Yet More Drabbles!

Drabbles are stories with exactly 100 words. The challenge is to fit all the necessary parts of a story into such a limited number of words! Check this one out:

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Arthur Bench was a hardworking carpenter. From dusk till dawn, he saw to put supper on the table. Every Sunday he would come to pray at that very spot. As a bored lad he sat there, carving pictures into the wood. As a nervous groom he stood there, waiting for his bride. As a proud father he wept there, witnessing his child's baptism. Thus, it is almost of divine satire that a cupboard would fall through the roof of this church and land on that very spot. To commemorate his unfortunate demise, the replacement pew will be named "A Bench".

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What is Euro Tart?

Euro tart [yoo r-oh tahrt]

-noun

1. a topless pie containing fruit from Europe

2. a covered pie containing fruit from Europe

3. Slang . a prostitute or promiscuous woman from Europe

4. Slang . a sexually ambiguous man from Europe

5. Slang . a plain frozen yogurt

After the infiltration and success of bubble-tea, Gong-cha and other non-alcoholic liquid concoctions from Taiwan, fries from New York and Ireland, gelato from Italy, doughnuts and cupcakes from America (both of which have already or are bound to fail), Euro Tart is like the next big thing right now in Hong Kong.

As if we don't have enough prostitutes and gays already!

Seriously though, I believe we do need more food in the famished streets of Mong Kok and Causeway Bay. People are absolutely starving from the siu mais, curry fishballs, beef innards, sausages, fried chicken thighs and stinky tofu. Not to mention the limited selection of desserts like peanut butter waffles, mango sagos, shaved ice (also from Taiwan) and germ-infested ice cream cones are really starting to annoy the people of Hong Kong.

And it's not the watery, non-fat, has-it-gone-bad-tasting yogurt we're used to either! Trust me, Euro Tart is here to stay. I've tried it, and it's freaking amazing!

The filth that came out of that woman's mouth and ditto the man put in his...

Yum!

Picture taken by the one who introduced me to it, PimpMamaT.

Say Scandalicious

A friend of mine from college is starting to help out on the family business which produces confectionery and sweet treats. We got to talking and in our brief brainstorm, we came up with Scandy: Candy for the Scandalous. So naughty it's scandalicious.

The concept was to market beautifully crafted confectionery which resemble objects that exude sexuality. The launch Scandy will be edible panties and underwear, aptly dubbed Scanties: Lick to Remove. They can then come up with different flavors and designs, like lacy black for licorice, sporty red for cherry and push-up white for a milky flavor.

This is a wonderfully marketable package because sex sells! And the word Scandelicious just rolls off the tongue like you're giving fellatio.

Plus, Scandy will make the perfect gift for your woman. It sure beats trying to pick something out at Victoria Secrets.

I remember the first time I had the preposterous notion of getting my girlfriend underwear as a present. I walked past the Victoria Secret's store umpteen times, bearing the weight of the Angel's feather-covered breasts hanging from a 30-feet billboard with each pass. Only on the eighteenth pass did I gather enough courage to push through those heavy golden doors with the ornate handles.

A gust of orgasmic femininity exhumed from the store which almost made me come. I was greeted by shelves and shelves of bras, negligees and panties of all different shapes, sizes and color. Life-sized posters of the Angels lined the walls. I can hear cupids flapping their wings and strumming harps. Everything was a combination of gold or pink and feathery or lush. The cupids were gold and feathery and the carpets were pink and lush. It was a three-way between heaven, Hugh Hefner's crib and a strip club.

There were barely any people in the store, and all those who were gave me an icy stare as if I was holding a sign with an arrow pointing down at me that read "repeated sex offender".

I was petrified!

These people must think I'm an absolute pervert! I noticed one of the saleswomen making a move. I wasn't sure if she was approaching to serve me or going to call the police. I didn't want to find out, so I got out of there pronto.

Gee, when's Scandy coming out?

How to Become a Supermarket Bouncer (or not...)

I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the bravest or most courageous soul out there. A lot of things frighten me. There are the big issues like death, wasted potential and unplanned pregnancy, but a lot of little things... things that don't exactly put the fear of God in me, but rattles my nerves a little, gets me worked up.

Have you ever been in line at the cashier of a supermarket with your spouse? And there're maybe 2 or 3 parties ahead of you. Then suddenly, your partner gives you that look. A dreadful look that perhaps the shopping done so far is incomplete, and you hear those words of abandonment, "Honey, I think we're out of margarine. You wait in line while I go get it..." And you're left there in line. Alone. Praying that she returns in time before the cashier is done with the 3 parties in front of you.

Oh no! One's already done, 2 more parties to go before it's your turn.

And you know how supermarkets are, they're designed to lead the average shopper astray. They always put things you don't really need but are always interested in trying, near the really important stuff. Like you'll find organic blueberry cheese spread, next to milk!

So in your mind, you're thinking how much longer can she take? You start taking mental notes of the items in the carts of the people in front of you. You hope that they're pushing a cart, and not just holding a basket. Or worse, they might just be holding a 6-pack of beer and gum. Then you really start to panic. You look around the supermarket trying to spot her running back to you with margarine. You don't see her. And even if you did, she's not running. She's still looking around for more stuff to buy, because that's just what supermarkets do to you!

Now when the parties ahead dwindle to just 1, you start wondering: Alright, should I let the person behind me go ahead? This business with letting someone behind you go ahead is just plain awkward. I mean, who gave you the right to be the cashier bouncer? "Ok, you. You in the blonde may go ahead of me. No, not you old man. What are those adult diapers? You must wait your turn like everybody else."

The other option is to brave it and go ahead when it's your turn. However, you run the risk of having her returning with the margarine after everything is paid for. Then, you'll just be cutting in line because now, you would have made TWO transactions.

