Tjchilders's Blog

Garden Snake. A Short Story.

TJChilders — Sun, 06 Nov 2011 02:51:58 +0000

Jeffery was a garden snake who lived behind the house on Maplecrest Hill. It was a glorious house and offered Jeffery all of the needs he could ever ask for. A nice open space with plenty of rocks and trees to hide, a plethora of wildlife that kept Jeffery nourished and full, and a garden so splendid that Jeffery would sometimes get lost in its beauty. But what Jeffery liked most about the house on Maplecrest Hill was the residents. More specifically Jeffery loved the child of the house. He was a small blond who couldn’t be over the age of 2. The boy loved seeing Jeffery and was always driven wild with excitement when he slithered near. Jeffery loved the boy, well, as much as any snake could love a human being that is. He loved how the boy would laugh and giggle as he smoothly slid over the little boys hands. He loved how the boy would leave grasshoppers he had caught with his stubby little fingers and watch as Jeffery greedily gobbled them up. But what Jeffery loved most was how the boy would pet him. He loved having the little boy run his fingers over his scales as he felt warm and loved. The boy would sit and pet him for minutes and even as a snake Jeffery knew it was not easy to keep a 2 year old still for more then a second. On this particular day Jeffery had been zig zagging in and out of the rose bush when he heard the familiar clang of the screen door open and shut. He knew that sound meant the boy would be running right for him. Jeffery flicked his tongue out in excitement as he slithered up to the boy. There he was in his white shirt and blue overalls which stained with grass as he slammed down onto his diapered bottom. Jeffery flicked his tongue a few more times as the boys hand reached down to pick up the snake. Jeffery was so excited, this was his favorite part of any day. The boy reached down and scooped up the slimy snake as he giggled and flung Jeffery into his mouth.

Kharma’s A Bitch. A Short Story.

TJChilders — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 23:07:40 +0000

Frank was a perv. There’s no other way to put it. He would stare inappropriately at girls that walked by his house, make dirty comments outside of the locker room at the gym, and smell woman’s hair on the subway. One day as Frank was driving he was memorized by a teenage girl running in a sports bra and shorts. He lost control of his car and died.
Frank was a firm believer in reincarnation. He awoke as a pair of frilly pink panties. He hung in the lingerie section at Victorias Secret. Frank was so excited he would’ve screamed if he could. A man picked Frank off of the rack and brought him to the register and purchased him.
“Valentines gift.” the man said embarrassingly to the cashier. Frank almost died from excitement. He waited to be unwrapped from his silk prison for what seemed like an eternity.
“For me?” He heard a deep grizzly voice question.
Light filled Franks vision as he was finally freed. The same man who had purchased Frank stood over him with a queer smile. Only this time the man was caked in eyeliner, lipstick, and blush.
“It’s so beautiful.” The man said to no one in particular.
He would’ve run away if he could, but he was panties.
Frank watched in horror as the man slid him up his naked thighs.

The Girl Who Whispered. A Short Story.

TJChilders — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 14:23:11 +0000

Sarah had always been the quiet girl. She was never into sports and seemed to be obsessed with deer. She was immediately outcast in her southern town. One Friday night Sarah decided to buy a car while the rest of the town gathered at the big high school rivalry game.
“Congratulations!” the dealer exclaimed enthusiastically. “What will you name it?”
“……” Sarah replied.
“I’m sorry?” The dealer questioned.
“……” Sarah whispered again.
“Whatever.” The dealer responded lethargically. “Here’s the keys.”
Sarah excitedly drove her new car off the lot and wanted to show it off. As she turned off of the highway to swing by the football game a deer sprang in front of her. Sarah quickly spun the wheel to avoid killing the only thing she loved. She lost control of the car and spun off of the road. The car slid down the embankment and slammed into a tree. Mangled and bleeding Sarah crawled to the edge of the road and pleaded for help. To her luck the football game had just dispersed and a couple walked hand in hand.
Sarah tried to call out for help, years of whispering had rendered her vocal cord unusable.
“Did you hear something?” the female asked her friend.
“Nah babe. Just the wind.”

