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There’s always a problem.

There’s always a problem.

I sleep every night in a giant cupcake. It’s chocolate raspberry with sprinkles. I burrow a hole in the side, and lay down with a blanket. It’s cozy and I fall asleep within seconds. When I wake up, the giant cupcake is always gone and my face is covered with crumbs. I guess what bothers me is that I never get to taste the bouffant confection.

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Looking for a boost

Looking for a boost

I was feeling low and unacknowledged, so I and got in my time machine and rode to Ford’s Theater in Washington, DC, April 15, 1865, 9:30pm. I went into the lobby and asked out loud if I could talk with the person in charge of security. A tall and rough looking man named, Geyser McMillan came up to me and asked what was the matter. I said I had it on good information that someone would try and harm the President. Geyser said he didn’t see how that was possible since the President’s balcony box seats were guarded by a solider. I said I had it from a really good source that that wasn’t true. Geyser looked me hard in the eyes and I didn’t flinch. He nodded and ran up the stairs. I followed.

We reached the upper floor and saw a figure enter through the unguarded door to the President’s seating area. Geyser and I entered through that door and saw a man aiming a pistol at President Lincoln’s head. Geyser grabbed the man’s arm and there was a struggle. The President turned around and seeing the scuffle, grabbed his wife and ran out of the seating area. Geyser succeeded in getting the gun from the man, and put him in handcuffs. The man turned out to be the famous actor John Wilkes Booth. Booth was lead away and taken to the police station.

The President thanked me upon hearing that I was the source of information that lead to the arrest. He brought me up on stage and announced in his loud orator’s voice to the confused audience that I had foiled a plot to assassinate him. The audience gave me a thunderous two-hour standing ovation, and chanted, “Thank you, oh great Brooks Palmer!” I was taken by the President and his wife to dine at Old Ebbitt Grill. I had two plates of the Shrimp Etouffee. When word spread through the restaurant of my efforts, I was given another standing ovation, though this one only lasted last forty minutes.

That night I stayed over at the White House in the Millard Fillmore room. I had fourteen attendants ready to take care of any of my needs. I had them fluff my pillow over ten times that night. The next day there was a parade in my honor down Pennsylvania Avenue that stretched 17 blocks.

After that I got in my time-travel machine and came back home. I sat on my couch. I was feeling better than when I’d left. I finally felt that I actually mattered.

But then I started to feel low again.

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Space truckin’

Space truckin’

While flying my twin engine airplane, I zoned out and didn’t look where I was going. When I came too I realized I’d just popped out of the atmosphere. Above me was space. Below was the bright blue Earth. Luckily I’m good at holding my breath. When I was a kid I used to stay underwater in the community pool for up to thirty minutes. I liked the deep quiet, plus it allowed me to imagine I was amphibian and wouldn’t have to go to school anymore.

I flew around for a while in space and soon encountered a pack of space walruses. They are very much like sea walruses but are blue, have yellow spots, and have tusks three times the normal size. The space walruses are able to live in space because they now and then dip their snouts into the atmosphere for an oxygen snort and come back to space and cavort.

A shooting star happened by and I tossed out a rope with a hook that latched onto the star and went for a wild ride. I was pulled so fast that I thought my plane would shred to pieces, which is what happened. I desperately hung on to the rope. The nice thing is the shooting star traveled around the Earth in about a minute and I got to see a lot of my favorite countries like Australia, Uruguay, and Burkina Faso.

But soon the shooting star fizzled out and I was left in space hanging onto a big rock. On a whim I took out the pen I always keep in my pocket with a pad of paper in case I get any good ideas, and I used the pen to chisel my way into the big rock. The inside was hallow and I curled up and relaxed. I like relaxing. I don’t know why.

I sensed that I’d soon be in need of oxygen. I didn’t have a plan. So I sat and waited for the next thing to happen. Soon I heard a wobbling sound. I stuck my head out of the big rock and saw a space bubble floating by. Basically they are oxygen farts from the atmosphere that bubble up into space. I leapt off the big rock, landed on the space bubble, and space paddled to the atmosphere.

I popped back into the Earth’s air and descended rapidly. The force of the compressed air around me disintegrated my clothing and now I was falling naked. Although my situation was desperate, swiftly moving through the air felt tingly on my skin. Luckily I landed with a nice dive into the Indian Ocean. I could tell which ocean because I saw those letters on the water just before I splashed down.

I went deep into the water and touched the sandy bottom. I really like sand. There’s something impossibly great about rocks that are so tiny, their collective presence is soft.

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The night time is the right time

The night time is the right time

The night makes me do things I wouldn’t do during the day. For instance last night I dug a hole to the center of the Earth. I don’t know why I did it. But I was glad I did because it turns out the center is filled with caramel. I like caramel.

And I wasn’t the only person there. There must have been seventy other people dining on this sweet treat. I met the Mowbson’s. They dug a tunnel over 15 years ago and dine on this candy delight every Friday night!

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What it came down to

What it came down to

God: What do you have there, Brooks?

Brooks: It’s a list of things I’d like for you to do for me.

God: Oh no.

Brooks: It’s not that long. I narrowed it down to 24 pages. Well, actually it’s 24 sheets of paper, both sides. Here, take a look.

God:….A talking Eagle named Burt? A thick head of hair like the movie critic Gene Shalit? A root beer soda fountain in your backyard?

Brooks: Yes.

God: And why do you think I would grant you these wishes?

Brooks: Because you’re nice?

God: I’m only going to do one. Which one do you want?

Brooks:…Um…Ah…Oh…

God: Would you please make up your mind!

Brooks: I’m trying, I’m trying.

God: DECIDE NOW, OR I RESCIND MY OFFER!!!

Brooks: Okay, I got it…I want the Pushmi-pullu petting zoo.

God: (waggling a finger) There you go.

The Pushmi-pullu petting zoo appeared in my backyard. I ran over and began caressing and cuddling the furry creatures with abandon. My joy was infectious. God came over to pet a Pushmi-pullu, but it bit God’s hand. God got furious and called it an impudent beast. Then God stepped in a fresh Pushmi-pullu turd and pitched a fit. I kept it to myself that these things happened because God was punishing God for scrimping on my list.



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Today, so far

Today, so far

I woke up to discover I was laying on a giant marshmallow. I didn’t go to sleep on a giant marshmallow. Yet there it was underneath me. I grabbed a hunk and put it in my mouth. It was warm because I had been laying on it. Marshmallows taste better when warm.

I was energized from the sweet treat and jumped out of bed. I landed knee deep in Sprite soda. The carbonation ticked the skin on my feet and shins. I was curious how there could be carbonation because soda exposed to the air for a while goes flat. But I pushed that thought aside and went back to the joys of the tingling.

I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Chocolate milk came out and coated my skin. I love the smell of chocolate. I makes me feel that I won the lottery because I would take that money and buy a great deal of chocolate.

When I got out of the shower I was met by a giant sheep. The sheep was standing in front of the towel rack. I realized the opportunity and rolled back and forth on the sheep until I was dry.

Birds flew in through the window and piece-by-piece stitched clothes onto me, made of what seemed to be the same ingredients that go into the making of a nest.