Monty Python’s Frankenstein.

The following narrative came to me in a dream, including the title. Strangely enough, the narrative makes no mention of the famed movie monster, but instead goes directly to a battlefield where an epic war is about to take place. I spiced it up with additional details to (hopefully) add that unmistakable Pythonesque humor.

So what happened next? Well, I’ll tell you.

The two armies set out under cover of darkness of the night, determined to catch the other side by surprise.

But there was one little detail that neither side had planned on. As they progressed in their campaigns, a thick fog settled throughout the land, a fog so thick that neither side could see where they were going. Still, they carried on, determined to ensure victory would be theirs.

Then it happened. There came coconut sounds as the heads of opposing soldiers collided as the two armies unwittingly ran into each other. Then came the sounds of armor crashing to the ground as the soldiers collapsed in their newly aquired states of unconsciousness.

However, the remaining soldiers in both armies decided to pursue victory by ambushing the other side and the two armies ran at full speed. Unfortunately, they ran off in opposite directions with victory forever eluding their grasp.

The leaders were furious and embarrassed, although some historians claim they were more embarrassed than furious, while other scholars insist they were more furious than embarrassed, but a third group of equally intelligent people claim to have a theory that supports that the leaders were equally embarrassed and furious. Anyway you look at it, none of the leaders were happy.

However, the two leaders went to great lengths to ensure this battle would never get recorded in the history books and insisted that no one write about it. One scribe recorded the details of the battle in the meeting notes anyway and was promptly guillotined on the spot.

Incoherent confrontation.

It was an otherwise quiet morning at Albeitsuns when a masked gunman hoisting a machine gun stormed into the store and screamed, “EVERYBODY DOWN OR EVERYBODY DIE!”

Mr. Yoger, the store manager was standing nearby supervising the front checkouts when he suddenly recognized the gunman’s voice.

“Hector?” Mr. Yoger asked calmly.

“‘Sup Mr. Yoger,” Hector pointed his gun at Mr. Yoger’s face.

“So there isn’t any other way to settle this?” Mr. Yoger asked calmly. He was not in the least alarmed or concerned about this potentially deadly situation. His two tours in Vietnam certainly taught him well.

“What do you think?” Hector snapped. “You store managers with your 150 million dollar salaries taking away our pay so you can live it up while the rest of us go down!”

“150 million dollar salary for being a store manager?” Mr. Yoger chuckled. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Where else?” Hector replied. “Through the grapevine.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t poison ivy?”

“Look man,” Hector snapped as he shook his gun, “you had no call to fire me last week.”

“You forget why I fired you,” Mr. Yoger explained, “I caught you and the other stock clerks gambling in the stairwell.”

“We was helping each other out, man!” Hector shouted. “None of us can afford to pay the bills no more! I lost my car and I’m fallin’ behind on my rent! I’m broke, man!”

“Yet you were somehow able to afford a machine gun,” Mr. Yoger observed.

“You really gettin’ on my nerves, man!” Hector yelled as he pointed the gun at Mr. Yoger’s nose.

“Um, Hector, can I show you something? It’s at the service desk.” Mr. Yoger motioned towards the service desk in the background. “Give me a minute and I’ll get it for you.”

“45 seconds!” Hector cried.

“Fine, make it 30 if you’re that impatient.”

Mr. Yoger nonchalantly strolled to the service desk and had the clerk retrieve something from under the counter before he returned with what appeared to be a thick stack of envelopes.

“Do you know what these are, Hector?” Mr. Yoger asked. “These are your paychecks which you never picked up. They’ve been at the service desk all this time. But did you ever bother to pick them up? No, you found it easier to go without your pay so you could resort to gambling in the stairwell!”

Hector was trembling with rage and made one last futile effort to calm down.

“AAAAAARRGGGGHHHHH!” Hector screamed while raising his gun and pulling the trigger.


An eerie silence followed. Both Hector and Mr. Yoger stared at each other in what felt like an eternity.

“You got that gun from the toy aisle, didn’t you.” observed Mr. Yoger.

“Awww, spill the ketchup and play dead already! I’m outta here!” Hector screamed before running out of the store, where the police were waiting to take him into custody. Everyone was left standing still in an awkward silence, not sure how to make of the bizarre scene just concluded.

