GREED V/S NEED

A HILARIOUS CONTEST

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Greed vs. Need: The Ultimate Showdown

Welcome, dear readers, to the main event! Tonight, we have a clash of titans, a battle for the ages: Greed vs. Need. In the red corner, weighing in at an insatiable 500 pounds, we have the uncontested heavyweight champion of overindulgence, the Baron of Bling, the Tsar of Take-It-All, GREED! And in the blue corner, weighing a modest but determined 150 pounds, the modest maestro of minimalism, the Sultan of Sufficiency, the Duke of Don’t-Need-Much, NEED!

Let’s get ready to ruuuuuuuuuuuumble!

Round 1: The Grocery Store

Our first arena is the local grocery store, where Need starts off strong, grabbing just the essentials: a loaf of bread, a carton of milk, some fresh veggies. But what’s this? Greed charges in with a battle cry of “BOGO!” and starts tossing jumbo packs of chips, soda, and candy bars into the cart like it’s a competitive sport.

Need tries to reason, “Do we really need a 10-pound bag of gummy bears?” But Greed, with a smirk, responds, “It’s called being prepared! What if we get snowed in during summer? You’ll thank me then.”

Round 2: The Mall

Next, we head to the mall. Need makes a beeline for the clearance rack, carefully selecting a couple of practical outfits. Greed, however, has other plans. He’s sprinting through the store, arms outstretched, swiping clothes off hangers with the precision of a shopping ninja.

“Why do we need five pairs of identical sneakers?” Need inquires, clearly exasperated. “Fashion, darling! We must keep the paparazzi guessing,” Greed retorts, despite the fact that the closest thing to paparazzi they’ve encountered is Mrs. Jenkins from next door and her cat, Mr. Whiskers.

Round 3: The Tech Store

Now, to the tech store. Need is eyeing a reasonably priced smartphone with decent battery life. Greed, on the other hand, is already three steps ahead, drooling over the latest flagship model that can practically fly you to the moon.

“But this one does everything we need!” Need pleads. “Sure, if you’re stuck in the Stone Age,” Greed scoffs. “Look at this one! It has a foldable screen, 8K video recording, and it can turn into a mini drone!”

The Intermission: The Credit Card Statement

Before the final round, let’s take a breather and check the credit card statement. Need looks pale, clutching the statement like it’s a horror novel. Greed, meanwhile, lounges back, sipping a frappuccino, muttering, “You can’t put a price on happiness. Or can you? Because it seems we did. Quite a hefty one, actually.”

Round 4: The Post-Purchase Rationalization

In this final round, our contenders face the toughest challenge yet: justifying their purchases. Need stands firm, pointing to the practical, budget-friendly items and their obvious benefits. Greed, ever the smooth talker, spins a web of elaborate justifications.

“These designer sunglasses are an investment,” Greed insists. “The sun is our constant enemy, and we must defend ourselves in style.”

Need counters with, “And the inflatable hot tub?”

“Emergency relaxation purposes! What if we have a really stressful day?”

The Winner?

So, who wins this epic battle? The truth is, it’s a draw. Need and Greed, like yin and yang, balance each other out. Sometimes, you have to give in to Greed to satisfy a craving or indulge in a little luxury. Other times, Need keeps you grounded, reminding you that it’s okay to stick with the basics and save for a rainy day (or a ridiculously sunny one, hence the designer sunglasses).

In the end, whether you’re team Greed or team Need, remember to keep a sense of humor. After all, life is a balancing act, and sometimes you just need a little bit of everything—within reason, of course. And maybe, just maybe, a 10-pound bag of gummy bears. You know, for emergencies.

Until next time, happy balancing, folks!

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#greed#need#overindulgence#budget#financial constraint#fashionstatement#balance.

LAUGHTER TUESDAYS (163)

HAUNTED HILARITY IN GOA: A FUNNY SHORT STORY BY ME.