Valentines Day. A Short Story.

TJChilders — Tue, 29 Mar 2011 22:09:02 +0000

Walter sat at the table with Susan, his wife of 12 years. He had requested this reservations for a restaurant his wife had talked endlessly about for months and couldn’t believe his luck in snagging one. Here he was, in the place where he thought his wife would be happiest, and all she could do was worry about their children alone with their sitter. She would smile half heartedly but Walter knew she wasn’t paying full attention. He scanned the room as his hand held on to his wives.

“Honey, don’t worry, they’re fine.”

“I know, its just…” she dropped her head as she checked her cell phone for the hundredth time, still no missed calls. “I don’t like leaving them alone.”

“They’re fine Hun. The sitter comes highly recommended and the kids have been left alone plenty of times before. I’m sure they just watched the jiggles and were put to sleep. Even if she gave them sugar they’d have crashed by now, we both know that.” He looked into her eyes as she smiled back.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Good, now let’s have a wonderful time.”

“Like them?” the wife gestured over to the table to their left.

The couple next to them were young, mid 20’s Walter assumed. They weren’t married but had that look of a couple who have been together for a while. The man stared longingly into the woman’s eyes as she giggled and told him to cut it out. They gave the impression of an intimate couple as they seemed to be comfortable with each other and caressed one another’s hands gently. The man was doing everything right, buying the most expensive wine, laughing at all of her jokes, and treating her to a lobster dinner. Walter could tell the man was setting up for something big. His bill was going to be ridiculous, Walter thought to himself.

“They look so in love.” Susan said as she stared longingly at the couple. “Remember when we were like that, you would do everything you could to try to impress me.”

The man chuckled. “Am I not doing everything to impress you now?”

“Silly,” Susan said, as she looked him in the eyes, “That’s the thing. You never needed to do anything to impress me.”

Walter blushed as he turned his head to hide it from his wife who would definitely call him out on that later.

The man rested his hand on the woman’s knee as she took a sip from her wine glass.

“Oh my God, Walter look.” Susan said as she shook his hands and slammed the glass on the table. “He’s going to make his move.” she swallowed the wins.

“What move?” Walter asked.

“Ugh, have you been paying attention?” Susan rolled her eyes as she pointed to the couple. “He’s going to propose.” The last part she whispered as she inched closer to him. Walter laughed to himself realizing the String quartet would drown out their conversation and she didn’t need to whisper.

As sure as day the man leaned on her leg as he smoothly slid onto one knee and rested his arm on the table as he looked up into the woman’s eyes.

She held her hand to her lips as she jumped back in her chair and a vocal gasp could be heard throughout the restaurant. She fanned herself with her hands as her eyes swelled up and tears were ready to burst and stream down her cheek.

The man looked up at her with a smile on her face as she continued her show of not being able to control herself. He slid one hand into his pocket. As he pulled out a small box and held it in his hands he calmly and strongly began to speak.

“For a while now I’ve wanted to say something that I’ve been too scared to admit. Too much time has passed and I need to say this.” The girl couldn’t take her eyes off of the man and the box in his hand. The tears had broken through and her mascara began to slowly run.

He gently lifted open the box as the expression on the woman’s face transformed from pure excitement to one of confusion.

“A Key?” she asked quizzically as her hands stopped fanning and rested on the table.

“Yes, it’s a key for you.” He had a smirk on his face, one that didn’t waiver. “I’ve waited a long time to give this to you.”

“Like a key to my heart?” She slowly began to realize that all the eyes in the room were centered on her.

“It’s a key to a storage box. That’s where all your shit is.”

The woman’s head tilted slightly as she tried to process the situation

“I know you’ve been fucking Mike. You can find all your stuff there.”

