Soggy Fries & Pickle

Soggy Fries the watermelon toad,
went on a journey he did,
a journey down the road.

Soggy Fries came upon an ostrich,
the bird was named Pickle,
and Pickle had an itch.

How may I assist Pickle,
thought Soggy Fries,
how ’bout a tickle.

So Pickle was tickled,
and Soggy Fries cried,
cried and cried and cried.

The watermelon toad cried,
tears of joy from helping,
this gave him pride.

They were exchanging pleasantries,
and bidding their farewells,
a meeting of the centuries.

Pickle and Soggy Fries,
friends now for life,
friendships guise.

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Soup

“There’s a fly in my soup.”
“There’s a fly in my soup.”
“There’s a fly in my soup.”
“There’s a fly in my soup.”
“Hello sir, how is your soup?”
“There’s a god damn fly in my soup!”

Why the waiter gave a steak knife to the patron who ordered soup will remain an unsolved mystery.

Repetition of Facts

Recycled facts have lost their usefulness. You can recite the same thing over and over but it may lose it’s magic as the number of repetitions increases. Recycled facts have lost their usefulness. You can recite the same thing over and over but it may lose it’s magic as the number of repetitions increases. Recycled facts have lost their usefulness. You can recite the same thing over and over but it may lose it’s magic as the number of repetitions increases.

Also stated as (in C#):

string msg = @"Recycled facts have lost their usefulness. You can recite the same thing over and over but it may lose it's magic as the number of repetitions increases.";

for(var i = 0; i < 3; i++) {
    Console.Write(msg);
}

The Umbrella

An umbrella can only go so far when it’s carried away by the wind. If it happens to hit the side of a bus on a busy street, then so be it. Maybe the umbrella bounces gently off the bus and against a taxi. Maybe a pedestrian (as silly as they are) picks it up. Whatever the outcome, the fact still remains, it is raining and gray.

I think the umbrella doesn’t really have a place.
This umbrella has a mission however.

Mission?

Yes, mission!

The mission, how could you have forgotten already? The moment described above is now about to be shattered. For the umbrella, at least for today, has a role. It’s role…

Chaos!

Upon colliding with the bus, scaring the driver, the driver, in turn veering into oncoming traffic, the oncoming traffic hitting the bus, the bus lighting up, fire consuming it, the taxi that the umbrella chose as its next victim, after hitting the bus, crashing into the silly pedestrian (along with several others), the pedestrian collapsing, panic, fire….

Chaos.

Lasting only a few moments, the chaos subsides. Mission accomplished. Elated, the umbrella has fulfilled its duties. But there’s a lingering sadness. The umbrella was waiting for more.

Where was the death?
Where were the riots?
What about the buildings?
Why are they still standing?

That day, a single umbrella caused so much to happen. But was it enough? As the umbrella was engulfed in the flames from the result of its mission, a tear of melting plastic wandered down its rib as if it were expressing woe.

The umbrella is gone.

The Fate of Ignorance

They traipse along with melting crayons, flotsam at the foot of the beach.
“Oh, to be a wave carrying jellyfish to the edge, where the salt meets the air” said one to the other.
“Why’d you want to do that?”
A query rose from the suspicion of the ludicrous statement thrown into the air waves.
“I severely dislike jellyfish” was the response.
“Why, what did they ever do to you?”
Awestruck, this was his reply: “What do you mean? What did they do to me?”…

He had developed the distaste of Jellyfish at a young age. Twelve to be exact. He couldn’t even remember what exactly the crime had been that turned him against those delightful and sometimes poisonous tentacle bearing beasts. In fact, when confronted on his abhorrence towards them, his answer was usually in the form of some kind of stereotype.

“They’re smelly.”
“They take up too much of the ocean.”
“Those damn opportunistic predators, eating whatever they come across.”
“Pretentious tentacle bearing fucks.”
“Save some plankton for the whales… Bastards.”

Indeed, the list went on, mostly in the form of something similar to the above insults. His hatred had become a product of his ignorance multiplied by his youthful experience (diminished as it was). Did he really even hate jellyfish anymore?

“Do you listen to yourself?” another query from his friend.
“Yes, of course…” the irritated retort.
“Pretentious fucks, I hate them all”…
“But you haven’t even said what they’ve done to cause these feelings of malice.” a justified response from his friend.
“I don’t need to prove myself to you.”
“Are you siding with them?”
“How dare you! Are you insinuating that I am lying?”

Brandishing a dagger, he smote his friend. Spite had taken control of him. He went empty with rage. His friend was now dead; the life had been taken from him just because of the jellyfish.
“It’s your fault. You damn tentacle bearing demons.”
“I hate you!” there was no reasoning with this logic.

Because of the jellyfish, his friend was dead. They caused him to whirl into a fit of rage.
“You’ve done this to yourself.” a voice from nowhere, invading his eardrums.
“Stop, you don’t know that. You don’t know anything.”
“You killed your friend over your petty angers.” it was that voice again.
“Stop. Stop right now.” nobody was on the beach.
“I’ll get revenge.”

Throwing off his clothing, and running into the water, he broke the waves. Diving, swimming, dagger in mouth, he swam towards the smack. It was then that he felt the cold of a thousand tentacles binding him, constricting him.

He went blank again…
But this time it was eternal.