“Well, that was interesting,” Mr. Yoger sighed before eyeing the checkouts. Customers and cashiers alike were standing there with their mouths open. “All right, let’s look alive! Back to work!”

And the checkouts slowly churned back to life under Mr. Yoger’s watchful eye.

Breaking your social media habit with Brizzly.

At one point, Brizzly was a dual Facebook and Twitter client. You could access your news feed from either service with a simple click without leaving the Brizzly site. It was a fast and easy way to keep up with your friends and the world.

Although the dual client feature has long since disappeared, Brizzly’s mission has changed in an effort to ease the gripping effects of social media addiction. On the main page is a text box inviting you to speak what’s on your mind. You can add an image if you like. However, when you click “Send”, the post goes nowhere but still leaves you with that feeling of having had your say.

Kudos to Brizzly for their services to mankind and their efforts to make the world a better place.

After the storm.

Finally, it was over.

After a week of seeking shelter in my bathroom and enduring what felt like an eternity of feeling the house shake, rattle and roll due to unprecedented strong winds of a very rare combination tornado, typhoon and hurricane all rolled up in one devastating storm packing winds in excess of 500 miles per hour. I was amazed my house made it through in one piece. Is there anything duct tape can’t do?

I cautiously emerged from the bathroom and surveyed the interior of my house. So far, so good. Time to look around outside. As I walked through my kitchen I noticed something strange.

The sun was shining through the kitchen window, leaving a glowing beam across the floor.

Funny, the sun never shone through my kitchen window before. Unless it now rises in the north and sets in the south.

This thought kept my mind occupied as I took the remaining steps to the front door, and as soon as I opened it for a look around my neighborhood, my mouth dropped to the floor at the sight I saw.

The street that ran past my house was gone. So were the trees that stood in my front yard. Some of the houses in my neighborhood were gone but others seemed strangely out of place, standing in an uneven formation that would have required an extremely crooked street that zigzagged through the neighborhood. Then came the strangest sight of all.

In the distance was a vast body of water instead of the additional houses I was used to seeing. Were they all swept away by the storm? Was the storm surge that bad? And why did I keep getting that feeling I wasn’t anywhere near my hometown? The questions just kept on coming.

Then I thought of my family, especially my parents who lived farther north along the coast. I felt a surge of urgency to check on them, so I quickly ran for my house and found my phone.

However, when I dialed my parents’ phone number, my call was answered by someone else.

“I’m sorry, your current phone plan does not allow calls outside your designated calling zone.” said the voice.

“Excuse me, my phone plan allows for calls to all of South Florida. What do you mean I’m outside my calling zone?” I snapped.

“Just what I said, sir,” the voice replied. “Either move back to your calling zone or upgrade your plan.”

“Exactly where am I, anyway?” I asked.

“You don’t know? You’re in Cedar Key.”


It took a long time to digest the fact that the storm had pushed my house 247 miles north.

How to get it back to its original spot, I have no idea.

Eth on trial.

Eth had to pinch himself. He was only eight years old and already on trial for espionage. Even worse, his father was the judge and showed no sympathy for his son’s predicament. Something wasn’t right here.

“Court is now in session,” the judge announced, banging his gavel. “The trial against Eth Passin will now commence. He stands accused of spying for the enemy. Will the accused please step forward to testify?”

Eth slowly rose from his seat and somberly walked to the witness stand amid hostile stares from around the courtroom. He didn’t pay much attention to them, for his mind was at work, busily assembling pieces of the puzzle with the final picture ever slowly bringing itself into focus.

After Eth took his seat in the witness stand, the prosecutor began grilling Eth with intimidating questions. “Why did you choose to spy for the enemy?” he shouted in anger.

“But I didn’t,” Eth muttered. “I wanted to go to Busse and visit my dad. After I crossed the border I came to a clearing where I saw the Bussian soldiers talking loudly of their secret plans to invade Sulkana. I wasn’t allowed to speak with the Sulkanian military so I had to take matters into my own hands.”

“Why aren’t you allowed to speak with the Sulkanian military?” the prosecutor asked.

“Because the last time I did, the Bussian troops snuck past the border while I was talking to the commanders. I think that was part of the Bussians’ plan, to have me distract the commanders this way.” Eth sighed with embarrassment. “But at least this time I was able to fight the enemy all by myself.”

