Bloggers and journalists insist that people love to read lists.  I know several confirmed “list-o-holics” and to tell the truth, I am enamored of the bullet point list, myself.  Lists, particularly Top 10 lists, appeal to people with short attention spans,  to those who want relevant information without all the filler words, and to those who hate thinking for themselves.

Therefore, I will embark on this list journey because I am told that you, dear readers, will love it.  You’ll notice that in my title, I said I’d explain the top ten reasons for why I stopped writing stories and making lists.  This is a dreadfully sinful LIE.

1. Once upon a time, there was a chicken. It danced in the moonlight. (Go on, you might as well check out List Item #2; it may be relevant)

2. It attracted the attention of some nearby gorillas.

3. The gorillas, being more powerful than the chicken, considered biting its head off and consuming it for a snack.

4. Then they realized that because the chicken was so small and there wasn’t enough for all of them, they’d have to fight each other for the chicken.

5. Given that fighting is a pain in the ass, and lying in the grass scratching one’s butt is easier, they decided to ignore the chicken.

6. The chicken continued its avian ballet, unaware of its brush with death.

7. A clever reader asked, “Why exactly would a chicken dance in the moonlight? Wouldn’t it be in a coop somewhere?  And chickens don’t really dance, do they?”

8. The author, in the interest of artistic expression for poultry (won’t somebody please think of the chickens?), had to clobber the reader, duct-tape his mouth shut, and shove him in a closet.

9. The chicken, frightened by the unexpected clobbering noise, fled the scene.

10. The gorillas cried, for they had been enjoying the graceful dance of the chicken.

11. The sun rose mournfully in a cold gray sky over an empty field. A mime dropped a rose.

12. This story was made into a film and won awards at the Sundance festival because of its innovation and embodiment of all the qualities of a good independent film.

13. The author’s readers sent hate mail because not only had the author subjected them to a stupid story that mercilessly consumed a tiny portion of their lives, but because the author had also lied about the number of list items. Also, the film was totally different than the story and that was like, a total sell out.

14. Devasted by the harsh words, the author committed suicide.

15. The author’s spirit woke up in a world where happy rainbow unicorns pranced about. Nice flower fairies made her a princess outfit out of rose petals. She was satisfied by hearing the sad thoughts of those who sent the mean letters: “I’m really sorry now that she is dead. It’s all my fault that she killed herself. I am truly a pathetic excuse for a human being.”

16. All the mean people felt so bad that they killed themselves, too. They showed up in the afterlife alongside the author.

17. Forced to accomodate the influx of contrite people, the rainbow unicorns left her. The flower fairies made everyone else princess outfits, too. The mean people, feeling much better about themselves now that they were princesses, went back to writing hate mail and leaving it where the author could find it.

18. She tried to kill herself again.

19. Turns out you can only kill herself once.

20. There is no happy ending to this story. The moral is: don’t think “they’ll be sorry when I’m dead!” and kill yourself, because they might feel so sorry about it all that they’ll kill themselves, too, and then they’ll be there to annoy you for all eternity. Defiantly keep on writing pointless stories simply to amuse yourself. You can buy princess outfits at the costume store, anyway. It’s not like flower fairies have a monopoly on the costume industry.

THE END

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The fabulous fairy doll in the photo above is titled “Rude Obnoxious Fairy” and can be found at www.off-with-the-fairies.com.

COMMENT, DAMN IT!

Tags: Mythological Mishaps, Repentance & Wailing by splarks
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Apparently life is imitating art. My last story involved the tragic death of a squirrel who haunted the forest and spooked hikers in mean-spirited glory for all eternity. And while taking a leisurely hike on my favorite trail last week, what did I see but … seriously… a very dead squirrel perched on a branch, most definitely not sleeping. I, of course, was spooked. It looked kinda Blair Witch-y.

My friends, this means it’s time to write a much more strategic story while Life is still enjoying imitating my Art.