In a quaint villa nestled amidst the palm trees of Goa, the spirits of Mandar and Smriti, a couple denied their earthly union by familial disapproval, roamed the halls in spectral glee.

One moonlit night, as the villa prepared for a grand arranged marriage ceremony, Mandar and Smriti decided to unleash their mischievous antics.

As the bride-to-be nervously adjusted her veil, a ghostly hand scrawled on the mirror behind her:

“Roses are red, violets are blue,
Your marriage is doomed, just like ours, too!”

The bride gasped, dropping her bouquet as she spun around, searching for the unseen prankster. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

Mandar’s spectral laughter echoed through the room. “Oh dear, you can’t see us, but we can certainly see you!”

Meanwhile, in the groom’s quarters, chaos ensued as the groom’s shoes mysteriously vanished, only to be found dangling from the ceiling fan.

“What in the world?!” exclaimed the groom, scratching his head in bewilderment. “I swear, this place is haunted!”

Smriti’s ghostly voice floated through the air. “Haunted? Oh, darling, you have no idea!”

Downstairs, the families gathered in the courtyard, oblivious to the supernatural hijinks unfolding around them. As the priest began the ceremony, Mandar and Smriti appeared, floating above the altar, much to the horror of the guests.

“Oh look, dear, they’re finally tying the knot,” Mandar remarked with a chuckle. “Too bad it won’t last!”

The priest stuttered, dropping his prayer book in fright. “G-g-ghosts! This is sacrilege!”

Smriti waved her ethereal hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t mind us, Father. We’re just here to add a bit of spice to the proceedings!”

As the ceremony descended into chaos, with chairs floating in mid-air and candles flickering wildly, Mandar and Smriti reveled in their spectral sabotage, their laughter ringing through the villa long into the night.

And so, in the heart of Goa, the ghostly antics of Mandar and Smriti continued, leaving a trail of hilarity and chaos in their wake, much to the dismay of any couple foolish enough to attempt an arranged marriage in their haunted abode.

As the night wore on, Mandar and Smriti’s mischievous spirit knew no bounds.

In the midst of the chaos, the wedding cake suddenly levitated off the table, frosting flying in all directions as it sailed through the air.

“Oh dear, it seems the cake has taken flight!” Mandar exclaimed, barely containing his laughter.

The bride’s mother fainted, her silk saree billowing around her like a parachute as she hit the ground with a thud.

Smriti winked at Mandar before sending a gust of wind to tousle the groom’s perfectly styled hair, leaving him looking like a disheveled mess.

“Why, thank you, my dear,” the groom muttered, trying in vain to pat down his unruly locks.

But the pièce de résistance came during the vows, as the bride and groom stood trembling before the priest.

Just as they were about to exchange rings, the rings vanished into thin air, only to reappear moments later on the antlers of a mounted deer head adorning the wall.

The guests erupted into laughter, while the bride burst into tears, her mascara running down her cheeks in rivulets.

“Oh, come now, darling, it’s just a bit of fun!” Smriti called out, her voice echoing through the room.

But it was too late. The groom’s family declared the wedding cursed, and the bride’s family agreed, both sides hastily retreating from the villa, vowing never to return.

And so, thanks to the antics of Mandar and Smriti, yet another arranged marriage bit the dust in spectacular fashion, leaving the ghosts to continue their eternal quest for amusement in the afterlife.

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#GhostlyHaunts #SpectralSabotage #EternalMischief #WeddingWoes #GoaGiggles #PoltergeistPranks #HauntedHilarity #SupernaturalShenanigans #SpectralSarcasm #MarriageMayhem

LAUGHTER TUESDAYS (161)

BAD BREATH BREAKTHROUGH: A COMEDY SHORT STORY BY ME

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Once upon a time in the quaint little town of Sahibganj, there lived a girl named Preeti, whose breath could make onions cry and skunks faint. It was a sunny morning when the unfortunate incident occurred.Preeti, with her usual enthusiasm for breakfast, sauntered into the kitchen.

