It is a nightmare the young Marine could not awaken from as he lay in the hospital bed. Once, he believed the Sandman meant sleepiness, but the Iraqi desert taught him different. All he can do now is lay between the clean, white sheets, body broken, legs missing, and wait for his return to take what remained.

H/T to Pati G. for the idea…

Mama promised to pass her ring to me, but it disappeared the day she was murdered. Police said it was taken as a trophy, so I never thought I’d see it again. Imagine my shocked on my wedding day, when I recognized the ring he’d slipped it on my finger.

At Thanksgiving feast
Gives a dinner blessing
Chokes on a bone

Tom wandered about the prison yard with his fellow inmates, waiting for the coming sound of death. Moments before, the convicted was dragged away. There would be no stay of execution this day, no last-minute pardon for the truly innocent. The blow of the ax’s thud on the butcher’s chopping block made the flock burble nervously.

Another form of TurDucKen: a Turk, stuffed with a Dutchman, stuffed with a Kentuckian. Happy Thanksgiving!

It was after four in the morning when I got home from work. Our dog, Buddy met me at the door with a dead rabbit in his mouth. To understand the implications of this, our neighbor raises white rabbits, so I instantly knew it was theirs.

It took me a minute to get the rabbit away from Buddy, wash it off, climb over the fence and put it back in its cage. I had to do all of this as quietly as possible so I wouldn’t wake my wife and terrify her with the sight of a dead animal in her kitchen sink.

Later that morning, I heard my neighbor lady shriek, followed by, “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!”

Quickly, I dressed and rushed over to find out what was wrong, believing I already knew.  In a half-panic, she breathlessly explained how the rabbit died a few days ago, was buried, but is now back in its cage.

Covering my mouth, not only to hide my actual shock, but to also stifle any possible laughter, I helped her rebury the poor critter. And as I did this, I kept thinking, “I gotta fix that hole under my fence, pronto.”

How or why the podcast disappeared has to be due to operator error: me. It has been corrected and is not ready to be heard. Please check the link to play it. This is a learning experience and I’m sorry about the inconvenience. Thank you for being patient with me…

If two meth addicts begin a relationship, is it considered ‘speed dating’ or simply ‘mething around?’ Asking for a friend.

No one at the manufacturing company could recall the last time the lock had been removed or why it was there in the first place. And the one person who did, had died nearly thirty years before.

It had been old man Martini who had warned that Number 6 should never be opened. However, in the small hours of a crisp Fall morning, a company maintenance man appeared with bolt cutters, removing the ancient and half-rusted padlock.

Aside from the usual heavier sounds of industrial machinery, came the sporadic report of an odd whisper, a queer chant or a strange gurgling from inside the walls and pipes, which were given to imagination or fatigue. However, on this night the newer sounds of rattling, scraping and rapping began from some deeper place within the factory’s wall.

Thayne sat alone, eating in the lunchroom, when he heard beyond the nearby wall, what he believed to be a body, either being dragged or dragging itself. Suddenly a woman screamed as a greenish arm with a wretched clawed hand, bigger than any man’s head, shot-out from the now unlocked locker and grabbed Thayne tightly by his right calf.

With a monstrous yank, it jerked Thayne off-balance, causing him to fall. And once down, the hapless man was quickly pulled into the locker’s darkened opening.

As he yelled, the others unsuccessfully battled to free him from the horror violently drawing him into the small opening and the greater depth of the locker.  Eventually, all the would-be rescuers could do was listen to the cacophony of Thayne’s pain-filled screams, amid shattering bones, tearing sinew, tendons and muscles, as he abruptly disappeared into the unknown recess of locker number six.

In the following minutes of shocked and unsettling quietude came the infrequently reported and often ignored, “Voq’u’u-lo Zaa-q’ran.”

One woman says, “I have big breasts.” The other says, “I have small breasts.” Meanwhile the operative word for the man is ‘breasts.’