Tag: humor

2116 – Flash Fiction

This writing short is for my fellow females. Enjoy! 🙂

2116 

The aerial tram zipped past columns of sky gardens, their iridescent domes glimmering in the sunlight as we sped away. I winced when a sudden wave of pain stung my abdomen. I bit my lower lip, fighting off the urge to curl into the fetal position.

A perpetual anger tingled my senses, burning every last ounce of blood within me. I closed my eyes and thought of 2016. Here I was exactly one hundred years in the future—that is another story in itself.

It won’t be long, I told myself. And I’ll never have to suffer through the monthly b.s. that comes with being female ever again. There was no way they didn’t have remedies that actually worked. Hell, maybe they even had some sort of cure for the entire business—maybe one simple operation, and my body would release its damned eggs some other way.

At that thought, I tried to smile, but pain exploded in my abdomen as the tram slowed to a stop. I looked up. This was my stop.

I swallowed back the urge to cry out and staggered to the door, following the other passengers out. A glass bridge extended from the tram station’s platform. Well, it probably wasn’t glass, but it was clear and made my insides churn. I followed the line of passengers to the buildings on the other end.

They were sky scrapers of old, but everyone knew that the prime time real-estate was on the top floors. The best doctors were here. I immediately spotted MedTerraX’s bright blue windows and their neon “Welcome!” sign and headed for it.

A receptionist in a royal blue dress greeted me with a warm smile. A tablet hovered between her slander hands.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Greene. The nurse practitioner will be right with you as scheduled.” She led me into an office. I frowned. Where was the creepy bed with the stiff paper coverings? Where was the sterile smell?

It was just a single room with two chairs at the very center of it. A framed oil portrait of the CEO of GlobalTerraX hung on the opposite wall. Various self help medical posters hung below it. The door opened behind me, and in waltzed a tall man with grey hair. He wore a smart, pin-striped suit tailored to fit his muscular form. He smiled and motioned me to sit down. A tablet hovered behind him, trailing him like a loyal dog. He waved his right hand, and it flew into it.

“Okay, Ms. Greene, this won’t take long. I’m Nurse @kins. Not to worry, this is just a simple case of menstrual pain. I’m transmitting your prescription to your phone as I speak,” he said, tapping his finger on his slender tablet. The lines around his face graced his appearance, making him appear kindly. I nodded.

So the mighty cure was a pill. Fine. As long as it got rid of the constant anger and the pain. I was sick to death of having to pretend to be normal during this time of the month! I had to admit that going to the doctor in the 22nd century was a lot more efficient than in my own time.

Nurse @kins glanced up as if reading my thoughts. He smiled.

“I saw you on the news last month. So tell me, how was your experience here today? Has healthcare improved in the past century?”

“This fifteen minute trip would have been at least two hours in my day,” I said with a sheepish smile. It was true. It didn’t matter if you  showed up for your appointment on time, you still had to wait.

“All righty! I am glad to hear it. Once you get your prescription from the pharmacy, you’ll be emailed a survey that rates your experience here at MedTerraX. Please rate us. Five is excellent, and well, we won’t talk about one!” He started laughing. My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out. An icon of a yellow pill bottle was blinking on the screen. I tapped it.

500 mg ibuprofen (20 count)
3 bars of chocolate
1 box of chamomile tea

#AmEditing

This one goes out to all the writers!

One of the “joys” of writing is going back to that first draft for an edit, getting a great pace going, and suddenly stumbling upon an “innocent” little note you left yourself.

I mean, you’re busy writing and blazing through that first draft. An idea pops into your head,  you’re stuck on a scene, or you can’t figure out how to get to the next one, so you drop a note you’ll hate yourself for and move on.

I dug out the first draft of The Year is Now (TYIN) and pulled a few from the story I’m editing now (SEN) just for laughs and facepalms. I’ve added some commentary for humor 😉

[ needs moar glue ]
SKIP SKIP SKIP
ENDING
I didn’t want to write the scene when I was writing, and I don’t feel like writing it now. Thanks, Self.

[ skipping because I need to rewrite this chapter. Insert rest of the battle here! ]
From TYIN. I’m pretty sure I hated myself when I got to that gem. Writing battles requires a lot of research. Yeah. I am certain I was overjoyed at myself, ha!

