Archive for the 'Complete Fiction' Category

Why The Sky Is Blue

July 30, 2012

Long ago, when the Universe was still young and the Earth was indeed younger still, primitive men trampled across the open plains in such of food and shelter. They had long before ventured from their caves into the flat lands, leaving behind centuries of now-forgotten ritual and history.

As he tramped the grass underfoot, primitive man looked at the flora that surrounded him. He saw the deep greens of springtime, the dark browns of the healthy tree trunks, the beautiful rainbow of flowers and animals that inhabited the lands.

But when primitive man looked to the sky, he saw nothing about blackness. No color to enjoy like the rest of the land.

In his primitive heart, he knew this would not do.

Why would everything underneath him and around him look so beautiful, so pleasing to his primitive senses, while the sky above his head suffered a dark and drab fate of inky blackness?

But, this was not a concern until he had shelter and meat for his family.

The days passed, and primitive man found a site suitable for a new shelter. He built in the shadow of a high mountain, one with brooks flowing down the side. It would be a source of fresh water and plentiful fish.

But as he filled his primitive house was dried meats, clay canisters of grain, small weapons for hunting, he found himself looking again to the heavens.

At night, the blackness was pockmarked by tiny thimblefuls of faraway light like fireflies that would never touch the ground, being constantly held by the thin web of some monstrous, undetectable spider.

By day, the black sky was crossed by a larger ball of white light, hacking its way through the darkness but never succeeding at keeping it at bay.

Man thought again of the unfairness of blackened sky and decided he would do something about it.

Packing a primitive satchel with enough cured meats for a week’s journey, Man grabbed a waterskin made from the dried stomach of one of his earlier meals. He trapped as much clean water as he could inside, knowing it may not be in such ready supply as he ascended the mountain near his shelter.

He climbed.

He climbed for days, not stopping to sleep.

Barely eating, barely resting, he climbed.

After months, he reached the top.

His food had run out long before, but his belly burned for something greater now. He wanted to change the sky.

As Man stood out onto the largest cliff on the highest crag on the mountain, he shouted to the heavens. What he shouted was not important. The Gods wouldn’t have understood either way.

But They looked down to see Man shout from the highest mountain and saw fit to reward him for his journey.

As Man turned to descend once again, he noticed the sky become ever so brighter, ever so bluer.

He felt the ball of light shine on his face. All was right with his world.



This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thank you, Daniel Bollinger, for another challenge that let me spread my wings.

This is the best I have felt after writing a post in a long time.

And to think, I made it all the way through without talking about poop, sex or nerd stuff.

Mark this one on a calendar.

Truly ghjr


Campus Security

May 25, 2012

Let me start by saying that I’m glad I wasn’t asked to write this while I was still in college.

That’s right. Your Humble Blog Overlord has a degree.

I can hear you clamoring about it now.

In what?

Well, a very lucrative, secure and prestigious field: Music Journalism.

Okay, so… maybe I talked it up a bit. It’s not that prestigious. Regardless, it’s what I want to do, and I think that the 77 posts and 3 readers of this blog can attest to my ability to write in… shall we say “interesting” ways.

I like to keep it entertaining regardless.

And yes, there are many who helped me along the way.

My parents footed what part of the bill that the State didn’t cover.

Room and board, mainly. I lived with them until this time last year. That’s it. The State covered the rest. I’m a smarty, you know.

They call us “nerds” for a reason, and it ain’t Star Wars.

Of course, most of the professors I had helped. Some more than others, mind you. I have my favorites, and I have a few on my shit-list.

They know who they are.

Of course, my friends help keep everything in check throughout college, and my beautiful girlfriend Lisa (who I’ve managed to sink my talons into and keep a dire grip upon for a majority of my college year) has always kept me on track.

Honestly, I think the only people in my life the past five years (yes. It took me 5. No shame in it.) were the campus security.

I’ve always been at odds with campus security. Not that they’ve ever really done anything to me (until last year, that is), but I’ve just never been a fan.