“You fought the enemy by yourself? How?” the prosecutor asked in disbelief.

“I ate vanilla beans, which makes my body grow one hundred times bigger, so I was able to scare the troops away.”

After the laughter in the courtroom had faded, the prosecutor continued, “You stated earlier that you crossed into Busse to visit your dad. Why did your dad choose not to come home to Sulkana to be with you?”

“He said he couldn’t bring himself to come home after killing some enemy soldiers in self-defense. He even got a medal of bravery.” Eth testified. Turning to the judge, he said, “Hey Daddy, you never did show me your medal. Didn’t you…”

The last piece of the puzzle snapped in place to present Eth a startling revelation.

“You didn’t kill the Bussian soliders, did you. You killed the Sulkanians.” Eth whispered. “You went to fight for the opposite side. After the war you chose to live in Busse, away from me and Mom.”

“Excuse me,” snapped the judge, “I believe you’re the one on trial, not me.”

Eth ignored him. “You made every attempt to stay away from us. When Mom tried writing you, you wrote back threats and insults to try and scare her into leaving you alone. No wonder she’s so scared to get the mail.”

“Order in the court!” the judge yelled over Eth as he pounded the gavel repeatedly until it broke.

“You didn’t want anything to do with us and sought to rid yourself of us. That would mean…” Eth started before he gasped. “You arranged this, didn’t you. You purposely had those soldiers in the clearing to fool me into thinking that Busse would invade us. You knew I would be near the border to fight the troops so you could later frame me later for espionage!”

“ENOUGH!” the judge screamed as he pointed the broken gavel at Eth. “The court finds you guilty of espionage and sentences you to death by firing squad at dawn!”

“Good, then I’ll go to Heaven and see my real dad,” Eth retorted defiantly as he was handcuffed and led out of the courtroom.

News of Eth’s conviction and pending execution spread like wildfire across Sulkana as the military personnel prepared for a rescue mission.

“I can’t believe that monster,” Sulkanan High Commander Keane snarled as he chomped on his cigar. “That judge, sentencing his only son to death. Not gonna happen on my watch. Okay boys, let’s go bring him home.”

Bonzi World exposed.

Remember me?

I’m sure everyone remembers Bonzi Buddy, the adorable but sneaky purple gorilla that made his home on your screen. I used to have it installed on my Windows 98 computer years ago and despite his spying habits, I still put him to use as he told jokes, sang songs and revealed interesting facts. Long after Bonzi Buddy was removed from the Internet, he somehow lived on in my imagination.

Years ago, during the days of Windows XP, I managed to find the Bonzi Buddy character file online for use with Microsoft Agent and started having fun with it in an entirely different way. I learned how to create simple VB scripts to have him say anything I wanted him to say and make rude noises. I also had him play games, including a number guessing game. It was possible to have fun with him without worrying about him spying on me.

The more scripts I made for Bonzi Buddy, the more a completely different story began to emerge. I began to imagine Bonzi Software creating a product called Bonzi Club, one that printed coupons for use at your favorite fast food restaurants. (“If you use them all, you’ll gain 500 pounds!”, he would say) From time to time there would be Bonzi Challenges that gave you a chance to earn points for prizes. One challenge required you to walk into McDonald’s and sing this song:

I love McDonald’s!
My favorite place!
Hamburgers and shakes and fries,
Happy meals and a prize!
Helloooooo McDonald’s!

If you sang that song, you would have won 5,000 points and a special prize, but if you didn’t, you would have those points taken away even after the software turned on your microphone to hear your excuse. Having a balance at zero points would put your Bonzi Club membership in jeopardy, so it was necessary to use the coupons on a daily basis, even if it meant eating fast food every day. After all, zero points meant getting kicked out of Bonzi Club and losing access to its perks. Attempting to run the software with no points caused a scary skeleton to appear on your screen and remind you that your account is no longer active and that you needed to uninstall the software to avoid seeing the skeleton again. Furthermore you had to wait 6 months before you were given another chance with Bonzi Club.

Then I began to imagine Bonzi Software expanding its product line, soon releasing Bonzi Browser (“the new way to browse the web!”) and selling plugins such a password manager.