However, as soon as she opened her mouth to greet her mother, a foul stench enveloped the room, reminiscent of a sulfuric eruption.Her mother, taken aback by the odorous assault, recoiled and exclaimed, “Preeti, how many rotten eggs did you have for breakfast?”

Preeti, mortified by the accusation, protested, “Mom, you know very well that I have already brushed my teeth. How can I eat something rotten? It’s just that I have been suffering from bad breath problems.”

Her mother, trying to maintain her composure despite the nasal onslaught, replied, “Well, your breath could wake the dead, dear. We need to do something about it before the neighbors file a complaint.”

Determined to tackle the pungent predicament, Preeti embarked on a quest to find a solution. She tried everything from gargling garlic water to munching on mint leaves, but to no avail. Her breath remained as potent as ever.

Desperate for a remedy, Preeti sought the advice of the town’s eccentric herbalist, Madame Zephyr. With a cackle and a puff of smoke, Madame Zephyr concocted a potion that promised to banish bad breath forever.

Excited and hopeful, Preeti eagerly gulped down the potion, only to find herself breathing fire like a dragon moments later. It seemed Madame Zephyr’s potion had unexpected side effects.

Amidst the chaos of extinguishing the kitchen curtains, Preeti’s mother sighed, “Well, I suppose fiery breath is an improvement over sulfuric stench.”And so, Preeti’s quest for fresh breath continued, albeit with a fiery twist.

As for Madame Zephyr, she added a disclaimer to her potions: “May cause unexpected combustion. Use at your own risk.”

Undeterred by her newfound pyrotechnic abilities, Preeti persisted in her pursuit of fresh breath. She tried chewing charcoal, sipping vinegar, and even reciting tongue twisters backwards, all with varying degrees of success and calamity.

One particularly memorable mishap involved Preeti accidentally setting off the fire alarm at the local bakery while attempting to blow out her birthday candles. As firefighters rushed to the scene, Preeti sheepishly explained, “It’s not what it looks like! I just wanted to make a wish without setting off a smoke alarm.”

Despite the setbacks, Preeti’s determination remained unscathed. She refused to let her fiery breath define her. With renewed vigor, she scoured the town for remedies, leaving a trail of singed eyebrows and startled bystanders in her wake.

Finally, after months of trial and error, Preeti stumbled upon an ancient remedy hidden in the depths of the town library: a magical mint grown by the legendary Breathmintus Maximus.

With a glimmer of hope in her eyes, Preeti embarked on her final quest to find the elusive mint. Guided by cryptic clues and the occasional hiccup of flame, she traversed treacherous terrain and dodged fiery obstacles until she reached the hidden grove where the mint grew.

As she plucked the shimmering leaves from the enchanted plant, a soothing coolness washed over her, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Preeti breathed easy.

Returning home triumphant, Preeti presented the mint to her mother, who took one sniff and exclaimed, “Sweet relief! It’s like a breath of fresh air!”And so, with the help of a little magic and a lot of perseverance, Preeti bid farewell to her fiery breath and embraced a future filled with minty-fresh moments and laughter. As for Madame Zephyr, she added a new disclaimer to her potions: “For external use only. Keep away from open flames.”

Vidya finished narrating this short story to the prospective suitor who almost fell asleep and his family looked at her as if she had grown horns. They decided to call off the alliance after Vidya said, “This is a true story based on my life. I have achieved Doctorate in BBGS (Bad Breath Gas Syndrome). So, I will help you get rid of unwanted pests who enter your house without prior intimation and drive them away.” Her parents looked at her in horror as Vidya made these jibes at the prospective groom and his family who turned at their doorsteps without calling them.

Finally, Vidya got her way and made her parents promise that they will not search for an alliance until she completed her Post Graduation in Mass Communication.