I’ve always gotten that “false sense of entitlement” from them. It’s the same I get from college students with rich parents who buy them nice cars, or from that jack-hole Remi Bucksaplenty.

Not the one from that cartoon with the fairies. There’s a real one wandering the campus of Fairmont State, hitting on teachers and snorting cocaine out of the hairy anuses of the disease-ridden ladyboys that live in the more desolate parts of the nigh-abandoned Turley Center.

Campus security has always been like a real PD on a super tight budget. Mind you, I’ve never understood why the budget was so tight. The university has always been a fan of gouging every penny they can from the lifeless pockets of any simp who breezes his way past admissions.

It became personal when the new head of security came and started ticketing in faculty spots after 5 p.m. That’s when they started plastering my car and made a lot of enemies.

I have 10 or 12. Still haven’t paid them.

Doesn’t matter. I’ll have that diploma soon and I’ll be done with the place.



This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Ashton Cutright for the challenge. I can only imagine what it would have been like if she had written this.

She waged an Unholy War against campus security in her entire first stint at that college.

She’s the one with all the good stories on this subject.

Truly ghjr

Fran Drescher (and Her Obnoxious Laugh)

May 21, 2012

I have an overwhelming feeling that this post is going to be filled with a lot of judgment.

On your part and mine.

The first celebrity crush I can vividly remember having was on Princess Leia.

Not Carrie Fisher, mind you. It was Princess Leia.

The robe. The buns. The weird hair twists on the side of her head. (HEY-OH! I’m a trickster.)

Anyway, that was around the time I first saw Star Wars, around the age of 7. Soon after that, though, my tastes began to change.

In a way, they devolved somewhat. For a little bit, at least.

I can remember watching a show called The Nanny on Nick-at-Nite with my parents. The show was about a rich man with rich kids who hired a down-to-earth, somewhat ditsy Jersey Girl to watch after the kids and secretly get into a variety of high-jinks around the estate.

Pretty simple story line. After all, it was the early ’90s. We didn’t need none of them vampires and zombie death machines in our TV. No way, no how.

We was just plain ol’ simple folk.

Now… what does The Nanny have to do with crushes on Princess Leia? Glad I prodded you until you asked.

Soon after watching the show, I started to develop a bit of a thing for leading lady, Fran Drescher. She had a long, slender body, legs for days and HUGE…


She didn’t have the prettiest face, but neither did Leia and that never stopped me from lusting after her.

She was the top candidate for newest unobtainable celebrity crush.

Then, she opened her mouth.

Good God. It sounded like a constipated goose was being sexed and strangled at the same time. Not that I would know anything about that… ::shifty eyes::

Seriously. You could grate fresh Parmesan cheese with that lady’s voice. It’s almost as if God Himself looked down upon Fran and, knowing that He had already cursed her with a Jersey accent, decided in His infinite wisdom to damn her even further by forcing her garbled vomit of Jersey words directly through her clamped, crusted nasal cavities.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, just when my developing brain and genitals began weeping bitter tears of acid at the atrocity of the voice, the fated laugh occurred.

It was enough the split the earth open beneath me and conjure a fiery-hot enema of blistering magma from the bowels of Hell itself.

The pillar of brimstone entered my body forcefully and blazed a trail straight to my soul, taking out my heart, my lungs and my stomach full of Lunchables and Ecto Cooler with it.

The body on screen had brought the hopes (and other parts) up so quickly, and the voice dashed the boner-dreams violently against the tragic rocks of vocal reality.

Luckily, Leia was still around to pick up the pieces.

Help me, Leia Organa. You’re my pre-pubescent boner’s only hope.



This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Ashton Cutright for always giving me good challenges. They usually allow me to rip into famous people that I don’t much care for.

As an added side note: Fran Drescher has still not done any nude scenes.

Which is a bummer. I’m sure I’d be able to find it online.

And trust me, I’d be thanking God for the mute button on my laptop.

Truly ghjr