busterfang's Stories

Ultimate Love Song

2007-08-22T16:22:52Z

But at some point you have a brief moment of clarity and realize that you have been reliving this moment your whole life. First it was with Elvis when you were in your teens and then with Paul, John George, and Ringo during the Sixties. Remember Michael Bolton? You had a stage where he was the object of your affection too.

Every new idol became your idol and every new superstar became your one true love. Every song about love was your song about love.

Was real life that bad? Was escape that fufiling? Maybe not, but you’ve got to admit that the boy bands from about a decade ago did fill a void.

And now you’re confined to this bed and that old guy with no hair on his head but plenty of it coming out of his ears wipes off your face with a cool cloth and with all the wear and tear of the years showing on his face he leans down and whispers in your ear, “You are the sunshine of my life…”.

And you finally realize that your life has been a love song and it is good.

Hoping for Glory

2007-08-22T16:00:02Z

As I went through my initiation I remember thinking how fortunate I was to be a bullet. Unlike rocks or pencils, my mission was to take out the bad guys and make the world a safer place for all the innocent people. If I was lucky I might end up taking down a serial killer or a mass murderer and become a hero.

I felt a tremor and realized that my fellow bullets and I were on the move. The bullet next to me in the box whispered, “I think someone just bought us. I think we are leaving the store. I think we are on the path to our destiny.”

We all shivered when we heard those words. We were on our way to right a wrong and to make the world safer.

I felt myself being put into the gun and could barely contain my excitment knowing that soon I would be released and be able to provide justice.

There was an explosion and I both saw and felt the man lift up the child and scream as blood came poring out of her. She was only 3 years old. What had I done? This wasn’t what I had been made for.

Under Her Spell

2007-08-21T22:59:55Z

“Does this smell OK to you?”

When Julie asked me that question I didn’t know how to answer. First of all, I didn’t want to smell it at all because, let’s be honest, it might stink. It might be some kind of rancid smell or something. Then again I was afraid if I didn’t smell it I might hurt her feelings and we were still in the new stages of dating where I couldn’t just say something like ‘get outta here’.

All I could think of was, why is she asking me this? What does she want me to say? Am I going to blow it with her? So slowly I walked over to the stove and looked at the pot full of bubbling “something”.

I decided that the most diplomatic answer would be to tell her that it smelled exactly like it should. I figured I couldn’t go wrong with an answer like that.

So I bent over the pot and took a deep breath. I heard Julie say, “Breath it in, Tony. Smell the essence. And now you will do whatever I tell you to do. First of all, I want you to…”

Reality Starts to Creep In

2007-08-21T18:02:53Z

With sunlight streaming in the window, he aburptly woke up the next morning still in his study seated at his desk. The fireplace was cold and the book was now only a pile of ashes. His first thought was that he better cut back on the drinking because it was causing him to hallucinate.

His second thought was how real the hallucination had seemed. He could vividly remember reading page after page of lies. But he could also remember there was a good amount of truth mixed in. It was all so hazy because over the last 24 years he had tried so hard to block it all out.

But at least now he was awake and a few cups of strong coffee would set him to rights. Then he could figure this whole mess out. As he got up from his desk he turned to his bookcase and saw that two copies of ‘Portent’ were now lined up on the middle shelf.

As his face turned white, everything else around him was turning black. As his knees buckled he moaned, “Ramona, Ramona, release me from this torture.”

Visions of Greatness Prior to the Last Word

2007-08-21T17:53:29Z

Ed took early retirement at age 49 without formulating any plan as to what he would do next. So while his wife continued to work each day as a high-end relator, Ed found himself with plenty of time on his hands and no idea of what to do with it.

Each day Ed would take Zippy, the family’s Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier, over to the dog park and let “the Zipster” hang out with his doggy buddies for an hour. Like most dogs, Zippy spent most of the hour peeing on everything he could find so that future visitors would know that he had been there.

In some ways Ed was jealous of Zippy. There were no expectations for him. All he had to do was be a dog. Ed suddenly had the idea that maybe Zip could become his ticket back to the real world! He could become a dog groomer and use Zip as his inspiration or he could invent a new dog food and make millions using Zip as his guinea pig. What about becoming a dog walker? OR maybe he could finally train Zippy and who knows what would happen?

The Last Word

2007-08-21T15:11:52Z

“Ed, get that damn dog off of my couch,” Mary Lou shouted.

“It’s bad enough that it costs more to get his hair done then mine and that he appears to be deaf half the time. Now you have taught him to play dead on the furniture? What is wrong with you?”

“Ah, come on honey, you’ve got to admit this is just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. It took me hours to train him to do this.”

“Ed, sweetie, you’ve got way too much time on your hands. I think it is time to reconsider early retirement and perhaps think about getting another job.”

“You know something, Mary Lou? Hollywood is always looking for fresh talent. Zippy here could be a STAR .”

“Ed, I do not want to burst your bubble but there is just not a lot of demand for stunt dogs in Hollywood, especially one that only knows one trick. Now if you could teach him to snore while playing dead, we might have a winner!”

Zippy yawned, turned his head to the side and said, “Would you two please shut up. I am trying to get some sleep.”

Find Mr. Right On-Line

2007-08-21T05:58:37Z

~~— JULIET LOOKING FOR HER ROMEO -~~-

Profile: Fun loving, down to earth gal looking for Mr. Right.

I love walks on the beach, cuddling, and cooking romantic meals for my man. But I can also shoot a mean game of pool, hold my own in a line dancing competition, and brand the cattle on your ranch.

