Funny Parody – Skwirlio

a successful foray into The Nature™

How to Build your own Fairy Garden in Many Easy(ish) Steps:

INGREDIENTS:

assemble plants. Get ones with pretty colors and interesting leaf shapes. Don’t bother reading the tag– whether or not they can withstand full sunlight or like lots of water is unimportant. You’ll figure that out yourself in a few months when they die. THERE IS NO ROOM IN YOUR PLANT KINGDOM FOR THE WEAK. ONLY THE STRONG WILL SURVIVE
meander around the huge garden warehouse. Make sure to keep your elbows out as far as possible to keep everyone out of your space.
spend 77 dollars on all the plants. Cry a little inside at how expensive plants are.
Take the plants home!! You can vacuum the dirt out of your car later.

YOU WILL NEED:

gardening gloves! Venture out into the dark and scary garage to get them. Bonus Points™ if you find a matching pair.
a trowel, or a gardening spade. (These are fancy words for a small shovel.)
fertilizer! Crap, you forgot it in the scary garage. Trek back out to get it.
dirt. This is relatively easy to come by, but if you’re picky you can pick up Dirt™ at your local Gardening Center©®™.

TIME TO BEGIN.

figure out where you want all the plants to go. Consider height and color while arranging your plants.
dig a small hole with the trowel. Watch as the dirt falls back into place. Give up and use your hands. The dirt still falls. Remember the that in the end everything is pointless and life has no meaning, so really it doesn’t have to be perfect.
struggle to take the plant out of it’s little plastic pallet– try not to crush the roots!
brush the dead spider away from your knees. Scoot forward so you can put the– IT WASN’T DEAD ABORT ABORT ABORT
sprinkle some fertilizer in the little pit. Swirl it around a little in the dirt, because you remember your grandma saying something about plants not liking fertilizer touching it’s roots directly.
hear a buzzing sound. Is that a bee? It had better not– IT’S A BEE IT’S A BEE IT’S A BEE IT’S A BEE IT’S A BEE IT’S A BEE IT’S A–
put the plant in the hole!!
cover the top of it with dirt. IMPORTANT: Do not cover the ENTIRE plant with dirt. Cover the roots only; (they’re the wiggly white things) up the the stem. (usually green, but can vary– usually where the roots end and the pretty part begins.)

CONGRATULATIONS!

You have Successfully™ Planted™ a Plant™©®.

Now repeat those steps as necessary.

The result is: your Very Own Built it Yourself Fairy Garden!!©®™

Now comes the fun part.

ARRANGING YOUR FAIRY FURNITURE:

remember fairies have delicate feet. They will need stepping stones.
seating! For little tea parties! Don’t expect to be invited. Fairies are rude.

You did it!!!!!!!!

May 13, 2017 by Skwirl

The Milk Man

“Run and find us some whipped cream,” said mom, checking the strawberry cartons for the perfect topping. “It’s in the back.” Vaguely, she gestured behind her, past the frozen fish sticks.

“Got it,” I called, already jogging down the aisle. I emerged in the meat section. Nope, I thought, and prowled left towards the cheese sticks. Dodging a few old ladies with shopping carts; I scanned the shelves from top to bottom. Orange juice, almond milk, eggs, yogurt, tapioca– mmm, I want some of that–

But no whipped cream. I pivoted on my heel, hands on my hips. A harried man in a suit brushed past me, dragging a little girl by the hand. “But I want the crackers, Daddy!” she wailed.

There! I thought I had found it. But on closer inspection, the cylindrical cans were coffee creamer, not whipped cream. Where could it be? I sighed and double-checked the aisle. Skim milk, full milk, 1% and more were settled heavily in their designated spots. I groaned.

Beside me, the 2% shivered in their gallon jugs. From behind, more milk came sliding into place from the refrigerated worker’s area. Someone is re-stocking the shelves, I mused. They probably know where the whipped cream is!

At eye level from the ‘moo’ving milk, I parted the cartons, peering to the back of the shelf. A surprised pair of deep brown eyes under a knitted beanie looked back at me.

“Hello,” I said. “Can you help me? I’m looking for the whipped cream.”

