A Steamy Satire: No Receipt, No Surrender

I don’t know if I’ve told you all this yet or not, but I’m kind of an idiot. Not an idiot as in stupid, but I don’t take much of anything seriously, and I can usually find something to laugh at in just about anything. You want proof? I laughed during my own mother’s funeral …in my defense, the CD player broke before it could play my mom’s favorite song, and her black cloud was legendary. 

I was recently watching episodes of “Big Mouth” on Netflix and there was an episode when two guys were going to write a screenplay for an adult film based on their occupation. Idiot mode engaged. I decided to take my favorite art form, satire, and apply it to a work situation. Mama always taught me to laugh at tough situations and sometimes people are tough to deal with. For your reading enjoyment: a short story about a workplace encounter.

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Final Exam: 80’s & 90’s Cultures

Before wanting to be a writer, I wanted to be many things. At one point, I wanted to be a teacher – not because I was excited about educating children – mostly because I wanted to watch them suffer. I always wanted to be that wiseass teacher that had tests that were complete mindf***s.

As an observer of society at current, I have seen things that have made my hair grow, then curl, then fall out all over again. I saw a video of someone referring to the band N*Sync as “N S Y N C.” I’m not going to lie: I tried to pickle my brain to get rid of that realization.

To cleanse my brain of such atrocities, I have decided that if I ever did become a teacher, or professor, I’d teach 80’s and 90’s cultures. For this week’s blog, I decided to share my final exam with you all. Please post your test results in the comments and share with your friends to see if they’d pass Mr. Miller’s class.

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Ask an Author (with A.P. Miller) – Volume 6: the Wedding Bells Edition

[DISCLAIMER]: This piece is a satire, and the author is an idiot sometimes. Please don’t take any of this advice seriously — you would be better off trusting your retirement account to Bernie Madoff than listening to A.P.. Also, any similarities between any persons, or events, is purely coincidental. If you take issue with anything that’s said, maybe you should think twice about your shitty personality, and the way you treat other people. Maybe you have a guilty conscience. Asshole.

So, today should be my thirteenth wedding anniversary. I should be toasting to the thirteen years I put into keeping up my end of “till death do us part,” and I should be slipping my dog scraps without my doggymama seeing, and all would be well. Clearly, that’s not the way it’s actually happening. Instead of being bitter, I’ve decided to help other people who are going through similar issues, because I’m a giver

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Satire: Marrying a Miller Man

Without going into too much detail, I’ve been told the family elders aren’t happy that just anyone can marry into the family. They aren’t pointing fingers at me directly, but it’s either me, or my ninth cousin Gustav …and I don’t think he’s coming out of Aunt Hildah’s basement long enough to get married (so they are pointing fingers at me). The family wants the process to become betrothed to the family to be more selective. A representative from the family’s ancestral homeland has sent an edict that our branch of the family must observe the traditions of the old country.

So, for your education, in case you ever plan on marrying one of the Miller Men: the conditions and process of marriage (as dictated by the Miller Family Elders, headquartered in the Old Country).

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Dear Apartment Community.

June 12, 2020

[NAME OF COMMUNITY & MANAGEMENT COMPANY REDACTED TO SAVE THEM FROM THEIR OWN EMBARRASSMENT]

Re: My Apartment

Dear, Community Manager:

I don’t even know where to begin with you people, I lay awake at night wondering how you people get any sleep yourselves. I have NEVER dealt with a management company like you folks, and I’ve held my silence for WAY too long! My voice WILL be heard! You will no longer silence the masses!

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