As you can tell from my picture I prefer the natural look which allows my inner beauty to shine through. I have long flowing hair that your will love to run your hands through.

Turn ons: Rich guys, trips abroad, cruises, guys who own lots of property.

Turn offs: Superficial guys, wage earners, guys with no arms.

My ideal Mr. Right is still breathing and able to chew his own food. Other than that, I’m not too picky.

If you think you are man enough for a woman like me, let’s arrange a hook-up and perhaps have dinner on your yacht.

—-contact Juliet 2453 at HotBabes for You

I Ain't Monkeying Around...

2007-08-20T22:17:22Z

The monkeys told me I’d find you here and naturally they were right. These days I find the monkeys are almost always right and the polar bears are usually wrong.

But it wasn’t always like this. Before the polar bears were the only ones I could trust. They would give me their input and opinions and I could count on them. But then they hooked up with the tigers and everyone knows that you can never rely on a tiger.

But I digress. You are here to talk about my husband being shot 17 times in the back. As I told you before, I had no idea that Jay Leno could shoot bullets from his eyes out of the TV. I mean I saw him do it and it was pretty darn scary. And my husband never did a darn thing to Jay Leno.

I called the police as soon as it happened and they came out right away. But it was just too late. They acted like they didn’t believe me at all when I told them what had happened.

I mean, why would I make that up? To make up something like that I would have to be crazy, wouldn’t I?

The Return of Doggie Breath Dipstick

2007-08-20T21:20:05Z

I hadn’t seen him in ten years. In the beginning I was heartbroken and sat by the phone hoping for a call and wandered the streets screaming out his name. But eventually I moved on and found Jake.

Jake was different. He was a boxer. He had cute ears. I know that’s not usually comes to mind when you think of a boxer, but it’s the truth! We were together only 3 years. One day he was horsing around with the kids next door and ran into the street to grab a ball for them. He didn’t see the car, the car didn’t see him. That was the end (literally) of Jake.

Two years later I hooked up with Max but we were incompatible and soon went our separate ways. Although painful, it was for the best.

Then today I got the call asking me if I was the owner of Doggie Breath Dipstick. His owner had recently died and when the vet checked him out he found he had a microchip implanted that stated I was really his owner. Go figure—that goofy mutt had been missing for 10 years.

The Last Word on Onions

2007-08-19T22:57:01Z

Noelle could not believe that Jason actually had rules about onions. Actually Jason had rules about everything, but having rules about onions just about said it all.

Onions needed to be thick sliced for hamburgers unless they were strong onions; then they needed to be sauted. For hot dogs, onions should be diced. In salads only use green onions and never put onions in sloppy joes. If Noelle was making onion soup she needed to first slice the onions and then cut them into quarters so that they would fit in a spoon nicely and not hang over the edge.

One day Noelle’s mom came to dinner and sliced regular yellow onions into the salad she was helping Noelle make for dinner. Noelle didn’t know what would be worse, picking the onions out of the salad and having to listen to her mom berate her or serving the salad and possibly having Jason fling the salad, bowl and all, onto the floor screaming at her that she broke the rules.

When Noelle finally left Jason her note stated, “It all started with the onions.”

Mixed Signals

2007-08-19T20:34:46Z

“Are they watching us? Can you tell?”

“Of course they’re watching us, they’re males. That’s why we chose this form.”

“But Rosie, what if they don’t come out here and try to talk to us? How can we take them if they are standing so far away?”

“This is why they sent you out with me. I have been doing this stuff for centuries. Watch and learn. Trust me, they will be out here soon. I made sure that we are irresistible. We are in our 20s with great figures, long hair, and little bathing suits standing in the heat. They are both male, and acting dominate. Look at them, they are definitely interested.”

“Rosie, they are both chasing a stick. Oh, now they are both rolling on their backs. Are you sure this is going to work?”

“The book is clear on this. A female in heat giving out the right signals will attract the male. We are the right sex, hot, and giving out the right signals.”

“But are we the right species, Rosie? Something isn’t right. Those dogs are walking on four legs, not two.”

Who's in charge here?

2007-08-19T19:58:56Z

The day my mother died I was calm. She had been ill for a long time and we were so blessed that she passed before she really started suffering. It would have been so hard to watch her be in pain and be powerless to help her. So overall, I felt like I was doing okay.

I was asked by the funeral home to write up whatever I wanted her obituary to say. I wanted to say so much—I wanted the world to know that she mattered, she was loved, and she would be missed. I sat at the computer with fingers poised above the keyboard and wham! What is is this? I can’t breath, I am going to black out, I am terrified because I know I am dying.

_“Panic attack? I don’t think so. I am 40 years old and have never had anything like this happen before.” _ The doctor smiled and welcomed me to world of emotions that have their own way of letting themselves be heard.

She told me that often they get worse before they get better and that I need to remember to just breath through it – it will pass.

The Stories I Could Tell

2007-08-19T19:35:56Z

Dignity? Once you get to be my age you don’t even care about it. If I cared would I be walking in public with my nylons down around my ankles?

Me, who was the Queen of the Harvest Moon Ball in 1950. But that was before life got me down. You will never know what I’ve been through. I’ve lost children to war and to drunk drivers. I have buried two husbands—okay, I only cared about one of them, but still…

I used to have faith and believe that there was more good in the world than evil. I used to believe that my government would take care of me when I got too old to take care of myself.

I actually thought the Peace Corps was a good idea and could help change the world. But the world is a powerful enemy. It can get you down. It doesn’t happen all at once, but slowly over many years.

The stories I could tell, if only I could remember them.