Better Late Than Dead!

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Sun Quandary

The Sun didn’t come up this morning. I went outside and threw rocks up in the sky to try and wake up the Sun. Finally one of the rocks hit the Sun.

The Sun said, “What the…?”

I apologized and said that the Sun was late for work.

The Sun said, “I’m quitting! You do it!”

I said I didn’t have the necessary illumination qualities. The Sun didn’t say anything.

So for about an hour I strained really hard to shine. But I couldn’t create light. So I gave up and sat on the ground.

From the sky I heard the Sun say, “It’s not that easy, is it?”

I said, “I never said it was.”

The Sun said, “Alright, whatever.”

The Sun came out in full. Everything was lit up.

I said, “What was that all about then?”

The Sun said, “You get what you pay for.”


In Order to Park

I had trouble finding a parking space at the mall. My friend, Ferdinand, along for the ride, said, “You need to think positively so you can manifest a parking space.”

I said no thanks, and pressed the Time Travel button on my car dashboard. I typed in the moment of the Big Bang. There was a tremendous explosion as we found ourselves in the midst of the first moment. I reached out the window of my car and slightly altered the trajectory of a flying projectile.

Then I pressed the Time Travel button, followed by today’s date. We were suddenly back in the parking lot.

I happily parked in open space, just steps away from the entrance to the mall.

Ferdinand, in a daze said, “I don’t understand what just happened?”

I said, “Everything is set in stone from the moment of the Big Bang. Rather than fight against billions of years of momentum to try and get my way, I find it much easier to tweak the beginning.”



Me: God, what’s my purpose in life?
God: Well, you don’t have one.
Me: What do you mean?
Me: You have many purposes. I created you to do billions of little things, just like everyone else.
Me: But don’t I have an overall purpose?
God: No.
Me: That sucks.
God: Let’s call you, ‘He who is responsible for doing an assemblage of tasks under the moniker of Brooks.’
Me: Really?
God: Yes.
Me: Wow, I’m special after all.


The Shovel’s Tale

Last week, the shovel said, “Hey, come over here.”

I went because I really like shovels.

I said, “What?”

The shovel said, “Let’s dig a hole.”

I asked what we would put in it.

The shovel said, “Me.”

I asked why.

The shovel said, “I’m tired of digging holes for others. I’d like to dig one for myself, and be buried in that hole.”

I said, “But what would you do while underground?”

The shovel said, “I think the metal part of me would break down and return to the earth as minerals, and the wood part of me would sprout and become a tree again.”

I said okay, dug the hole, put the shovel in it, and used my hands to fill the hole back up with dirt.

Everyday, I’ve been watering the spot where the shovel was buried. I actually check the ground for a sprout. I know it’s only been a week, but I’m prone to impatience.