Flash Fiction #150

Twins

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

DOUBLE THE PLEASURE DESTRUCTION
DOUBLE THE FUN

To have one rambunctious teenage son was….interesting. To have two – and twins – was stressful.  So different, and yet so much the same – and so competitive.  She almost needed a counsellor on speed-dial, and Valium in a Pez dispenser.  One for her; one each for the boys.

The contractor had said that the cost to repair the “Me first! No, Me!” front door would be reasonable, but would take a week.  Their automobile dealer said that the now-air-conditioned car would financially be another matter entirely.

Smart Car???! If they’d been smart, they’d have bought an old Police van with handcuff restraints.

***

Got to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

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Say What?

I keep bitching about precision of language usage, saying what you mean, and meaning what you say.  Have you mastered the art of effective communication?  The following are excerpts from actual letters received by Welfare Departments, asking for support.

I am forwarding my marriage certificate and six children.  I have seven children, but one died which was baptised on a half sheet of paper.

Mrs. Jones has not had any clothes for a year, and has been regularly visited by the clergy.

I am glad to report that my husband who is missing is dead.

I want my money as quick as I can get it.  I’ve been in bed with the doctor for two weeks and he doesn’t do me any good.  If things don’t improve, I will have to send for another doctor.

In accordance with your instructions, I have given birth to twins in the enclosed envelope.

My husband got his project cut off two weeks ago, and I haven’t had any relief since.

Unless I get my husband’s money pretty soon, I will be forced to live an immortal life.

I am forwarding my marriage certificate and three children, one of which is a mistake as you can see.

This is my eighth child.  What are you going to do about it?

You have changed my little boy to a girl.  Will this make any difference?

In answer to your letter, I have given birth to a boy weighing ten pounds.  I hope this is satisfactory.

I cannot get sick pay.  I have six children.  Can you tell me why?

Please find out for certain if my husband is dead.  The man I am now living with can’t eat or do anything until he knows.

 

This Is His Life

 

From 20 to 30 – If a man lives right, it’s once in the morning and twice at night.

From 30 to 40 – If he still lives right, he misses a morning, and sometimes at night.

From 40 to 50 – It’s just now and then.

From 50 to 60 – Its God knows when.

From 60 to 70 – If he’s still inclined, but don’t let him kid you.  It’s still on his mind.

His sporting days are over, his little light is out.

What used to be his sex appeal, is now his water spout.

It used to be embarrassing to make the thing behave.

For nearly every morning, it stood and watched him shave.

But now it’s getting older, and it sure gives him the blues,

To have it dangling down his legs, and watch him clean his shoes.

 

Cucumbers Are Better Than Men, Because:

 

The average cucumber is AT LEAST six inches long.

Cucumbers stay hard for a week.

A cucumber won’t get TOO excited.

A cucumber never suffers from performance anxiety.

Cucumbers are easy to pick up.

You can eat a cucumber when YOU feel like it.

A cucumber doesn’t care if you’re a virgin.

Cucumbers won’t ask:  Am I the best?  How was it?  Did you come?  How many times?

No matter how old you are, you can always get a fresh cucumber.

A cucumber won’t pout if you have a headache.

With a cucumber, you never have to say you’re sorry.

A cucumber will never leave you for another woman.

You always know where your cucumber has been.

Cucumbers don’t leave you wondering for a month.

It’s easy to drop a cucumber.

No matter how you slice it, you can have your cuke, and eat it too!!

Triviana Two

The further spewings of a mind incapable of holding a cogent thought longer than….what was I saying?  Oh, yeah.

Do you store your kitchen knives in a wooden knife-block?  Are there grooves in the bottom of each slot?  You aren’t doing the edge, or the block, any good.  I was watching a British detective show, and the young Copper wanted to impress a date, by cooking up a home-made meal.  He reached over and removed a knife from the block – upside-down!  And the little light went on!  There’s no rule that says they have to go in edge down.  The knife-nut took a Gibbs’ head-smack out of petty-cash, and moved on.

