It Came from the Inbox
three submissions, in order
Andy
I very rarely remember my dreams and lately I have been wondering if this is because they are simply boring. The dreams that do stick in my mind when I wake up are, well, always the same.
I am driving through the lamp lit back-streets of Oxford when a squad of soldiers storm down the hill to my left, jump the hedge which has just materialised there and start shooting at me.
Accelerating away I lose them down the winding country roads that now make up Oxford's city centre. Looking down to check my bowl of cream I eat a good spoonful to steer left, another mouthful and the car screeches through the next right - then I'm clear, heading out into the rolling hills of Oxfordshire.
Several hundred yards ahead some flimsy fencing is straining to keep a pack of dogs and their handlers from swarming all over the road and intercepting me. As I speed past, eating different amounts of cream and negotiating sweeping bends, the dogs and handlers run alongside me, waiting for a break in the fencing. Damn those fast-running soldiers, I'll never lose them now...
Okay, so it's a pretty weird dream and if I were to put too much effort into it I might start thinking of myself as a malnourished city-boy, longing for the countryside and suffering from a strange paranoia about being hunted by the army.
The point is though, if this is my only dream, I'm not surprised I hardly ever remember it - no one can handle that many re-runs. What I need is a bit more variety, some quality programming from the TV controller in my head. I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THE REPEATS!
my vent
bill keenom
What do I hate, you ask? Well, I'm here now to tell you. I hate the fact that I'm a square peg trying to fit all these vocational holes that are otherwise shaped. I'm 51, a published author, and so unskilled, I don't have anything that anyone wants that's worth more than minimum wage. I'm destined to be a disappointment to my hard working wife, who deserves a mate who can help her make ends meet. But as the economy gets worse, I become even more useless and I couldn't produce two twenty dollar bills to rub together if I needed it to save my white suburban ass. I have friends who could crap their pants and pull a thousand dollars out of their underwear. I couldn't make money if I owned a mint. That's what I hate. No wonder people rob banks. I'm sure I'd do that wrong and end up in prison where I'd apply for a position in the laundry room and be told I wasn't qualified.
Another thing that sucks
Seth Ferguson
You know when you get one of those candy boxes with the little fancy things of chocolate and whatever the hell is concocted inside. Yah I mean one of THOSE. Fancy cute and tasteful gift. The only problem is the for the most part you don't know what the hell your eating. I mean you take a bite into what looks like chocolate when infact its organic flavored chocolate coating mint flavored tofu. Wonderful! I just love a mouth full of coconut or other things I'm allergic to. When you go pick up a flower from wal mart you get a tag that sticks up from the soil. That's what they should do! yes now I'm getting somewhere identify this crap for us. So next time when I want something good to eat I wont get some nasty cough syrup crap coated in what looked like chocolate. Even better the labels will be edible.
Which leads me to my next point: books on tape freakin ROCK!