The woman’s face turned to horror as real tears began to flow down her cheeks. The man got up with a look of confidence and relief as he stood up put his arms in the air and let out a loud woot.

“You fucking slut.” He said as he spit on the ground. With a sense of accomplishment he strode out of the restaurant and sped away in his car, stranding his crying ex. The waiter walked over and handed her the bill.

“The fish comes highly recommended.” Walter said to his wife.

Geoff George. A Short Story.

TJChilders — Mon, 28 Mar 2011 23:12:57 +0000

In college my writing professor gave us an exercise where we took a famous opening line and crafted our own stories around it. The following is the result of that exercise.

My friend Geoff was talking. Geoff is a cardiologist, and sometimes that gives him the right. But Geoff is a fucking prick. Geoff wasn’t originally talking, my friend Sally Sutters was, but Geoff being Geoff decided that what he was going to say was more important and abruptly cut Sally off to ask us which “weekend car” he should buy with the money he had craftily made on the stock market. Nobody cared. Geoff would do this routinely and it pissed everyone off. Come to think of it Geoff wasn’t really a friend, or friendly for that matter. None of us had ever really invited him over to our lunch table, one day in college he just showed up and no one had the balls to tell him to leave us alone. Now we are stuck with Geoff’s annoyances daily.

A usual lunch with Geoff involves constant interruptions, cockiness, arrogance, and not a hint of shame. Since college Geoff has been the self proclaimed “Man of the Minute”. There was even a stretch of about a month or so where Geoff talked strictly in third person and constantly referred to himself as the aforementioned “Man of the Minute”. Geoff would go on to be the most fiscally successful of our group, although no one was jealous of his riches. Geoff was the type of person to make you glad you didn’t have that kind money if it turned you into pompous dick.

The major thing that irked us all about Geoff was whenever we would finish eating and ask for the check Geoff would be off to use to restroom. By the time the check arrived we would turn around and see Geoff sitting in his Porsche with his aviators on and a shit grin on his face. He would always look at us with his tongue stuck out and he’d give us the rock out sign as he’d blast his music and peel out without so much as looking for any oncoming cars. He always ordered the most expensive item on the menu.

The next day, before Geoff showed up, Bob Bakerson slammed his fist on the table and proclaimed that Geoff needed to be stopped. He gave us an ultimatum that either Geoff goes or he and Lisa, his girlfriend, were going to leave. Lisa was a little embarrassed at her boyfriend’s sudden out burst and her cheeks blushed. That lunch, as everyone was nibbling on fries and finishing their drinks, Bob confronted Geoff and the table froze. We cautiously watched the events unfold in front of us. It seemed as if the entire restaurant put their food down to witness the harsh verbal beating. Emotions ran raw as Bob’s face became as red as his embarrassed girlfriend.

After Bob Bakerson had belittled Geoff with all of the pent up frustration that had mounted in him like a ferocious tidal wave we were stunned. Geoff solemnly kept his head down and his shoulders slouched. He reached into his pocket with a shaky hand, Quietly pulled out $600, and placed it in the middle of the table. He turned on his heel and sauntered slowly out of the door. Everyone watched as he sat in his car and started up the engine. It didn’t seem to roar to life in its usual fashion. He checked his mirrors and turned towards us in the restaurant. There was no tongue out or music playing too loud for a man his age. He put his blinker on and slowly pulled out of the spot.

A few weeks later we were at the same table as usual, minus Geoff, and quietly ate our respective meals. The table had been exceptionally quiet since the departure of Geoff George but everyone just chalked it up to the awkwardness of the fight. It never dawned on us that Geoff was the center of our group. Even with all of his cockiness and arrogance he was the only reason we stayed together. Without his constant interruptions and lively attitude we just seemed solemn and miserable. Turns out we had nothing to talk about and within a couple of months we slowly drifted apart into our separate lives.