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#BreathlessAdventures #MintyMiracles #PyrotechnicProblems #FieryFiascos #SulfuricSurprises #QuestForFreshBreath #MintToBe #FireFighterFollies #FlameAndFortune #LibraryLegends

LAUGHTER TUESDAYS (160)

REJECTION SPREE:A HILARIOUS ARTICLE BY ME.

Your writing is good, but it’s not quite the piece we’re looking for—yes, that’s a gentle way to let someone down. Honestly, I’m becoming quite familiar with it myself. Despite numerous applications for content writing positions, the responses are all too familiar: “Unfortunately, we are unable to proceed with your application.”

Still, I persist, half-jokingly aiming for a Guinness World Record for the most rejection notices. It seems I have quite a long way to go. If only our bodies were as efficient at rejecting unwanted fat and cholesterol as companies are at sending rejection emails! Now, that’s the kind of rejection we could all appreciate.

” Where did I go wrong?” I ask myself, “How often do people face rejection, whether it’s manuscript submission, job opportunity, love or marriage? How do they deal with it?”

I have seen numerous movies in which the protagonist ( hero or heroine) quickly drown themselves in gallons of whiskey, beer, or rum and sing sad songs. Resorting to alcohol might work in movies but not in real life. Otherwise, more than 75% of the world population would find themselves in a bar.

Rejection, the unsolicited spice in life’s grand meal, has its unique way of seasoning our daily experiences. It’s the universal sauce that, unfortunately, doesn’t always taste good on the first bite. But think about it—without rejection, how would we ever refine our Netflix rejection playlist, or perfect our humble sigh? It adds a comical depth to our resilience, teaching us to bounce back with the grace of a sitcom character who walks into a glass door and stands up, checking if anyone saw. In a funny twist of fate, each “no” we receive is just another collector’s item in our emotional trophy case, proving that we had the courage to try, fail, and then rant about it hilariously on social media.

Sometimes, I wish I could create a special voice message that said,”The character you are calling doesn’t exist,” or, “The person you are trying to reach is out of your contact zone. Please call again after a couple of years.” It happens every time I get a call from those who seek new episodes from a boring show called, “My life.”

It’s time for me to sing ” Dil ke Armaan aansuon me beh gaye. Hum Gadhe the aur gadhe hi reh gaye. ( The original line is Hum wafa karke bhi Tanha reh gaye). The translation is : My heart’s desires drowned away in my tears. I was a jackass and still I am. ( My funny version). The original lines mean I am all alone inspite of being loyal to my beloved.

Fortunately, I am blessed with the hide of a buffalo. So, rejection doesn’t bother me anymore. However, it’s time for me to do some introspection and review my work. Instead of focusing on the fear of failure, I will put on my thinking cap and start working on those areas which need improvement.

Dear friends, I’d love to hear your strategies for managing rejection while keeping your self-esteem intact. How do you bounce back from a “no” without letting it weigh you down? Share your tips and tricks!

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#BounceBack #Resilience #SelfEsteemBoost #RejectionRecovery #StayPositive #OvercomeObstacles #LifeLessons #NoMeansNext #PersonalGrowth #ShareYourStory

MONDAY BLUES (89)

MONDAY TURNED INTO FUNDAY BLUES

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The Monday Blues: A Survival Guide for the Sincerely Sluggish

Ah, Monday. The day that sneakily resets the calendar just when you’ve perfected the art of lounging. Your bed transforms into a cloud of bliss, and the snooze button woos you like a siren’s song. Your body launches a full-blown protest, brandishing picket signs that read: “Strike against Monday! More sleep, less adulting!”

But duty calls, and we must peel ourselves away from our cozy cocoon to face the grim reality known as Monday.

Symptoms of the Monday Blues:

• Waking up to the haunting glow of your alarm clock, realizing you’ve been calculating the existential risks of leaving your bed.
• Experiencing a brief amnesia where you hope it’s Sunday, only to have your dreams shattered by the harsh reality of Monday—a mental facepalm moment.
• Requiring a caffeine infusion at a medically concerning rate, yet still feeling like a zombie cosplaying as a functional human.
• Mastering the art of procrastination so well, you could procrastinate procrastination itself.

