Dust

Dusting is possibly the dumbest activity imaginable. Twenty seconds after you've dusted, the dust just settles right back down again. Shaking a dust mop out the window is just as stupid. Half of it blows right back in and the rest waits until you open the window again to rush back in.
Dust was here long before mankind and will be here long after humans are extinct. It is an integral part of our natural habitat and we should respect that. Dust can be our friend if we let it.
Of course, if dust accumulates on certain body parts, that is a serious issue and should be addressed.

Tortoise

A giant tortoise thought to be extinct was found on a remote island. Scientists took it to some sort of animal preserve. Imagine this beast trying to fit in. Could it float? Would it sink a rock? Is it horny?
What would be its come on lines to a normal sized turtle? Come here often? The sun glinting off your shell is lovely. Who does your nails? Not blinking is so sexy. You smell like the sea. Ever done it with a frog? How about a threesome?
Maybe this giant just wants to nap.
Somewhere, a walrus with lust in its eyes, one who feels age is just a number, will make its move.

Mimes

Amalgamated Mimes Inc. held a aconference. No one spoke. Nothing was accomplished.
Largebowls of olives dotted the table. Soon, the mimes were swallowing olives and spitting pits at each other as a form of communication.
Observers assumed the pits were a symbol.
Two hours later, the entire room was covered in pits.
Ten minutes after they left, a writers group entered for their meeting. Most were angry and disgusted at the mess. Some wanted to beat the mines with bamboo sticks. Cooler heads prevailed. Joe saw apotential blockbuster. Silence of the Pits. In the movie, Joe Pesci would play head pit.

Juggler

Lou's juggling career was going down the tubes. His bookings had fallen off since the day he was juggling kittens at a kid's birthday party and somehow missed connections. The kitten eventually regained consciousness, but not before the kids were traumatized.
Now he sat in a coffee shop and stared at his egg in a mug. It hit him. He would juggle food. Not the usual apples and oranges, but dangerous food and plants. Cactus, artichokes, pineapples, food and plants that might leave him cut and bloodied.
He would wear a white suit that accentuated blood stains and perform in middle schools. Kids, food, blood. That's the answer. Lou bent and kissed his egg in a mug as his waitress passed. It's not what you think, he said. I thought that was sexy, she answered and smiled. Lou saw an opening and began juggling the salt and pepper shakers. The excitement in her eyes was proof. He would get lucky tonight.

You First

Sophie and Steve, age twelve, faced each other. You first, Steve said. She sighed, reached down and removed a sneaker. Steve did the same. She removed a ribbon from her hair. That doesn't count, he said. I say it does, she replied.
He frowned and removed his belt. Sophie removed one sock. So did Steve. She took off a bracelet, making Steve angry. At this rate we'll never get naked, he complained. Lower your voice, she whispered. We're supposed to be doing homework.
Steve grunted and removed both his t-shirt and undershirt. I haven't seen your other foot, she said. It's the same as the first one, he hissed. Don't hiss at me, she hissed.
Take something off, he ordered. Wait, she said, what is that on your chest? A wart, he answered. Disgusting, she whined. Like you're perfect, Sophie? That is an ingrown toenail. What else are you hiding?
Whose idea was this? she asked. Both of us decided. Well, Steve, I changed my mind. You can't do that. A girl can change her mind.
Steve paced, thinking. Can I just have a peek? Sophie considered this. Only if I get a peek at yours.
So they each peeked at the others. They screeched, DISGUSTING!
Everything all right up there, Sophie's mom called.

Complexity

 I am sick of strangers trying to find out more about me. Stop the solicitations. Where I get my spiffy wardrobe is my business. Probing questions will get you nowhere. I value privacy. Being mysterious is next to godliness.
I have layers and layers of complexity. I go deep. Even if you got me drunk you will get nothing out of me. If you really knew me you might regret it. Mind your own business. More knowledge means more responsibility. Right now, your only responsibility to me is to make sure I get my medication and have a good supply of adult diapers on hand.
That is all you need to know.

Spots

People told me a spot on my kitchen cabinet meant new cabinets. Nonsense, I thought. I grabbed my $1.99 all purpose cleaner and a couple of sprays later the spot was history.
I'm good dealing with spots. Walls, ceilings, furniture, floor, I'm all over anything spotty. Stains on clothing are a separate issue. My nemesis. Bleach helps minimally. I scrub and scrub to no avail. If somene points to my stain, I tell them I put it there purposely. A fashion statement.
At the Botanical Gardens I use an extension tube on my spray can to eliminate spots from turtle shells. Not to mention spots on flowers that annoy me.
When I see a bald man I have to determine whether the spots are freckles or dirt. Most times I attack with the spray. Usually I'm right. I've only been arrested five times for miscalculating. This is how I met my friend Carl. We sprayed each other's skulls, wiped them down, then went for coffee.