The Building Inspector — Gargleblaster Microstories #201

 

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Photo Credit — Danny James

“I still say it looks like a skinny waif sitting between two fat people on a crowded bus.”

“How did you get the building inspector to approve it once again?

“You just keep giving him pints until he can’t see straight.”

 

 

 

 

Where Were You When The World Stopped Turning

Twelve hole at Whitehorse Country Club in Westchester New York. One hundred seventy-five yards, a par three. I used a five wood. One bounce and it went in. No pigs were flying so it must be the end of the world.

 

A New Home — yeah write #196 micro stories

The rapid pinging of nail guns assaults the ears

Angry words shouted in foreign tongues float across skeleton wooden frames

Trucks rumbling over crunching gravel

The gloppy glop machine spitting grey lava

Weed wackers whining

Mowers massacring green grasses

A new home

 

 

 

 

 

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