The Monday Morning Math Problem:

Encountering math first thing in the morning is like starting a horror movie with the scariest scene. The numbers taunt you as you try to juggle sleep hours, coffee cups, and the ticking clock, ending up with equations that would baffle Einstein.

“If sleep is inversely proportional to coffee, and productivity is a myth, then… will anyone notice if I nap under my desk?”

The Monday Grumble:

The grumble is your Monday mantra. Whether it’s lamenting the weather, cursing the eternal traffic, or mourning the tragic end of your favorite coffee creamer—it feels like Monday is nature’s way of collecting bad karma points.

“I’m not complaining, I’m just verbally processing the universal truth that Mondays were designed by sadists.”

Monday Motivation (LOL):

Those peppy motivational quotes that seem to be written by people who spring out of bed with sunshine for blood? Yeah, they hit differently on a Monday. They feel more like a personal attack.

“‘You can do anything you set your mind to!’ Great, I set my mind to hibernating until next weekend.”

Survival Tips for the Monday Blues:

1. Coffee Overload: Consider setting up an IV drip of the strongest coffee available. Alternatively, a coffee cologne, to keep the essence of alertness.
2. Procrastination Haven: Craft a procrastinator’s paradise where work seems optional. Populate your space with gadgets, snacks, and maybe a hammock for creativity naps.
3. Master the Grumble: Turn grumbling into an art form or a competitive sport. Why not aspire to be the Shakespeare of complaining?
4. Embrace the Mood Swings: Use your mood swings as a defensive mechanism. Nothing says ‘stay away’ quite like a well-timed sigh or an artful glare.

Armed with this guide, you can not only survive but maybe even chuckle through your Monday. So go on, give that snooze button one more heartfelt press, and remember: Friday is only four days away. You might just make it with enough coffee and sarcasm.

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#MondayMood #SurvivingMondays #CoffeeAddictsUnite #ProcrastinationPro #GrumbleGang #SnoozeButtonLover #CaffeineIV #MoodSwings #NotTodayMonday #IsItFridayYet #SleepySquad #AntiMondayMotivation #OfficeHumor #WeekendWithdrawals #MondaysAreEvil

LAUGHTER TUESDAYS (159)

THE PHONE CALL SAGA : A COMEDY SHORT STORY BY ME.

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Neha Singhal was in the midst of a job hunt frenzy, her laptop practically an extension of her being. She diligently crafted resumes, tailored cover letters, and braved the daunting task of online applications, all in the pursuit of that elusive first job.But fate seemed to be playing a cruel joke on her, as each application seemed to disappear into the digital void without a whisper of acknowledgment. “It’s like shouting into a black hole,” Neha muttered, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, her well-meaning but inadvertently meddlesome mother, Sunaina, was on a mission of her own. With a phone glued to her ear, she turned Neha’s job search into a communal event, updating relatives and friends on Neha’s progress, or lack thereof, with the enthusiasm of a town crier.Neha, overhearing her mother’s conversations, couldn’t help but cringe. “Maa, please don’t tell everyone about my job search,” she pleaded for the umpteenth time. “It’s embarrassing enough as it is.”

But Sunaina, in her infinite maternal wisdom, couldn’t resist the urge to share her daughter’s endeavors with the world. “Oh, Neha, don’t be silly. Everyone is rooting for you,” she reassured, unaware of Neha’s mounting exasperation.One day, as Neha sat stewing in her frustration, the phone rang once again. This time, it was her Aunt Jaya from Lucknow, demanding a daily update on Neha’s progress. Neha saw red.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to teach her dear aunt a lesson.”Since you’re so concerned about my life, Aunt Jaya,” Neha began, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “why don’t you offer me a loan of 15,00,000 ₹ to launch my own business? Then I’ll be more than happy to provide you with a daily report on every aspect of my existence.”There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by a sputtering protest from Aunt Jaya.