Imagining having to buy add-ons for Bonzi Browser gave me insights in how software companies can fool you into thinking you’re saving money by manipulating the price. I don’t know if this is a real practice or not but it’s possible. For example, Bonzi Software set the retail price of its password manager add-on at $29.95 but was offering a deal where you only had to pay $14.95. (“That’s a 50% savings!”) Hence the illusion of saving money.

Meanwhile Bonzi Software continued to expand. Eventually The Bonzi Channel and Bonzi Radio would be launched as the company ventured into broadcasting. I even imagined a smart speaker shaped like Bonzi Buddy’s head that responded to voice commands much like Amazon Alexa and the Google Assistant.

Finally, I imagined Bonzi World, a “family friendly kingdom of rides, food and great savings”. It was a giant man-made island with an amusement park, a shopping center, a hotel and meeting complex. However, Bonzi Software had a great deal of difficulty trying to find a place to build this island as no one wanted one nearby due to concerns of it being a giant eyesore. Finally they had to settle for building it halfway around the world off the coast of Ochoro, an imaginary country near India that served as a gateway to the Indian Ocean.

So now Bonzi Software (now Bonzi Enterprises) was stuck with the awkward dilemma of having visitors to fly halfway around the world just to visit Bonzi World. There were too many hurdles to overcome, such as requiring visitors to have passports and advance reservations at Bonzi Tower. None of this fared well for Bonzi World and it began to suffer financially.

And that leads us to the mega typhoon that would destroy Bonzi World and founder Jim Bonzi would descend into madness and denial after having lost so much money as a result.

Now you know the rest of the story.

(With apologies to Joe and Jay Bonzi)

Bonzi World destroyed by massive typhoon.

An extremely rare mega typhoon plowed through Bonzi World and completely destroyed everything on the man-made island, including the amusement park, shopping center and the 79-story Bonzi Tower.

European Weather Service satellite images show that Typhoon Gustavo and Typhoon Henri were both on such identical paths that the two storms merged into a devastating mega typhoon that was more than twice the size of the island and packed winds in excess of 200 miles per hour. So devastating was the storm that it left behind absolutely nothing in its wake.

However, Bonzi World owner and CEO of Bonzi Enterprises Jim Bonzi was quick to dismiss the news of Bonzi World’s demise despite photographs of the storm’s damage along the nearby coastal region of Ochoro. He made the following announcement on Purpel, his social media network:

Beautiful day here at Bonzi World yet the FAKE WEATHER MEDIA wants you to think my island was destroyed by a typhoon? Sad!

Response to Bonzi’s announcement was swift and damning. A sampling of some of the replies:

Dude, your island is GONE. (that’s GONE, as in NOTHING THERE, in case you haven’t figured it out yet.)

Fake weather media? Does that mean there’s no blizzard advisory for South Florida?

Pay no attention to him. He’s been hallucinating after having been smacked in the face from a flying palm tree.

Romping through the Bermuda Triangle again, are we?

Is there harp music playing where you’re at as well?

Attempts were made to reach Jim Bonzi but he remains notoriously difficult to reach for comment. His staff issued a statement indicating their support for Bonzi’s claims although they hinted those claims might be fruitless.

Humiliation at the reunion.

So far, so good.

I made it to 15 minutes at the 25th high school reunion without anyone laughing at me. Perhaps everyone decided to put away that infamous incident that forever humiliated me back in the day when we were all students.

“Michael Bateman? Is that you?” a voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned around and saw Bob Rossa, a dear friend and fellow classmate who was in quite a few of my classes. He may have appeared older and grayer but he still had that unmistakable smile. Wait a minute, are those dentures?

“Bob! How have you been?” I exclaimed out as we embraced. “So how’s life treating you?”

“Life’s been good. I’ve landed a steady job managing the marina at Hasta Harbor, got myself a wife and got three sons I’m proud of. So what about you? Have you…”

Bob’s voice trailed off as if he was struck by a sudden revelation.

Here it comes…

“Wait a minute, we were in Spanish class together, weren’t we?” Bob smiled as a certain memory came back.

It’s coming…

“Oh my gosh, it’s you! You’re the one who likes fast carrots!*


Bob started laughing uncontrollably and turned to the crowd of fellow reunion attendees.


Slowly but surely the auditorium began to fill with laughter as everyone recognized me from that fateful day in Spanish class when I inadvertently became the laughingstock of the entire school. Everyone surrounded me as I became the center of attention with nonstop laughter from all around. Apparently no one was willing to just let it go, much to my humiliation.

