Wrote this for my English Final for college. We had to use a island, bowling trophy, and a third object.
I awoke to waves crashing on the beach a few hours later. On my inflatable Sealy posturepedic clutching a bowling trophy as I would be clutching my dear lost Elmo. As I crawled from my sleeping quarters I was taken by a shiny object in the distance. Moving swiftly to avoid the crabs (that my friends so warned me about) I found it to be a Bissell. Curiosity took a toll as I pondered this objects existence, for many seconds, concluding that this was Gods way of telling me to clean up my act. I strapped the omen on like the Australian fantasy man in the commercials.
I wandered around the blood island for hours looking for salvation. Upon the horizon I saw an outline of what appeared to be sanctuary. Ramming down the door and falling to the floor, it dawned on me excessive force wasn't so necessary. In disbelief, I was overjoyed at my discovery of a rum-runners cache. So I sit and reflect on my 007 legacy and I hear a sound, a sound I say. What could it be? I turn to investigate this oddity and behold the tiniest of marmoset monkey setting up shots of a dark liquid with gentle precision. I cautiously move to the table, he tips the bottle as if to invite me for a drink. As I pick up this dark nectar of the gods a screech rises and a friendship is born.
Short story by SLM
Read 1234 times
Written on 2008-02-15 at 04:12
Tags Funny Drunk Short
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Diaries of a Drunk Confused Straight Man
After a tragic loss due to my pet hamster Elmo experimenting in a Britney Spears lifestyle (I was tired of the phony British accent anyways.) I took the advice of my grief counselor and went on an out to sea adventure. He still thinks Elmo is my brother. As I'm in a port in Italy, I stumble onto the wrong boat. This is where my 007 legacy begins. I awake from my two day Italian wine hangover, to discover an Ellen DeGeneres utopia. I'm on a lesbian cruise ship. So I take it in stride and do what any sensible young man would do and head to the bar. And wait for the next port. After a couple of toddy's of rum and rum a few dirty looks. I manage to drink my way into the captain's quarters with her wife. Time stood still as the hours passed as minutes. How was I to know her curiosity with an alternative lifestyle of x on y chromosomes would take so long. That is long enough for word to reach the ships bridge. Suddenly as the baritone voice of the captain billowed down the hall, sobriety occurred. I was fifteen all over again. I jumped to my feet into my knickers like a cheetah in heat. I lunged for the balcony scaling to the closest life raft. As I departed my paradise the last thing I recollect was a sharp pain from a strike on the left side of my head.I awoke to waves crashing on the beach a few hours later. On my inflatable Sealy posturepedic clutching a bowling trophy as I would be clutching my dear lost Elmo. As I crawled from my sleeping quarters I was taken by a shiny object in the distance. Moving swiftly to avoid the crabs (that my friends so warned me about) I found it to be a Bissell. Curiosity took a toll as I pondered this objects existence, for many seconds, concluding that this was Gods way of telling me to clean up my act. I strapped the omen on like the Australian fantasy man in the commercials.
I wandered around the blood island for hours looking for salvation. Upon the horizon I saw an outline of what appeared to be sanctuary. Ramming down the door and falling to the floor, it dawned on me excessive force wasn't so necessary. In disbelief, I was overjoyed at my discovery of a rum-runners cache. So I sit and reflect on my 007 legacy and I hear a sound, a sound I say. What could it be? I turn to investigate this oddity and behold the tiniest of marmoset monkey setting up shots of a dark liquid with gentle precision. I cautiously move to the table, he tips the bottle as if to invite me for a drink. As I pick up this dark nectar of the gods a screech rises and a friendship is born.
Short story by SLM
Read 1234 times
Written on 2008-02-15 at 04:12
Tags Funny Drunk Short
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Kathy Lockhart |