“Well, I, uh, I didn’t mean—”But Neha wasn’t finished. “Oh, and while you’re at it, why not ask me about the color of my underwear or how many times I went to the toilet today? After all, you seem to be quite invested in the minutiae of my life.”

With that, Neha hung up, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. Perhaps, just perhaps, her family would finally understand the importance of privacy, even in the most well-intentioned of circumstances.As for Sunaina, she couldn’t give up her habit of broadcasting the daily incidents at her home.

Neha’s job search continued to be a hot topic of discussion at the dinner table. And though the road ahead was still uncertain, at least Neha prayed that she could navigate it without the whole world watching her every move.Neha Singhal’s job hunt saga continued to unfold like a tragicomedy, with each passing day bringing new twists and turns.

As she furiously clicked away on her keyboard, her phone rang incessantly, like a persistent mosquito buzzing in her ear.”Hello?” Neha answered, bracing herself for whatever well-meaning but potentially disastrous conversation awaited her.

“Neha beta, it’s your Uncle Ramesh from Mumbai,” came the booming voice from the other end. “Your mother told me you’re looking for a job. Why don’t you come work at my friend’s textile factory? It’s hard work, but the pay is decent.”

Neha stifled a groan, her mind racing to conjure up a polite yet firm response. “Uncle Ramesh, I appreciate the offer, but I’m really focused on finding something in my field of study. Plus, I’m not exactly cut out for a career in textiles. Last time I tried to sew, I accidentally stapled my finger to the fabric.”

There was a hesitant chuckle from Uncle Ramesh before he bid her farewell, promising to keep his ears open for any suitable opportunities.Just as Neha was about to breathe a sigh of relief, her phone rang again. This time, it was her cousin Pooja from Delhi, full of unsolicited career advice.

“Neha di, I heard you’re still struggling to find a job,” Pooja began, her voice tinged with faux concern. “Have you considered becoming a TikTok influencer? I hear they make big bucks these days!”

Neha fought back the urge to slam her head against the nearest wall. “Thanks for the suggestion, Pooja, but I don’t think my dance moves are quite up to par. Last time I tried to do the renegade, I accidentally knocked over the lampshade and set the curtains on fire.”

Pooja’s laughter echoed through the phone before she promised to brainstorm more “creative” job ideas for Neha’s consideration.By now, Neha was starting to lose her patience. But just as she was contemplating throwing her phone out the window, it rang once again.

This time, it was her Great-Aunt Meera from Kolkata, with her trademark mix of nosiness and good intentions.”Neha beti, your mother told me you’re having trouble finding a job,” Great-Aunt Meera said in her gentle, grandmotherly tone. “Why don’t you come live with me in Kolkata? I’ll introduce you to all the eligible bachelors in the neighborhood. Who needs a job when you can find a good husband, hmm?”

Neha’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Thanks for the offer, Great-Aunt Meera, but I think I’ll stick to the job hunt for now. Besides, I’m not exactly ready to trade in my business suits for a bridal saree just yet.”

With each hilarious phone call, Neha’s resolve only grew stronger. No matter how many well-meaning relatives tried to derail her plans, she was determined to carve out her own path in the world, one awkward job interview at a time.

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#JobHuntStruggles #FamilyMeddling #CareerAdviceGoneWrong #FunnyPhoneCalls #DesperateJobSeeker #LifeOfAFresher #JobSearchComedy #MaternalMeddling #NosyRelatives #HilariousJobHunt

GREAT HUMAN DEBATE

A FUNNY SHORT STORY BY ME.

