100 WORD SKITTLE // Queue Jumper

It rolls aggressively into my foot. Typical armadillo.

“Hey, you! Move your ass! You’re not alone here!”

I snort derisively, but lift my foot away. Minor turds aren’t worth the bother. I turn to leave.

“Social distancing rules still apply, asshole!”

Okay, now you’re gonna get it. I never lift my foot in vain.

I do a quick assessment of my surroundings, factoring in wind resistance, gravity, and a buxom lady at the cashier’s desk. I aim my foot at the soft, pink ass of this socially responsible shitbag.

The distancing between us will soon be perfectly social and safe.


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PERFECTION IN ACTION // Aesthetic Feeling

It was the blackest black. The roundest round. Nothing in the known universe could match its immaculateness. He stepped back and admired his handiwork one more time. If only someone else had been here to witness this monumental moment…

Darnel closed the toilet lid.

He reached out to flush, but stopped halfway. No way could he do this. It’d be a culture crime. Like splashing acid onto the Mona Lisa’s face. Like scratching ‘fuck’ on the ancient stone foundation of an Egyptian pyramid.

Darnel opened the toilet lid.

What to do? Oh! Instagram it! The world could thank him later.


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100 WORD SKITTLE // McDhamma® Nooky

The tiny Buddhas are wailing in full force tonight. I can hear them in the jungle, calling for Ganesha their master. But Ganesha is busy. He’s making goo-goo eyes at a pretty, young dibbler in the McDonalds next door. He’s ordering two McBuddhas® and some ghee in milk. I think he’s hoping to score.

Meanwhile, I’m laying here with a pillow over my head, trying to sleep. The tiny Buddhas are fucking deafening. The pairing of incessant wailing with that rusty sound from my neighbors’ bedroom window has become a serious contender for ‘Best Worst Lullaby’ at this year’s Grammys.


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100 WORD SKITTLE // Dhamma Snoop

The bed was rocking hard. It wasn’t, however, for the usual reasons.

Sure, the springs were making that tell-tale rusty sound—the kind that typically accompanies sex—but the neighbours weren’t having sex.

Are you curious as to how I know about their private life? Do you fancy me a pervert who sneaks into people’s homes, poking a hungry eye through bedroom keyholes? Please! I’m not so unsophisticated. I have tiny Buddhas embedded everywhere, and that’s why I’m able to track my neighbours’ every movement.

Anyway, they weren’t having sex, and I’m sure my publisher will find this information useful.


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100 WORD SKITTLE // Dhamma Sandwich

There are three things I don’t feel like doing today.

Of course, the first thing is waking up. Whoever invented the alarm clock needs to be spit roasted in hell while listening to an eternal loop of alarm clock buzzers.

The second thing is making a tiny Buddha sandwich. Have you tried to catch a tiny Buddha? If he’s not making tiny copies of himself, he’s walking through walls or levitating up chimneys to make good his escape. Bastard.

The last one is calling my publisher. He’s like a tiny Budda with an alarm clock… but without the alarm clock.


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