Sometimes I’ll stare out of the window and wonder if Geoff George is off with another group of friends aggravating them with his stories of grandeur and his cavalier attitude. I sit in the lunchroom with my salad and my books and I wonder if they truly appreciate what they have. The tremendous character, Geoff George.

Will Power.

TJChilders — Tue, 15 Mar 2011 12:37:51 +0000

The hardest part of this diet, hands down, is the will power. I’ve lived a life for so long of whatever I wanted I would get that it’s tough for me to say no to something that I’ve always allowed myself. Prime examples would be fast foods and snacks, I used to live and breath on fast food. On my days off I would go to McDonalds for lunch and Taco Bell for dinner. I would make trips to Checkers and Sonic on the justification that I rarely go to places like that but the reality was I was only lying to myself. I used to say if I eat this then I’ll just go to the gym and work it off. But one hour would melt into the next and I would procrastinate until the gym was closed. Ill just go in the morning I’d tell myself. But that never happened. I would wake up late and then feel as of the whole day was shot and just go to Wendy’s for lunch and start the whole cycle over. I’m not proud of it but I proud to admit that I had a problem and am taking necessary steps to fix it. Thats something I would’ve never been able to do before.

Finding the strength to say no to those indulgences is what makes dieting in general such a miserable experience. Driving past my usual haunts, walking past aisles of vending machines, having smells of all kinds wafting into your nose while you work and live is a harrowing existence. I was going to write how it is the first speed bump on a road to health but I cant say that. These urges and desires don’t just go away voila in the blink of an eye. They stay with you forever and creep up with a daunting force the first moment you feel as if you have won. Its the will power to beat those cravings back down into whatever dark decrepit pit they came from and thats where the true nirvana lies. The feeling of being able to walk past a place that has led to so many shameful moments with your head held high and your chest out is a pretty powerful force.

Here I am six weeks into my diet and I’ve successfully lost 30.5 lbs. Im not going to say I have this thing beat, far from it. I’ve found my self staring longingly at the Snickers bars taunting me from their glass houses and have debated for hours at a time if I should just stop at McDonald’s on the way home to have just one cheeseburger. I am still a weak weak man but I can sense myself getting stronger. I haven’t been able to get to the gym everyday like I wish, I still eat one too many carbs per week and my cheat days are have a little too much cheating but I can see that the future holds bright things for me but I understand that I need to work as hard as ever from here on out to make sure I don’t slip and get too cocky. The one positive thing I can say about this diet is that its changing my entire life for the better. Not only am I getting healthier and stronger and leaner but I can feel my self confidence rising and that can only lead to better things.

Spring Break. A Short Story.

TJChilders — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 08:00:04 +0000

The following is a little something I wrote for a website called Helium for a contest they were holding called “How not to tell your parents about spring break.” The last time I checked it was ranked 2nd out of 4th. Which isn’t bad for my first article. Im posting it because its one of the only things I’ve written which isn’t depressing or bloody. Enjoy.

*****

It’s that time of year again. The sands in your toes, the music still buzzes in your ears and the blissful pain of that hangover still greatly evident. We all know what youre going through even though your try to hide behind those new glasses you picked up from that side vendor, for three dollars! You make it through custom’s and sadly depart with all of your amigo’s until you see them again, in all their glory, in those tagged photos circulating the Facebook community. You wait in line with your hand on your temple as the bags slowly emerge from the carousel crashing down onto the railing before they whine off, circulating, waiting solemnly for their respective owners. The only thing that keeps you from going insane is to close your eyes and relive the memory’s fresh in your brain of that bar in Tijuana where you somehow lost your favorite pair of pants.

And that’s when you hear it. You actually sense it before you hear it. That feeling that you’re being watched and there is no escape. And then it happens. With a hug that squeezes your life and a squeal that makes your eardrums explode your mother greets you and kisses you on the forehead as if you just came back from the dead. After the usual million questions from your parental units you give your mom a kiss and shake your dads hand as he gives you that, we both know what you did and I understand glance. You just know this is going to lead to an awkward conversation when your mother isn’t around about back when he was a wild young man in the 70’s.