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Title: The Great Human Debate

In the lush, green village of Animalkind, where the birds tweeted in Morse and squirrels organized nut stockpiles with military precision, there stood a prestigious institution known as Beastly Academy. This wasn’t any ordinary school; its students were the brightest four-legged, winged, and finned creatures from around the forest. And today was a particularly special day at Beastly Academy—the day of the Great Human Debate.

The auditorium buzzed with excitement as students filed in, their notebooks made from fallen leaves ready at paw, claw, and fin. Professor Owl, with his spectacles precariously perched on his beak, hooted for silence.

“Welcome, esteemed students! Today, we delve deep into the peculiar world of humans—the only species known to pay to live on a planet they were born on. Let’s review their classifications: Greedy, Traitor, Anger, Good Samaritan, Jealous, Lustful. Teams, please take your positions!”

On the stage, six groups prepared to argue which characteristic defined humanity best. The debate would guide next semester’s syllabus on human behavior.

First up was Gary the Greedy Goat, munching on a piece of homework he’d found tasty. “Humans are like me, but worse! They build enormous houses and buy more cars than they can drive. Have you seen how they treat Black Friday sales? It’s the epitome of ‘grab everything you can’—greed at its finest!”

From the audience, Penny the Parrot squawked, “But Gary, don’t they also give to charity?”

Gary paused, a leaflet hanging out of his mouth, “That, dear Penny, is just a tax write-off!”

Next, Sally the Snake slithered up to the podium, her scales shimmering under the stage lights. “Sssseriously now, humans are undoubtedly best classified as Traitors. They make promises to protect their planet, then chop down forests and spill oil into oceans. They say ‘forever’ and then—poof!—change their minds like shedding skin.”

The crowd hissed in agreement, a few tails thumping on the floor for emphasis.

Larry the Lion roared next, mane fluffed in what could only be described as pure indignation. “Anger is the essence of humanity! They yell in small metal boxes on wheels, fight over invisible lines on maps, and even throw things at rectangular boxes that show other humans playing games!”

A young fawn in the front row whispered, “My dad said a human once kicked him just because he ate a flower from his garden!”

“Oh, they’re simply dreadful!” clucked Clara the Chicken, ruffling her feathers.

The debate continued with Greta the Good-natured Gorilla advocating for the Good Samaritans among humans. “They build homes for the homeless, adopt orphaned puppies, and there are those who plant trees!” she pounded her chest passionately.

Max the Magpie interrupted, “Ah, but the Jealous ones—they’re the real gems. They envy each other’s grass because it’s greener, covet shiny gadgets, and even mimic each other’s nests—uh, I mean, homes!”

Finally, Fiona the Fox twirled her tail, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “And let’s not forget the Lustful. Always swiping right to find the next best thing, making perfumes to smell irresistible, and buying enormous shiny rocks to prove their love—quite the spectacle!”

The bell rang, echoing through the hall, signaling the end of the debate. Professor Owl, having scribbled notes furiously, announced, “Thank you, my insightful creatures! It appears humans are as complex as our forest network. Perhaps we need a new category: All of the Above!”

Laughter and howls of approval echoed as the animals shuffled out, their thoughts buzzing more about their next meal than the human conundrum. The consensus was clear, though: humans were an endless topic of study, and Beastly Academy was just scratching the surface.

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#shortstories#children#wildlife#humans#traits#animals#schools

POETIC THURSDAYS (127)

NATURAL STUPIDITY : A RELIEF FROM MONOTONY.

In the great theater of life, where fools abound,
We trip over ourselves, tumbling to the ground.
Like when we try to use the TV remote for the phone,
Or wear our shirts inside out, our idiocy shown.

We chase after fad diets with fervor and zeal,
Believing in detox teas for a magic meal.
But alas, it's just a flush of cash down the drain,
As we munch on kale chips, feeling the pain.

And who can forget the saga of the lost sock?
Vanishing into the abyss, a perplexing shock.
We blame the dryer, the cat, or even fate,
But deep down we know, it's our own forgetful state.

