Humpday Haiku #17

A salve for bad days

Things could still be worse.
You could have an entire
nation despise you.

Girlfriend

September 14, 2020 | New York, NY

It started when she read The Secret.

“Tell the universe what you want, and you’ll get it,” the book whispered, “It’s as easy as ordering from a catalogue.”

She’d never thought of life that way. Up until now, most of life had felt like throwing homemade slime at the wall to see what stuck. She’d gotten used to this process, color-coded its many variations in her mind, made peace with it.

But the book said things could be different. And so, the question came: What did she want?

She thought about it all day and that night over a cup of tea and the next morning while brushing her teeth, and it came to her: she wanted to be married. Getting married, it seemed, was the quickest way to getting happy. It came with all the Things: something to talk about with her married friends other than their synced-up menstrual cycles, a chance to be in the spotlight, and of course, new outfits.

Plus, she already had a boyfriend. How hard could it be?

“See the things you want as already Yours,”said The Secret. So she poured a glass of wine and summed up the courage to “accidentally” share her Pinterest page of engagement rings with Boyfriend.

“See the things you want as already Yours,”said The Secret. She poured a glass of wine and summed up the courage to “accidentally” share her Pinterest page of engagement rings with Boyfriend. For good measure, she browsed those links on his computer so the cookies would follow him with targeted ads all around the Internet.

Suddenly, every aspect of life had purpose. Walls were no longer barriers, but a space to put up pictures of potential wedding destinations. Words held new meaning. “Want to order Chinese for dinner?” Boyfriend asked one night. “Yes,” she said, “I do.”

A few weeks later, she threw out her clothes and began wearing white dresses every day. “What happened to your other clothes?” Boyfriend asked. “This is all I look good in,” she said.

She was manifesting her reality.

A few weeks later, she threw out her clothes and began wearing white dresses every day. She was manifesting her reality.

Life went on that way until one evening, she caught Boyfriend staring at her.

“I don’t know what it is, but lately I’ve been feeling like we’re meant to spend our lives together,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. (The one featured three times on her “Dream Ringz” Pinterest board)

“I can’t believe this,” she said, “This is coming out of nowhere.”

Boyfriend got down on one knee.  

“What do you think?” he asked.

The word came up to her throat. Yes!

But she had just started reading The Art of War. “Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night,” the book whispered.

“Let me get back to you,” she told him.

She was wise that way.

Humpday Haiku #16

The most radical act

Look in the mirror
and say, “I can’t handle how
beautiful I am.”

Casting Call: Eternal Optimist

September 7, 2020 | New York, NY

Are you a glass half-empty or glass half-full kind of person? Or, are you just thrilled to have a glass? If you’re the latter, we’re looking for you.

Here at CNN, it’s come to our attention that many of our viewers see us as the harbinger of doom. We don’t feel great about this. But doomful times lead to doomful news, so we’re sprinkling some joy into our broadcasts.

That’s where you come in.

Were you voted “Most Likely to Make People Feel Like Their Best Selves” in your high school yearbook? Have you been told you radiate sunshine wherever you go? Do you have a cursive tattoo on your pinky that says, “Things will get better”? (Do you read that tattoo aloud to your friends?)

Were you voted “Most Likely to Make People Feel Like Their Best Selves” in your high school yearbook? Have you been told you radiate sunshine wherever you go? Do you have a cursive tattoo on your pinky that says, “Things will get better”?

Join us at CNN. As we cover a nation grappling with a virus it doesn’t fully believe in, an escalating fight for racial justice, and a political battle between two old men for America’s leaky gut, sit next to us. As correspondents like Anderson Cooper, Jake Tapper, and Chris Cuomo wrap up their segments, you’ll get to remind viewers that everything’s going to be okay. From now until Election Day, we’re offering you five minutes of daily fame on live TV – in hopes you’ll also help our ratings go up.