Here is where this situation can either play itself out or blow up in your face. On the car ride home your mother will be insistent you tell her everything that happened on your break as you try to sit back and rest off this headache. You look over at your brother who was forced to come for the ride just to see his face buried in a Nintendo DS.

Strategy 1 is tell her about all of the sightseeing you did. Let your family know that the country is beautiful and full of some of the most colorful, nicest people you could ever meet in your life. And make sure you tell her you didn’t drink the water as you remove your glasses and wink. Mothers love this.

If you take strategy 1 you’re in the clear. Just keep talking about how all your friends went hiking and diving and tasted the cuisine of the country and took in everything they could. Also tell her one night you might have had a beer or two, but do it with a somber look on your face like you know it’s wrong. Shell give you a short speech and then look at you with love in her eyes as she realized what a good kid you are for admitting the truth.

The second strategy, which I in no way endorse, is to spill the beans. Let them know every raw, horrible, morally questionable decision you made in your week of debauchery and sin. If you decide to use this strategy, grab your balls and dive right in, because there is no way this is going to end swimmingly. Take of your glasses and slam them on the floor of the van and let them see you in your bloodshot glory. Start out with something positive like; at least I’m not in jail… anymore. Before they have time to react continue with the barrage. After the jail bit reel off with another gem, let them know all those D.A.R.E. classes in 4^th grade were a little overkill and you did enough dirty, illegal drugs to kill a small llama, and guess what, you’re still kicking.

As the look of horror and shame spread across their respective faces don’t stop. Your dad will start to weave in and out of traffic to try and get to the shoulder as quickly as possible to stop your mother from getting a heart attack, but keep on rambling. Look your dad in the eyes and let him know that those aren’t rumors about the hookers being so cheap down there. Hell you actually saved money from what you thought you were going to spend. And the best part, you saved an extra $4.50 since they don’t make you wear a condom if you don’t want to. Oh yeah and they can stop making that joke about when will they ever get a grandson. Well as long as they don’t mind that it’s probably only half your race. Or was it that girl from Wisconsin you meet at that bar?

Years down the line when you’re working that construction job to pay the bills ever since your parents pulled you out of college and kicked you out of the house. You might look back and realize you should of taken strategy 1. You’re friends think you’re a God and will look up to you for the rest of the party. But you’ll never forget the look of sheer terror on your mothers face when you got home. It probably didn’t help that you told your mom you had herpes right after you kissed your grandma on the lips.

Losing Weight. A Short Story.

TJChilders — Tue, 08 Feb 2011 21:14:18 +0000

“This sucks.”

Those are the words uttered out of every dieter’s mouth at one point in their dieting lives. Whether it’s eating the same old chicken breast again with a salad on the side (no dressing, you don’t need the calories after all) or going that extra five minutes on the treadmill with sweat dripping down your face and all you want to do is sink your teeth into a nice juicy burger.

Believe me I know. I have been on some form of diet most of my adult life. At one point it worked and I lost around 60lbs. But than I became a guru of weight loss and thought I had it beat. Sure I can eat at McDonalds once in a while, Ill just need to step up my workout tonight. Or I’m too busy to workout tonight so ill just put in double time tomorrow. Well we all know where that leads. One night turns into weeks, and months. And one bad lunch turns into knowing the names of the lunch trucks kids. Pretty soon you’re wishing little Suzie luck on her spelling test as you order your BBQ chicken wrap to go, since, you know, the wrap is healthier than the bun.

Is there any hope? The short answer yes, diligence. That’s all it takes, stop cutting corners and trying to find the fastest, most efficient way of cheating and still eating what you want. It’s never going to work. It takes time and patience. And I know, there’s nothing more frustrating than getting all excited about starting a new diet and all the plans you have for when you’re super model skinny and lounging on the beach and then stepping on the scale after a good week and finding out you only lost 1 pound. “But I ate nothing but Cheerio’s for an entire week!”