In the land of emails, we're masters of goof,
Replying all when we meant to keep it aloof.
Or hitting "send" before the message is right,
Leaving us cringing in the harsh email light.

But oh, how dull life would be without these gaffes,
The bloopers and blunders, the comedic drafts.
So let's raise a toast to our natural absurdity,
For in laughter and folly, we find our true fraternity!

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#humor#poem#bloopers#naturalstupidity.

SKYROCKETING GULLIBILITY

A HUMOROUS ARTICLE (APRIL FOOL) SPECIAL.

Breaking News: Gullibility Reaches All-Time High: World Leaders Celebrate!

In a stunning turn of events, it seems that gullibility has skyrocketed to unprecedented levels, leaving even the most seasoned skeptics scratching their heads in disbelief. While scientists scramble to understand this baffling phenomenon, politicians, advertisers, and scammers are popping the champagne and celebrating their newfound jackpot – a world ripe for exploitation!

Media outlets, in a stroke of irony, have reported on the rise of gullibility with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, conveniently forgetting their role in perpetuating misinformation and sensationalism. Meanwhile, politicians have taken a break from their usual antics of empty promises and grandstanding to marvel at how easily the masses can be swayed by a well-timed soundbite or flashy campaign ad.

Not to be outdone, advertisers have doubled down on their efforts to convince consumers that they absolutely, positively, cannot live without the latest and greatest product – even if it’s just a glorified paperweight with a hefty price tag.

And let’s not forget our dear friends, the scammers, who have found themselves in the enviable position of having more targets than they know what to do with. From phishing emails promising untold riches to phone calls from “Microsoft technical support” that sound suspiciously like they’re coming from a call center in a far-off land, the opportunities for a quick buck have never been more abundant.

But fear not, dear readers, for all hope is not lost! In these trying times, there is one weapon we can wield against the onslaught of deception and manipulation: critical thinking. So before you hit that “share” button on that too-good-to-be-true article or reach for your credit card to purchase that “miracle” product, take a moment to pause, reflect, and ask yourself: “Am I being played like a fiddle?”

Remember, the truth may be stranger than fiction, but it’s also a heck of a lot more reliable. Stay skeptical, stay vigilant, and above all, stay snarky, my friends. After all, laughter is the best medicine – especially when you’re laughing at those who thought they could pull the wool over our eyes. Cheers to a world where the joke’s on them!

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POETIC THURSDAYS (124)

NOSE V/S TONGUE : ORGANS OF INTERFERENCE .

I wonder whether the human nose is longer or the tongue,
For in the art of meddling, both seem rather well-hung.
They poke and they prod, and they wag without rest,
In the Olympics of nosiness, they're always the best.

"Did you gain some weight? Oh, you look rather pale,
Is that your real hair? Wow, was that dress on sale?
You’re still not married? And no kids on the way?
You should eat more greens!" they merrily say.

To these champions of intrusion, I often muse,
Your talent for prying, you should wisely use.
Why not join the circus, or become a private eye?
In the field of unwelcome advice, you’d surely fly high.

But since your nose in my matters, you so love to park,
And your tongue wags in circles from dawn until dark,
Here’s a fitting reply, a suggestion quite neat,
Why not practice the art of being discreet?

For every question asked, that’s not your concern,
Donate a dollar, perhaps then you'll learn.
By the end of the month, you'll be quite poor,
But my secrets and sanity will remain secure.

So, dear meddlers, with your curious gaze,
Remember this lesson, for all your days:
The world’s not your soap opera, to comment and spy,
Sometimes, the best reply is just to pass by.

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#MeddlingMasters #NoseyByNature #TongueTwisters #PrivacyPlease #UnsolicitedAdviceAnonymous #MindYourOwn #SecretsStaySecret #CircusOfCuriosity #PrivateEyeWannabe #DiscretionIsKey #SoapOperaLife #PassByDontSpy #SanitySavers #DollarForYourThoughts