Dryden and Misch bla bla waiting they enter.
From SEN. I have no idea. I haven’t reached that part yet, and I won’t be happy when I do. What even. How do I sentence?

people screamed and scattered like X.
 [ the quote from the first emperor ].
From both. #Lazy #ZeroFsToGive

SKIP SCENE COME BACK AND ADD GLUE. GONNA HATE MYSELF FOR THIS 😉
From SEN. Yes, I hated myself, like that smiley face is going to make it better. IT’S OKAY SELF, I GAVE YOU A SMILEY FACE!

Warning! Strange Glittertastic Content

What’s on your warning label?

Are you made of blunt content? Does your warning sign scream creativity? Do you spiral out of control with awesomeness? Warning labels are everywhere. They live on cleaning supplies, construction sites, equipment…you name it. I once spotted a home-made one that said “Warning: Death will Occur!” Well, at least it wasn’t in comic sans.

Wouldn’t it be interesting if we each came with our own warning patch sewn on our sleeves?  You’d immediately know if someone is made of the same brand of awesome as you are.

Strange
I enjoy science fiction and all most things weird. I cosplay, collect action figures and memorabilia, and am not shy about my interests. Strange new worlds are things I like to theorize about and weave tales through.

Glittertastic
Cats, memes, and fabulous, oh my! I can’t help but enjoy a certain corner of the Internet. Who would have thought that it would evolve into the random entity of hilarity that it is today!

I’m pretty sure I should come with at least a dozen warning labels, but for brevity’s sake, I’m going with strange and glittertastic!

Create your own warning label and post it on Facebook or Twitter!
Click on the image for full size, right click, and then save. Use your favorite photo editing program to insert your brand of awesomeness!

Coming Soon
Star Trek TOS cosplay uniform review
Glory, Pride, and the Maiden Vain Part IV: The Sham

In a Parallel Universe…

I’m knitting socks for my 15 cats. What are you doing?

Who is my alternate universe self? How many parallel universes are out there? Yes, these are questions that keep me up at night. Maybe I read too much sci-fi, or maybe my imagination is far too active, but…well, who is my alternate self?

*Warning!* Humor ahead!
~ All in good fun ~
Alternate Self #1
Senior Airman Me has been stationed at the same, stateside base for 10 years, never deployed. She slips through the cracks and does a mediocre job at best. Her uniform is never ironed, but is never crinkled like a ball of foil. She knows how to touch the line without crossing it. Getting promoted or noticed is not on her priority list. Nope.

Her priorities are Legolas, Misty, Bastet, Elrond, Haldir, Princess, Midnight, Thranduil, Tux, Minx, Binx, Pepper, Salt, Katniss, and Spock–her 15 cats. 

SrA Me is getting anxious…she has to get promoted soon, else it’s a set of civies for her! Uh Oh! Looks like it’s time to clean up all those cat toys and half finished knitting projects!

Alternate Self #2
Where SrA Me is an apathetic cat lover, Master Sergeant Me is awesome. She’s seen the world, knows jujitsu, and looks out for her subordinates. Her uniform is always pressed as though she had just walked out of the dry cleaners.

Right now she’s staring out a window in some far off place contemplating writing a novel (hey, this *is*  me, after all!). Uh oh! The phone’s ringing. It looks like she’s going to have to work late.

Who is your alternate self?

What is your alternate self doing right now?
Tell me and the world all about your alternate self on Facebook or Twitter! 

Your Pants Your Way!

I will never not have something to rant about when it comes to women’s clothing. I will beat my dead horse until my arm falls off, and even then, I’ll find something to hit it with.  This post is meant to be truthful, but most of all, humorous.

This escapade into ill fitting women’s clothing is best read with my previous women’s clothing rant in mind: Hunting Pockets.

I think I am officially giving up on women’s “work” pants. I use the term “work” loosely because designers think our work consists of going to the club and getting our dance on.

There are many women’s office pants out there (no pockets, of course) that are not of the Friday night variety, but they are not my focus today. Ladies with blue collar jobs can’t wear nice office pants.

My crappy five minute sketch says it all!

My screwdriver looks hot hanging out of my pocket like that. I love how the super low, super slim cut prevents my shirt tales from staying tucked in. I mean, I am rocking these boxes I have to move. I have to look good just for you, Box Cutter and Roll of Tape.

When I go to lift something, my screwdriver and wallet can’t contain themselves. I don’t mean to be crude, but these super awesome work pants made just for blue collar women give me a bad case of plumber’s crack.

~Fin
~I hope this gave someone of you a few good laughs.