This area must be a good one to live in.  There have been three articles about birthdays in the paper recently.  First, the oldest person in the Region is a lady who is now 106 years old.  A week later, we had a report of twin brothers who had celebrated their 100th.  Granted, they were born in India, and came here after W.W. II, but two of them??!  One hundred!!  Must be the water…. or the preservatives in the Twinkies.  Finally, there was an article about a pair of female twins who had reached 90 years of age.

When she listens to radio in the evening, while reading, the wife likes to put on a local station which carries a syndicated show by New-Ager, John Tesh.  She likes the choice of music on his show, but his inane yammering drives her crazy.  I heard him say, the other night, that someone had done a study of 3700 crosswalk push buttons.  I don’t know what disturbed me most, that someone had got paid to study crosswalk buttons, or how badly they screwed up the findings.

Tesh claimed that 47% weren’t connected to anything, because, when they were pushed, nothing happened.  In my Analog Curmudgeon post, I bitched about things going on in the background in computers, which I couldn’t see.  It’s the same with computer-controlled traffic lights.  Just because you push a button, it doesn’t mean that the light will immediately go green.

The Traffic Department doesn’t want the flow of traffic disrupted, nor drivers slamming on brakes to stop at suddenly-red lights.  Your request goes into the system and your walk-light will appear in sequence.

MSN had an article today, about lengthening the time on yellow lights.  If the dwell-time is too short, drivers are put in a dilemma-spot.  Do they take a chance on running a red light, or slam on the brakes, and possibly get rear-ended?  The local Traffic Department, like others everywhere, installed red-light cameras at several problem intersections, “To improve safety!”  An independent survey group recently revealed that crashes at these corners are up 31%, and personal injuries have increased by 51 %.

Despite having these data given to him, the Traffic Co-ordinator insists that it’s not about the cash infusion from the fines, “It’s about the safety.”  We pay the company which installed and maintains the cameras, an outrageous fee.  The Ontario government takes an unearned cut, and the Region banks what’s left.  Thanks, Mr. Co-ordinator, my wallet feels much safer, just like your job.

As an ego sop to a bunch of egotistic saps, the Regional Council seems hell-bent on putting an LRT street-railroad down the middle of the already too-small, over-burdened main street.  Despite huge public outrage, it seems destined to be a fait accompli.  The projected cost is 818$ million.  The Provincial and Federal Governments are each providing one-third of the funding, but that just means we’re getting our own money back.  The inevitable cost over-runs will push it above ONE BILLION.

Regional Council has paid a local think-tank $75,000, to come up with a name which will make us like it.  Citizen suggestions had already included White Elephant, SUB – seldom used boondoggle, WTF – Waterloo Transit fiasco, TNT – Taxpayers’ nightmare transit, MET – money-eating taxer, FUUS – forced upon us suckers, RBI – really bad investment, RMP – Regional money pit, and OUCH – over-priced, under-used cash hole.

Without consulting the public, probably because of the above, the fairy-dust sniffers brought it down to three names.  They felt it should be Trio, for the three main cities in the Region, even though Cambridge will not be hooked up for years, if ever; Arc, because of the pot-of-gold (Which it’s going to cost us.) at the end of the rainbow feeling, and the curve it forms on the map; or Ion, which is supposed to represent energy, and the local electronic/technology industry.

With the predictable public reaction, they are now back-pedalling, and offering to accept public input.  C’mon guys, you’re burning money!  Somebody do what they’re (over)paid to do, make a damned decision.  Why not officially name it what everybody’s going to call it anyway – LRT?

Three naked male teens were reported jumping on a trampoline in a residential backyard recently.  They were clothed when police arrived, but were cautioned.  This is Ontario, in mid-January; parts can freeze and break off.

In case you didn’t notice at Christmas-time, the Politically-Correct Police removed the reference to Santa smoking a pipe, from the, ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas, poem.  They declared that nicotine addiction was “a pediatric disease, for which prevention must start early.”  This ranks with the Bowdlerization of Mark Twain’s, Huck Finn, and the recent furore over the movie Django Unchained.  It ain’t pretty, but it’s historical fact.  Not being exposed to it merely prevents us from making an informed decision when it inevitably arises.

I know my header says “Rants and Rambles”, but that’s enough for now.  I don’t want to tire you out with all that thinkin’ stuff.