Once upon a time–like now– there is a lass in Colorado who writes silly animal stories. Trifles, really, but they bring laughter to a small segment of the amusement-deprived population. She is incredibly attractive, witty, and a fabulous piano player with unparalleled creative genius. Her charming tales delight and inspire all who read! Some suitably hip and quirky famous person (oh, don’t make me name names) gets a copy of ”Ulrich the Tooth Goblin” and loves it so much that he instructs all his/her Twitter followers and blog readers to check out her website.

And while the website enjoys massive popularity, a publisher makes his/her entrance and sets up the lovely young lady for riches beyond all imagining.  But who cares about that–a time traveler appears at her bedroom door (which is now overlooking a peaceful tropical beach due to all that stupendous wealth)! Our handsome time traveling friend says, “Let’s cruise through time and space to see sights no human has ever  witnessed!” She returns full of inspiring stories based on her travels and the alien species and customs she has witnessed. A wild kundalini awakening occurs! She visits New Zealand! She performs on stage with Steve Kilbey! She knocks back drinks with Grant Morrison! She goes hiking with Thich Nhah Hanh! She is the perfect picture of health and develop such awesome martial arts skills that all Evil People cower in their presence. In fact, their very awesomeness prompts all Evil People to question their motives and experience profound existential crises.

She plants a garden that astounds all with its magnificent abundance, and feeds the homeless with the fruits of her labor! And at no point does the garden wither and die. No. No it does not. In fact, she barely has to look at the garden and it’s throwing vegetables around like a peasant at a public hanging there’s no tomorrow. She and her lovely friends and family lounge in the exquisite garden all day, eating grapes, raspberries, and cherry tomatoes and having scintillating conversation. Sometimes the fruit is consumed via cheesecake. Absolutely no one gets porky due to frequent cheesecake consumption.  This is a welcome development because cheesecake and World Peace go great together, and World Peace is exactly what happens. Seven months and two days after her amazing rise to power, everyone on the planet bites into a delicious piece of cheesecake (because she is wealthy enough to supply all 6-7 billion people on Earth with a slice*) and realizes that they no longer need to act like jackasses! They all develop a gentle form of telepathy which prevents misunderstandings, and the crime rate drops dramatically. Rappers no longer sing about how they will put a cap in yo’ ass. Hippies start dressing in less offensive color combinations. Indie kids realize the folly of faux trucker hats. These changes in pop culture might have something to do with the powerful influence of her new alien friends, who dress in shiny silver suits and listen to concertos played on brainwave-controlled invisible instruments.  They have discerning tastes.

Furthermore, everyone who has ever killed another person in the name of religion wakes up and goes, “Holy crap, why did I believe such asinine stuff? I would rather spend the rest of my life baking cookies, cookies that bear no trace of arsenic, God’s Wrath, Satan’s hellfire or evil hexes.”

Oh yeah, and climate change stops, pollution-causing technology is swiftly replaced by environmentally-sustainable tech, and people begin living to a longer age and procreating more responsibly. Children are no longer succumbing to boredom and depression in school because some brilliant teacher actually figured out how to make learning fun, and everyone just loves being alive. Even Charles Manson no longer has an urge to kill. Instead, he develops a passion for scuba diving and devotes the rest of his life to protecting coral reefs. There aren’t many prisons anymore because of the staggering drop in crime, but Charles still needs some supervision.  That’s what the dolphins are for.

Yeah.

Yeah, that’s what happens. Come on, Life, you can do better than a dead squirrel. I wanna see the delights of time and space, and Charles Manson singing Kumbaya with Flipper! In fact, here is a picture to help you get started.

And in case you need help envisioning cheesecake, Life, here is a song that explains why cheesecake is so awesome.

I love you, Life.

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This is your chance to make life imitate your art, too.  Maybe by reading this story, it will rub off on you, too.  What are you going to create?

I love comments.  If you comment, a little love goes to you!“

Tags: Based on a True Story, Mythological Mishaps, True Weirdos by splarks
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