Share that Instagram video of a baby cuddling with a Golden Doodle. Tell us how life is about the simple things, like the smell of freshly baked muffins. Read your gratitude journal aloud. Quote Oprah. Even better, quote Oprah quoting Maya Angelou.

No, you don’t need prior journalism experience. We’re looking for someone who really, truly believes in world peace and, of course, has good posture. Bonus points if you have a voice that can lull viewers to sleep, away from today’s harsher realities.

Come be the new face of CNN!

People are going to love you, because they need you – almost as much as we do.

Disclaimer: These United Scrapes only posts casting notices it deems relevant to its readers.

Humpday Haiku #15

If you call me past 9pm these days

“Sorry, can’t talk. My
demons are coming over
to play some mind games.”

An Open Letter from the Nigerian Prince

August 3, 2020 | Somewhere in Nigeria

Fellow global citizens,

You may be wondering why you haven’t heard from me in a while. Rest assured, I have a story to tell you – one of hope and dreams and longing and ambition.

I’d like to begin by clearing the air. There seem to be other scammers mimicking my style when it comes to requesting large sums of money these days (looking at you, Syrian Banker), but I, The Nigerian Prince who started it all, have stepped back from the forays of the Internet.

Here’s what happened.

About 30 years ago, when email was becoming a ‘thing,’ I was a mere schoolboy on the precipice of graduation. My family sat around the dinner table one night and, after a hearty meal followed by rounds of political debate, my parents asked, “Prince, child, what will you do for a living?”

I told them I’d like to write emails. They laughed and said there was no money in that.

“My parents asked, ‘Prince, child, what will you do for a living?’ I told them I’d like to write emails. They laughed and said there was no money in that.”

So, I set out to prove them wrong. I set up countless email accounts and wove stories of my fortune being held hostage to war, corruption, and political unrest. I humbly, urgently cajoled you into sending me your bank account number so that you could help me move my money out of the country, with the promise of generous pay. And you did.

We had a relationship, you and I. I was a perpetual victim and you were looking for someone to save (and profit from). My English wasn’t the best, but I enjoyed the flourish of greetings like “Compliments of the season” and “Pardon the abruptness of this letter” and “Get back to me Urgently!” I became addicted to the pretenses of being a business executive, a barrister, a royal with a better backstory, and the quick acceptance of lies like “This transaction is 100% risk free.” I targeted your naiveté in hopes of erasing my own. And your millions of dollars became my millions.

It was extremely fun – until my scam was revealed.

I don’t need to say much about my fall from grace other than, well, I fell.

My peers urged me to lay low. I began journaling and took an English course, an excellent investment that spared me from relying on Google Translate. The more I read the news, the clearer it became that most of you found me funny (pitiful, even) – just like my parents did when I said I wanted to write emails.

Anyway, that’s in the past. I’m married now, with 3 children of my own. Thanks to you, they attended excellent private schools. I’m also wiser now, and it’s clear that my actions all those years ago were foolish.

But there’s a silver lining.

“Looking back at those thousands of emails, it turns out what I loved most was the writing. I, The Nigerian Prince, was born a storyteller.”

Looking back at those thousands of emails, it turns out what I loved most was the writing. I, The Nigerian Prince, was born a storyteller. That’s why I’m excited to tell you I’ve been accepted to a graduate writing program in Los Angeles! If I accept, my family and I will need to relocate to the United States and I will finally – finally – pursue my dream of becoming a novelist.

That’s where you come in. I hope you can contribute a few dollars towards my continued education; in return, I will give you a small percentage of the royalties from what will soon be (let’s face it) a bestselling memoir of my life.

After all, what is life if we are not pursuing our dreams?

If you’d like to support mine, please Venmo me @NigerianPrince4Ever.

Yours,

The Nigerian Prince

 

Humpday Haiku #14

The allure of zen in a 400-piece puzzle

Everything I need
is right in front of me. Wait,
I’m missing a piece.