Its ok, calm down, eat a carrot and relax. It’s going to take time but the reward is so great that once you start nearing your goal you’ll forget all about the path you took to get there. Hell, I’m getting excited about losing weight again because I remember how good it felt to stand in front of a full length mirror at my local mall and admire that I was fitting into a pair of jeans 8 sizes smaller than what I had ever worn in my entire life. And I haven’t even lost a pound yet. Granted I have gained every pound back and I’m wearing jeans that are bigger than ever, but that’s ok, I’m ready for the challenges ahead of me and the thrill of the reward is a far greater bliss than any double patty bacon deluxe with cheeseburger can give.

So I’ll drink nothing but water, count my calories, not eat in front of the TV, go to the gym when I’m feeling sluggish, and generally do everything against what my cravings command. And why? Simple, the reward outweighs the sacrifice. So next time you find yourself staring eye to eye with a big moist piece of chocolate cake, take a step back and think. Yes it’s lathered in thick, delicious, frosting and practically calling your name out, but is it worth it? Or would you rather have the thrill of fitting into a pair of jeans you were only able to admire on your way to the nearest Chik-fil-A in a pair of sweatpants.

The People I Wish I Had More Contact With. Part 1. Peter and Timmy

TJChilders — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 11:36:44 +0000

Im going to start a series where I write about a friend who I’ve lost contact with over the years and how I wish I could spend more time with them. The first post will be about my old roommates Peter and Timmy.

The two funniest people I know besides my brother. Period. These two guys were my roommates when I lived on campus which was a huge deal for me. It was the first time that I and ever lived outside of my house and it was scary. And I have to thank these brothers for making that transition as easy as possible. When I first met these guys I was nervous as everyone is when they first meettheir roomates but since the first second Timmy walked in the room I knew it was going to be a great year. It’s going to sound gay but the first day I met Timmy I don’t think we were apart. I helped him move in and we immediatly started talking. I told him about me and my intrests and he told me about him and his intrests and immediatly we clicked. He’s a Mets fan but hey, not everyone can be perfect. So after out introductions we walked around campus until we went to the caf and watched the baseball game on TV. We must of hung out there for a while and the whole time we just cracked eachother up. And from their it just took off. We all started to spend all of our time together. We were without a TV so we would all crowd arond the laptop screens as we would watch every sports game through game-cast which is a terrible experiance but goddamn did it make me laugh. Every day we would walk over to the caf where they would show me concoctions I had never imagined. Example did you know grilled cheese and syrup is unbeatable at lunch time? From there on out we would all just help eachother with homework and try to have as much fun as possible. A couple of times when I hit a block while writing these guys would come in and save the day. Hell Assassin Deacon is the product of the three of us together working in unison I mean the ending was all their ideas and I owe alot to those brothers. One day the unbelievable happened. We got a TV and with that came a whole new world in that dorm room. As soon as we got the TV we got an xbox, hooked it up online, and starting fragging the shit out of little kids on Halo while Timmy and Peter sat there and cursed them out on the headphones. Once the xbox and TV facotred into the room it was almost as if Peter lived in the room. Many a night I would go to sleep while they were fragging away and Id wake up with peter sleeping on the floor of the room. And then wed all just get up and go to breaks-fast. And I have to give it up to Timmy. Man he was a trooper. When he first moved in I told him I like to sleep in the cold to which he said he had no problem with. What he didnt realize is that I like to sleep with the AC on in the dead of winter. And he never once complained. When I look back and think about that one semester of my life I have to wonder if it was the best couple of months of my life. I have to admit it was definitly filled with the most laughter I had ever been around in my life. Even now as I look back and wonder if my grades had been better if I had spent as little time as possible with them I feel I would have still made the same choices and never changed a thing. These two were some of my best friends and I owe them more than they’ll ever know.