But, funny how things work, they always make it back in time, at two possible moments.

One, the preferred one, is when the cashier is still ringing things up, she joins you from the front of the line, slips the margarine with the rest of the shopping, you pay, awkwardness subdued.

Two, you have already made the mistake of letting the person behind you go ahead. Now she's looking for a way to rejoin you. You resume your role of cashier bouncer and try to wave her in. But those aisles are built so narrow, that theres's just no way to weave into the front of the line. She'll knock down the entire shelf of Wriggley's and Durex just trying!

Incidentally, have you noticed, that gum, is looking more and more like condoms, while condoms, are looking more and more like gum? Is this a subtle marketing strategy to suggest that condoms make penises taste better? What with all the flavors...

So she can't rejoin you from the back. Instead, she goes to the front of the line and wait. What are all those people at the back of the line going to think? "OMG, this lady with the margarine is NOT just cutting in front the line!" And the poor woman you let go ahead of you is now being flanked by yourself and your partner!

"What took you so long?"

"I made it back in time didn't I?"

"Another minute and I'd have to let another one go ahead of me!"

"Oh c'mon! You didn't even have to let this woman ahead of you."

"Yeah? Well next time you wait in line while I go get the margarine."

"The margarine? Shit! I got these pineapple-centered cocktail sausages instead."

"What the f...!"

"They had a promotion! Here, I"ll be right back."

She throws the pack of wieners over, lands on the poor woman's head and she's off leaving you to tend to your responsibilities as the cashier bouncer once again.

Things I Don't Know About and May Never Find Out Episode 1: McDonald's French Fries

Why is it so tasty? What is the secret ingredient? Is there a secret ingredient, or is it just potato? Do they fry it in pig oil? Will I ever be able to make it at home? Why does it taste like crap once it gets cold? If I ask for unsalted fries, do they spit in it? Does McDonald's have their own farm? How many potatoes do they buy and make into fries every year? How much does fries really cost McDonald's? How much fries can you eat at one sitting before you flat-line? Why is it yellow and not golden like they claim it to be? Will McDonald's ever come up with an "all-you-can-eat" serving of fries? How will they price it? Will McDonald's ever go with organic potatoes to make their fries? Will it still taste the same? Do large fries really have more fries than medium fries? Or is it just an optical illusion achieved by the height of the iconic red cardboard sleeve they come in? How come McDonald's never run out of fries? If potatoes were to go the way of the Dodo bird, can McDonald's still survive? What will they come up with as an alternative? Fried yam sticks? If Burger King, Jack in the Box, Carl's Jr, Inn 'n Out et al controlled all the potato in the world, can they threaten McDonald's? Why does McDonald's still have to do marketing? Does McDonald's pay for the Happy Meal toy licenses, or do the license holders give it to them for free as a promotional vehicle? Will there ever be an iPhone app that tells me which McDonald's closest to my current location has just fried up a fresh batch of fries? Where are fries made? Which is more secret: KFC's original recipe or McDonald's French fries? If Danny Ocean had to form a new team to steal McDonald's French fries recipe, how many and who'd he recruit and why? Will they fail because McDonald's French fries is in fact more secretive than KFC's original recipe? Will Ethan Hunt have a better chance? Jason Borne? Dora the Explorer? What if the secret recipe required a ritual which sacrificed virgins? Will McDonald's still be allowed to make 'em? Will you still eat it if they were? What if it was a scam? Who do you think would be smart enough to stage such a sabotage? Jack? Burger King? The Colonel? Carl? Gordon Ramsey?

Deify the False

Just watched "The Invention of Lying", a movie starring Ricky Gervais, one of my favorite comedians and writers of all time. Very talented and genuinely narcissistic.

The movie imagines a world where lying was never invented, and many comical scenarios play out in the most outrageous ways, finally leading up to the creation of a pseudo religion. Gervais is an outspoken atheist and this is clearly an indulgent plot development.

I remember the worst beatings I got from mom was for lying. Alas, physical punishment must not have worked on me, for I too am a violator of honesty. Lying has become so grossly pervasive in our lives, that we ENJOY raveling in deceit.

I'll be the first to admit, that I absolutely adore women's cleavage. I just love it! The line of sight down the middle of two spherical mass of flesh and the suggestion of what treasures lie waiting beneath is such a turn on. C-cup? D? E?? Or the Holy Grail of Grails, Double-D's??? Alas, even A's and B's can turn into fountains of fantasy with implants and push-up bras. The treachery!

Still, I don't enjoy it any less!

Until the truth comes out, of course... Then you're just plain disappointed.

But MEN, men are even worse in the department of infernal affairs. Fat men wear black to disguise their obesity ("Guilty as charged!")... Altitude-challenged men become beefcakes to hide their height (or lack there of)... Older men wear the most colorful drab they can get their withered fingers on at Bathing Ape to look younger (or queerer)... Queer men... Actually queer men are quite honest, to be honest. They dress, talk, walk and act the part. And can you imagine the courage of coming out that straight closet? Ballsy!

And the things we say to each other, what farce!

"Aww... today's your last day? Let's keep in touch!"

"Looks aren't as important to me as chemistry."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

Umm... no it's not. Megan Fox is universally hot, and Ugly Betty is Ugly freaking Betty. One exception: White men's taste in Asian women. I know they can cook and speak English and everything, but Filipinos? And Lucy Liu? Shit, I'd make fun of her eyes!

"I'm gonna fuck your brains out!"

What? Are you sure you want to do that? Because I sure as hell don't recommend it! Imagine the clean-up afterwards! You've go to change the sheets, pillow casing, repaint the walls the victim is a squirter. It's just going to be an absolute mess.

Horatio and co. will have a field day at that crime scene...