   , I saw a line of six TRIDs (Tiny, Rare, Industrious, Ducks) advancing towards the bridge. As I continued to contemplate and watch, the six TRIDs began crossing the bridge only to have a mean, ugly, and foul smelling troll come out from under the bridge. He, she, it, (I’m not sure, it’s hard to tell with trolls) climbed the bank and ran onto the bridge and proceeded to kick the TRIDs off the bridge and into the water. After the last TRID was booted off the bridge, the troll returned to it’s dwelling under the bridge.The TRIDs swam back to their side of the river, climbed the bank, and again approached the bridge and begin crossing. The troll instantly climbed the bank, ran onto the bridge and started kicking the poor TRIDs off again. This sequence of events continued a few more times, until the troll had kicked the crap out of the TRIDs (the bridge was literally covered in TRID s***! Having enough of this, tired, and frustrated, the s***less TRIDs vanished back the way they had come. Curious, I walked over te the bridge and stepped onto it, expecting the nasty troll to run out and kick me. I was half right, the troll did run up the bank and onto the bridge, but stopped when it saw me. “You’re not a TRID, go ahead and cross.” Confused, I asked, “But why then do you kick the TRIDs?” The troll shook it’s hideous head and replied, “I thought everyone knew, kicks are for TRIDs!” "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
Written for February - SHORT MONTH, SHORT BLOGS Word Count 102 Toby had a motorbike, wherever I went I had to hike. I asked him for a ride one day, he said yes, but I'd have to pay. I asked him how much the fee would be, he answered back, "I don't know, we'll have to see." I climbed on the back and we motored away; the wrong direction I have to say. He stopped ten miles away. "Five bucks you have to pay." I explained, "You went the wrong way! Take me back or I won't pay." "Fine," he said, "get off my bike," Now I have ten more miles to hike! "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
Written for "Invalid Item"  , prompt: Alascattalo Day.Today is Nov. 21, Alascattalo Day; yes this entry is written on time! But, what is an Alascattalo you may ask, I know I did. But after a brief search I found the answer. The Alascattalo is the Alaskan mascot, a cross between a moose and a walrus. There is a funny annual celebration and I can only imagine the fun Alaskans enjoy during the celebration. But, is there such a cross of animals? Is there a horny walrus on the icy rocks, or perhaps a chubby moose with tusks is wondering the Yukon. We may never know; Sasquatch knows! In reading about the Alascattalo, I was reminded of another strange animal, the Jackalope. I did a short search and did not find any Jackalope Day, but feel there should be one in celebration of this bizarre creature as well. For those who believe, the Jackalope is said to be an antlered species of rabbit, sometimes rumored to be extinct. One of the rarest animals in the world, it is a cross between a now extinct pygmy-deer and a species of killer-rabbit. However, occasional sightings of this rare creature continue to occur, with small pockets of Jackalope populations persisting in the American West. The antlered species of rabbit are brownish in color, weight between three and five pounds, and move with lightning speeds of up to 90 miles per hour. They are said to be vicious when attacked and use their antlers to fight, thus they are sometimes called the “warrior rabbit.” The Jackalope was first encountered by John Colter, one of the first white men to enter what would one day be the State of Wyoming. They also inhabit other western states, including western South Dakota. There are rumors but after having lived in the Rapid City area and spending time in the Black Hills and surrounding areas, I discovered there's more to it than just rumors. I have seen Jackalopes on a couple of occasions (or, perhaps they were just jackrabbits sitting in front of some brush). It was while consuming large amounts of beer in the hot sun that I seen these oddities of nature. I assume they were waiting for me to drop a bottle so they could move in and enjoy a cold brew themselves. I would have hiked over to investigate further, making sure it was in fact a Jackalope I was looking at and not a jackrabbit sitting in front of some brush, but with them moving at lightning speed and being vicious, I felt it better to keep my distance. They are fast, though. I watched the pair watching me, but when I blinked, they were gone. One day I hope to travel to Alaska. I have always longed to visit but now I also want to find a quiet spot out in the countryside to drink some beer and watch for the elusive Alascattalo. I am also always on the lookout for another creature that resides right here in northern Minnesota, a cross between a black bear and a whitetail deer. The offspring are called, according to their colors, either light or dark Beers. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Written for "Invalid Item" for November 14, make-up entry. In deciding what would be a good beverage to serve with Thanksgiving Dinner I stumbled upon something I did not know. I learned from a history teacher that the Puritans liked beer and had barrels of beer on the ships they sailed to settle in the New World. But, I didn't know that our first settlers drank beer for breakfast, including the children, or how important beer was to the early colonials. Most of us know a bit about the Boston Tea Party, but after understanding more about the colonist's love of beer, it only makes sense they would dump tea in the harbor, but would not waste a precious drop of their favorite brewed beverage. Most of this can be found relatively easily if one searches the history of beer in the United States. But what I found most interesting is that the Pilgrims may never had stopped at Plymouth Rock if it wasn't for beer. Originally they had planned on choosing a settlement that would provide rich farmland and a temperate climate, but instead settled on rocky land subject to brutal winters. Why? Because they were almost out of beer! This is taken from a passenger from the Mayflower, "We could not now take time for further search... our victuals being much spent, especially our beer..." There's more but I think this is enough to show how much beer influenced history. https://absolutebeer.com/beer101/a-brief-history-of-beer-in-colonial-america/ A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| I just read a suggestion for a skunk merit badge and this is what stars running amuck in my head: Many years back in a county far far away, a friend of mine went for a walk in the deep north woods. He was good at walking in the woods, but this day a heavy fog moved in, and he lost his way. He wandered for hours and it was starting to get dark, so in a panic, he started yelling and running. Luckily, he saw light in the distance. He continued yelling and running, now towards the light. But, just as soon as the light showed up, it was gone again. In despair, he