Small & Big

Wrecking Ball Operator Cotton Candy / Stratocumulus Cloud Sequoia Tree Hobo Big Time Philanthropist Mosquito Yahweh Cross Country Big Rig Driver Keystone Cop Not-Allergic-To-Poison-Ivy Person Megaballs Lottery Winner Time Machine Operator Ruby-Throated Hummingbird, Wintering In The Yucatan Carnie Barker Dutchess

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“At the stroke of midnight I turn back into a pumpkin.” “Look at my fine plummage? Just look! Listen to my beautiful song. Listen! Here, I’ve gathered these sticks for you. Sticks!” “You look expensive.” “I’ve been saving myself for you.” “What do you call a dorky guy who doesn’t know how to carry on a conversation? Hello, I’m Albert.” “Do you have a tampon I could borrow?” “Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi!” “What do you say we go halfsies on a baby?” “Are those real? Because I am pretty sure they are not.” “Oday ouyay eakspay Igpay Atinlay?” “I couldn’t help but notice you staring at my monkey-shaped mole.” “Smell my butt?”

“I am wearing sacred underwear.” “Honey, you’re in for a real treat tonight: I’m a beekeeper!” “Thank you, thank you! Now, for my next fart I’ll take requests. You, at the back table there, in the big diamonds. Name a song or large animal.” “I’m bilingual: I speak Klingon. nuqDaq yuch Dapol?” “I love cats. You can’t beat a calico kitten for flavor.” “Shush, I’m texting!” “Let me check with my mommy.” “Ooh, the laxative just kicked in.” “This isn’t a date.” “Thou yeasty common-kissing barnacle! Sorry, but I suffer from Shakespearean Tourette’s. Do you like seafood?”

(There’s no accounting for the bad poet inside me.) My heart beats exponentially for you, thump thump, thump thump, endangering my pocket protector whose pens shoot out like Cupid’s love arrows, quick shooting and stabbing, tenderly all night. Your two brown eyes, like seeing zeros which I colored inside with a Ticonderoga No. 2 pencil, do they see my compounding interest? Baby, you can count on my return. For, line upon line, you arouse my calculation like something my clients say they will keep track of day by day all year long but instead panic and do in one day at the last possible day.

One half-pint. The human average amounts to one cup of foot sweat per day. (At first I typed food sweat . Eww.) That’s what I learned this week. Here's some proof: The Why Files and Dr. Scholl's

(Click “the Snowdrop” below to see it full-size.) Last Friday’s Illustration Friday assignment was to illustrate the word “Blanket”. Given the wintryness outside my window, I'm picturing a cool blanket of white snow being poked through by flowers. Dainty spring buds are tough little buggers. My tulip ain’t technically a snowdrop—but then that white stuff’s not actually snow. Up for a read? Read the whole story at Hans Christian Andersen Center . And my answer to Illustration Friday’s ( IF website ) assignment to illustrate “Blanket”. Illustrations make use of a cut from Briar Press .

Kleenex cascade hand soap TP Prostitute Listed on a Post-It note found in a Texas bookstore. It now lives on page 66 of “ Found Magazine #4”.

Golden brown and bent at the waist, the Chinese fortune cookies look promising. The crisp hard shell snaps open like a gift, confetti crumblies splashing into my translucent green tea. Tucked away inside is a special message meant only for me. Me. The white slip of paper slides out, scraping against a sharp cookie edge. I unfold it, holding my breath. A bird in the hand makes it awfully hard to blow your nose. I would say so. But why—why would I? What I want to know is what I do not know. After-dinner oracle, tell me a fortune that brings my future to me. You are dreaming. It is time to wake up now. No. That’s not the speak I expect. Crispy after-dinner treats give insight into their eater’s future, not pithy commentary. Back in the day—not all the way back to scurvy, outhouses, and pinochle either—fortune cookies told fortunes. Real tangible fortunes like Expect miracles in two weeks or A stranger will become your best friend or even You’ve got mail . Just one fortu...

Humor tidbits from here and there. Can Anyone Learn to Be Funny? – by John Kinde Learning humor is like learning to play the piano. Chopsticks anyone? Humor: Tips for unpublished writers – by Robert Crane Robert says, "If you are unpublished, you are one of my peeps." I smell chicken. Humor: Tips for Using it in Everyday Conversation – by Cy Eberhart A look at what goes into a successful joke. Humor Skills: What People Find Offensive – by John Kinde Twelve factors about our human nature help understand why not everyone thinks farting's funny. Apparently these folks exist. Joke & Story Writing Tips – by Laugh Disorder Short 'n' sweet. Ventriloquist tips: Learn how to become a ventriloquist – by Burgher's Entertainment Haven't you wondered? Writing tips: Understanding humor (1) – by Rob O'Hannon Anyone who does not understand what the word "humor" means raise your tentacle. Writing tips: Understanding humor (2) – by Kate Shea Writi...