“Uh,” he said. “Yeah. Yes. It’s beside the milk, on your left– right;” he corrected, as I looked over. My hands left condensation fingerprints as I slid the cartons back in place. The kind brown eyes dodged behind some soymilk and reappeared over the eggs. “Right there,” he said. “Next shelf over.” The next shelf over was separated by a mirrored partition. My friend stayed over by the 2% as I hunted for whipped cream.

I called over to the general milk jug I thought he might be behind. “Where?”

“Up at the top,” he responded. I ducked my head to see under the wire shelving. There he was, stooped at eye level with me; still looking rather surprised.

“This direction?” I pointed. I could only see his face from the nose up, but I think he was smiling.

“Yes,” he said. “Right over there.” I stood from my crouch and looked harder. There!

“Got it!” I cheered. “Thank you!” I snatched the biggest container off the shelf– the more whipped cream, the better. “Thanks!” I called again.

“No problem!” said the man behind the milk. “Bye!”

“Bye!”

I jogged back to my mom at the checkout stand, holding the whipped cream aloft in triumph.

“I found it,” I said. “The milk man helped me.”

April 18, 2017 by Skwirl

Work Puns

Between the click-click-clak of my keyboard, I heard my phone ring. EXT. 121, RECEPTIONIST, blinked the screen. Yanking it off the receiver, I pinned it between my chin and shoulder.

“Hey! What can I do for you,” I said to the receptionist.

“Hello! I’m having trouble with this entry,” she told me. “Will you come up and help?”

“Sure,” I said. “Just gimme a sec and I’ll be right up.”

After having been promoted from receptionist to order and data entry, it was my job to help our new receptionist out when she had any questions. Stapling the last of my papers, I stowed it in the letter box labeled OUT and hopped out of my chair.

I rounded the corner to find Kirstin with her chin in her hand, balefully staring at the screen.

“So what’s the trouble?” I asked.

“Well, usually I get leads of new customers hoping for samples.”

“Right.”

“And normally– normally they have their address along with their phone number so we can send them samples and things.”

“Of course.”

“But this time,” she gestured to the screen, “All it gave me was this URL to some website. And this phone number is fake. 555-555-5555? Totally fake.”

“Totally fake,” I agreed. “Well, let me take a look.” I scrolled through the information, my brow furrowing.

“Ahah!” I pointed in triumph to the screen. “This is only linkbait. See, it’s only a commercial for Viagra.”

“Viagra!” Kirstin said. “No wonder I was so confused. They made that difficult.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Viagra makes everything harder.”

December 25, 2016December 25, 2016 by Skwirl

A Brisk Bisque

The leaves are changing from potato-skin brown to a pea-pod green.

The CrockPot has been turned up, hotter and hotter. Condensation collects on the lid and rains down from the clouds. Cover it up with towels, keep the warmth in. Inversion does nicely to keep up the heat. The sky has been unenthusiastically simmering all winter, now the clouds are roiling in the frothing blue. Some snow sometimes salts the grounds in a mercurial show of defiance.

Instead of a chili wind, we have lukewarm stew. Snow is melting into slushy soup, and newly turned dirt, the color of fudge brownies, is not nearly as delicious as it’s rich color suggests. Worms romp about in the batter, while rain sprinkles the world. Little frosting mounds are bursting in brilliant green buds. Industrial buildings keep burning on just like candles. Our chapped noses and watery eyes are snuffed out by the breezes, a collection of scents mixed together like a brisk bisque.

The apricot tree gives a stunning impression of popcorn as little buds burst from their shells. I’m excited to see the butterflies spread over so many flowers, from the toaster as I spread my margarine. Brave blades of green slice through the soil like so many knives on a quest for sunlight. I put my own spoon in the ground to aerate the soil. Soon, this trowel will dig up food I can eat at the table, with smaller spoons than this spade.

I like rattling the seeds around in their packets. This will be carrots. These will be tomatoes. And my favorite, the heart beets. My own heart pulses in time with nature. Time to pull out my gardening gloves. Mix the dirt (if only there were a KitchenAid for that), add the seeds. Fold in fertilizer and water with the best spatula you own, your hands. Bake with sunlight.

Soon, soon, the tell-tale signs of green with reveal themselves to the sunshine. And the brand-new leaves will ruffle themselves in the brisk bisque of spring.

March 14, 2014March 14, 2014 by Skwirl