dropped to the ground and as he fell, brushed something hairy! He couldn't stop his descent and landed hard on some kind of animal that bit into his thigh before scurrying off into the underbrush. Bruised, bleeding, and beaten, he just lay there listening to his heart thumping. But then he heard another sound, a rumbling in the distance. "Oh great! Just what I need, a storm!" But it wasn't thunder, it was a very loud pickup truck and it was getting closer. He got up and stumbled in the darkness and soon saw lights coming closer. He was at the edge of the woods and near a road. To keep the story short, he was picked up and brought to the hospital, had a few stitches, and was able to go home. Everything was fine at first, but by the end of the month, he was feeling strange. He began to like the smell of garbage and sometimes found himself outside at night, buck-naked, eating out of garbage cans. He was ashamed and didn't say anything at first, but as it continued to get worse, he returned to the hospital thinking maybe he had rabies. The night he went was also a full moon, and just as he arrived, something happened that few will believe. He fell to his hands and knees and began to transform. His arms became covered in black fur, his eyes turned black and he had a snout instead of a mouth. A crowd gathered around as he continued to change. Within minutes, my friend was gone. In his place was some kind of cross between a man and a skunk; he was a wereskunk! He snarled at the crowd and spun around, his tattered and torn clothing falling off. His tail came up and a ghastly spray shot out and covered everyone with skunk spray, then he bolted for the woods and has never been seen again. Some folks say that on a full moon, he can still be seen out at the landfill eating trash... A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Shortly after I graduated in 1978, I made a trip to South Dakota to stay with my grandmother for the summer. I had gotten a fancy camera for my birthday, and while staying at my grandmother's, would often go driving in the country and take photographs of old, abandoned houses. On one photography trip, I stopped to take pictures of an old farm. It wasn't abandoned, but the style of the house, the old tractor in the yard, and the old car parked by the porch seemed like a look backward in time. I had taken a couple of pictures when a young woman came out the front door and stood on the porch, holding a baby in her arms. "Can I help you?" I explained why I was there and taking pictures of her home, then apologized and turned to go back to my car. "It's alright. Go ahead and take your pictures. But, if you wouldn't mind, could you take one of me and my son, and maybe mail it to us?" "Sure, I can do that." She stepped off the porch and stood under an ancient maple tree. I took a couple of pictures to ensure one would be perfect to send to her. After, she offered me a glass of lemonade in a green-colored, heavy glass while I waited on the porch for her to write down her address. We talked for a bit, then she said she had to get dinner started. She insisted I take the glass of lemonade with me. Later, after I had the film developed, I picked the best of the two pictures I had taken and mailed it to her. I never thought more about it until I returned home that fall. I was greeted by my mother, "You're home! Did you have a nice time at grandma's?" "I did, and I took a bunch of pictures around the countryside with the camera you got me." I set my bags down, opened one, and took out the green glass and a folder containing all my photographs. My mother had picked up the glass and was staring distantly at it, "Where did you get this?" I explained the story, found the picture, and showed her. I couldn't understand why she looked like she had seen a ghost. "Are you alright, mom?" She blinked as she escaped the trance that held her, then went to her bedroom. She returned a few minutes later with a photo album she put on the table, then asked me, "Would you help me get a box down, please?" "Uh, sure." I didn't understand what was going on. I followed her to the pantry where she pointed to an old shoe box on the top shelf. I used the step stool to reach it and handed it down to her. She carried it to the table, set it down next to the photo album, and looked at me. "I think you should sit down. In fact, we both should." I sat down and looked at her, puzzled. She was sitting now and opened the box. She took out three big glasses wrapped in old newspaper and unwrapped them. They matched the green glass the lady on the farm had given me! Next, she flipped through the photo album, found a picture, and removed it from its sleeve. She looked at it for a moment, then handed it to me. I almost fell off my chair, it was the same picture of the lady on the farm, holding the baby. But this photograph was old and yellowed around the edges. "A young man took this picture of me and you, a few months after you were born. I gave him some lemonade and let him keep the glass in exchange for mailing me this picture." I couldn't move; I could barely breathe! After sitting there stunned for a minute or two, I dug through the folder and found the other picture I had taken of the woman and the baby. It was the same photograph! The same house, the same lady in the same clothes holding the same baby -- me! A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Word count = 296 (This monologue is strictly fiction) My wife and I were having problems. Part of it was work, I was away more than home. Even so, it provided me time to reflect and get a break, so when my sister-in-law, Stacie, came to visit I thought it would do the same for Brenda. It did, Brenda was happier than she'd been in a long time. They had plenty of time to visit, reminisce, shop, and go sightseeing. Everything was pleasant; life was good until Stacie asked to see the Black Hills. Brenda didn’t like riding on mountain roads, there was no way she was going to drive them. Stacie offered to, but Brenda didn’t trust her and refused to go. Unfamiliar with the area and not knowing where anything was, Stacie asked if I would drive. I had the weekend off, so I agreed. But, this, made Brenda jealous, she was in my face snapping about how fast I did things for Stacie, but not her. This wasn’t true. I tried explaining, but the more I talked, the angrier she became. No more was said until Saturday when it was time to go. Brenda refused! I thought about canceling, but before I could I saw tears in Stacie’s eyes and didn’t have the heart to. We drove places I knew she would enjoy including a scenic route through The Needles. We stopped at a remote overlook and spent a wonderful afternoon talking and hiking. Soon, the sun was nearing the horizon, it was time to leave. Taking one last look at the scenery, I saw an eagle overhead and pointed. She watched for a moment, then faced me smiling. Suddenly her arms were around me and her lips joined with mine. The first kiss was stolen, but the rest were freely given. |
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