Ping Stories

I wasn't raging my attire was making me cranky. The Glad lady shows poor manners and tries to undo my dress or so I thought.What is she doing? Through the haze that lingers in the air, I see my beloved fall to the floor. This can't be the end!"Sergeant do something! Zip up, do your job, call for help and arrest her."I continue to sob and not rage. But miracles do happen. I see my G-man rise from the floor. Sticky and smel...

Glad lady, inspector, a blond southern belle, no one can stop me from exacting my revenge.Over intense fiery thoughts I hear a yell."Gill it's him"It's Recycling Man our arch nemesis.G-man and I built a completely green fashion house. Dumpster diving, scavenging for materials had led us to design our "green" creations. Recycling man and Compost Man hated us. They sued claiming encroachment on their business. They won, our...

Looking closer, I realize who shambling man is.My ex, G, Garbageman. I should have known. He never could resist anything in polyethylene.I stand up, adjust my cocktail umbrella "dress", ready to confront that no good ex-garbageman. I'm about to grab his arm when I see the Glad lady has returned dressed in an orange bag. That was always our color.Ready to tell him what I think, I'm inturrupted. An inspector starts listing...

Head throbbing I open my eyes."Why am I still in the bar?"I remember ordering a few non-virgin Hannahs. The table in front of me is covered in cocktail umbrellas. I look down aware that I am wearing an "outfit" made entirely of cocktail umbrellas. It gets worse. I notice the "exercise" pole has several umbrellas stuck to it."Oh god, what happened?"I risk a furtive look around the bar. Among the usual patrons of Rumps' the...

Cleaning the window frames with a bicarbonate and vinegar mix as I do every Thursday, keeps my neighbourhood safe. Saves the faffing of EVERYONE ringing the council if the dustbin men don’t arrive. George was a heavy smoker back in the day and I proudly adhere to keeping appearances up- old habits die hard. “George! Some fella is at the door!” ”Are you listening? Stop copping a deaf un! Quick! Grab some kitchen roll or so...

The side of my head flat against the ground.Bitter cold air makes it hard to breathe.Red gravel and purple skies. A sickening stench of rotten flesh, my senses have come to know.The Past tormenting, the Future terrifying - From the corner of my eye, it makes its way. Helplessly hopeless - I resort to prolonged self-denying. Never-mind living, when in death there's harmony.No tears, No fears, but a crier cries out '' Die R...