Archive for funny stories

Below Ground

Posted in Continuum Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 30, 2009 by Mj Rains

moongraveyardThis little tale came from the legend that if a black cat walks across a grave during a full moon, the dead person will rise.  Hope you enjoy.  Pic by winterwillow89-photobucket

Below Ground

It has not been easy
you know….the wait.
We’d all been there too many times.
Waiting for the full moon…
waiting for the black cat…

Then it happened.
Barnabey, over there, plot 182
on that full moon in October
caught himself a black kitty,
that traipsed right across his goddamned

Barnabey hardly knew what to do.
Suddenly his arms worked
and his face muscles (well, what was left of them)
and he took a breath, he sneezed,
all that fifty year dust.
We all sent him messages, “GET UP!”

He rolled over, which wasn’t easy in a coffin,
but Barnabey was a skinny guy,
and he pushed up with his back
and his skinny ass
busting through the rotted wood, and
the worm-worked soil.

It was a quite fresh and pleasant.
Scared the shit out of the cat!

“Now what?” he said.
God, he was so stupid.
Then the cat ran, ran, over more graves.
A regular celebration.  Many re-births, many awakenings.
What a sight it was.  Not for the faint of heart.

Mine was missed, yet again,
yet I was the loudest.
All the others got to rise up…
some dead only a year or two,
like that screwball drunk  who killed
three people last year with his car…
he got up…he dug himself out.

Not me, dead for a century….waiting
for the precise conditions…

The moonlight still glowed.
“What do we do?” they were all saying, stupid idiots.
“What do we do?”

“Go get that fucking cat for me!” I kept screaming.

Then I waited…



Weekend Stories

Posted in When it RAINs with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 8, 2009 by Mj Rains



Of course we all got together Sunday, in celebration of Labor Day, a much more muted party, compared to the 4th, but it was nice.  Uncles had family stories as usual, the funny but true, and had us laughing until the bottles were empty…here’s one I had to write down and share, one I’d never heard before two days ago…

My grandfather, who we called Pop, was a coal miner in the 30s and 40s, making about $16 a day.  After work with regularity, he’d head over to the local bar, (what my mom pegged a “beer garden”) to have his usual ‘shot and a beer’ (“To keep the dust down,” he used to say).  Upon arriving on one such occassion he saw his friend Al at the bar, and when the barmaid came over to take his order he said, “Give Al one too.”  Now Pop was Slovak, an original from Czechoslovakia, and he had a thick accent which I loved.  When he’d said “Al” the bar maid thought he said “All” and she set up the entire bar with drinks.   Then she went over to my Pop. 

 “Andrew,” she said. “That will be thirteen dollars.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Pop said, quite shocked.  “What the hell is Al drinking?”

Photo:  From the Pa. Miners Association history images.

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