Lingo Slinger

Yes it’s true… A story can get shorter than a piece of flash, which is my usual savoire laze fare! It’s kind of hard to write involved and enthralling pieces when you have two shrieking divas in the background who are often fighting, screaming for no apparant reason, or pretending to be very loud high pitched dogs who don’t know how to do anything other than bark.

It’s true. This is my reality. Which is why I’m just not that great of a blogger. But whatever, I am not one of these dedicated bitches who can write every day and have a killer blog with thousands of followers. Maybe one day, when life gets less complicated. For now I’ll settle for inconsistent turds of creativity every now and then.

So back to stories for lazy twats… I write them on Twitter. They are less than 140 characters and totally random (same with when they are posted). I thought I would post some of my more recent ones here for you to enjoy, since I am too much of a lazy twat myself to write anything lengthier.

Enjoy…

He was an odd man who refused to eat anything green. Had an immense fear of fungus. He died suddenly when he looked at his wife’s toes.

She just couldn’t seem to deal with life. Always stressed out and paranoid, twitchy & weird. That was before she met her new friend Oxy.

He liked lavender in his bath and seasoned his pans. Didn’t drink beer or like sports fans. At least he appreciated a good set of cans!

I wasn’t prepared when my 5 yr old asked me what the meaning of life was. Nor was I prepared when he asked me if the answer was work.

I sensed that people only came to my meeting for the free sandwiches because when I started my presentation, they left.

Missy was a bit of a bimbo, but a happy harmless one. People never seemed to look her in the eyes though. Must’ve been those double Es.

Ted had a horrible case of halitosis. However, he was oblivious about his condition, even when coworkers gagged while speaking to him.

He showed up on my doorstep with a bag of frozen peas and some crab cakes. “I brought dinner” he said. It was 3am. He was drunk.

He was a choir boy and I was Satan, or at least that’s what his mother thought. Until I told her about his huge porn collection.

He had to push his car windows up with his hands, and that didn’t always work. But he sure looked cool cruising to gangster beats.

He was the office turd. Most of us had a hard time not punching him in the face. That’s why we set JELL-O in his desk drawers.

He drank JD in the graveyard by his wifes tomb every Friday. When I asked him why he said “I’m not done arguing with that bitch”.

Sonny was a bit shifty. Never looked you in the eye and had a paranoid twitch. But he always seemed normal under a strobe light.

She didn’t feel comfortable being in a church, but had no problem giving an arduous blow job to a horny reverend behind the arena.

If you kinda like these… You can always follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/selinajane

Or not. Up to you!

Bye for now!

xo