Spanish class, 1985.

Mr. Rodríguez was chuckling to himself as he returned the graded essays everyone had to write in Spanish. As he returned mine, he announced to the class, “It seems we’ve learned something new about our friend Michael here. I never knew he likes fast carrots.”

As the class erupted in laughter, I frantically thumbed through my essay to search for the offending passage, and there it was, on page three.

Me gustan los carrots rápidos.

I like fast carrots.

I meant to say I liked fast cars but it was way too late to change that now.

Way too late.

Kevin’s dilemma.

Kevin slowly opened his eyes and found himself lying on the floor in a brightly lit but empty room. His senses were struggling to assess the surroundings after what felt like a drug-induced bout of unconsciousness. Or was it?

“Have a nice nap?” a deep voice from nowhere rang out.

Slowly Kevin regained control of his consciousness and became aware of his location. Then his mood changed from confusion to that of annoyance as he realized where he was.

The mysterious office suite underground beneath the hospital where Kevin worked.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” emanated the voice from a speaker on the wall.

Kevin was confused. “What do you mean?”

“You have a crew working throughout your hospital.”

“Oh yeah,” Kevin smiled. “We’re upgrading our network.”

“You are?” the voice sounded shocked. “Why?”

“Well, we’ve been behind the times for a little too long, so it’s definitely time to upgrade the network to something faster and more reliable.”

“We had an agreement, remember?”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence as Kevin struggled to recall just what that agreement was.

“You agreed to never upgrade your network no matter how tempting the newer technology it may be. Does that ring a bell?”

“Oh, right,” Kevin nodded as he remembered that vaguely worded agreement. “But I hadn’t heard from you for a while, so I figured you didn’t need our network anymore.”

“We’ll always need your network!” The voice shouted. “Our work is neverending and our mission will continue indefinitely. Don’t you realize that this is a matter of national security? Of course we need your 100 megabit networking hardware with Cat3 network cables. Our proprietary protocol only works with your antiquated network and for you to upgrade to newer technologies completely defeats the purpose of our mission. You must prevent the upgrade from taking place, or else.”

“Or else what?” Kevin asked, his voice shaking.

“Or else our agreement will be terminated along with yourself.”

Suddenly there was a loud buzzing sound from the speaker that jolted Kevin awake. After quickly examining his surroundings, he realized he was in his office in the Information Systems department of the hospital where he worked. He had been sleeping at his desk and had a most peculiar dream.

Or was it a dream?

Kevin stood up and opened the door to his office. He could hear the excited chatter of the department’s employees as they clearly looked forward to having a faster, better network. One of the employees saw Kevin and smiled.

“Great news, Kevin!” Robert said. “We’re set to switch the first floor to the new network tonight and if all goes well, we can start dismantling the old network tomorrow. Does that sound good or what?”

Kevin didn’t hear a word of what Robert said. In his mind he was struggling to assess his situation and how to resolve it.

They’ll kill me if we go forward with the new network. How do I stop this?

Or was this all just a dream?

What should I do?

Donald Trump has totally lost it.

Yes, I am convinced that Donald Trump has totally lost it. In the two years since his defeat, he has spent nearly all his time at his Mar-a-Lago estate going room to room trying to find it. And he still hasn’t, even with Melania’s help. Her only contribution to the matter is her confusion as to exactly what it is that he lost.

During his time at the White House, Trump most likely didn’t have it with him then, although he swore up and down he did. Still, he spent his time going room to room in the White House trying to find where it could possibly be but with no luck. Vice President Mike Pence even asked what it was that Trump was looking for but Trump responded for him to shut up and keep looking.

The hypothesis that Trump lost it while working at Trump Tower appears to be gaining momentum. Rather than search all the rooms, floor by floor, he most likely found it easier to just admit that he lost it and then move on, even if it means moving on without it. Not even his children were of any help for they too were clueless as to what it was that he lost.

So has Donald Trump totally lost it? The answer is a resounding yes. He has traveled this far down the road of life without it despite his best efforts to find it. It is a surprise however, that from all the executive actions he signed while in office, none of them would establish a Department of Missing Its. But I guess he was a little too preoccupied.