All Posts Tagged ‘Humor


Sleepy interview


A seasoned journalist from my newsroom had had a harsh polemic with a politician, the secretary of education of the regional government. She basically called him a liar in a column. He was furious and he threatened with stopping the source of info about his department. I was then one of the youngest reporters of the newspaper, but my boss sent me to try to fix the problem by offering him a broad interview about his goals and projects.

Reluctantly, he accepted and told me to go see him right after lunch.

My first interview with a  member of the government! I got ready with a battery of questions written in my notebook and my tape recorder.

Those days – it was my first year in the newsroom and I was the reporter for everything – I had been working non stop from early in the morning till very late at night and I was exhausted.

When I arrived to the office of the politician, I noticed, pretty surprised, that he was scared of me, a beginner. He awaited me ready with a stack of notes with all kind of data about all the questions I could possibly ask. I have never felt before like that the power of my profession.

It was summer, the day was very hot, the sun was shining and he had lowered the blinds to maintain the office fresh. I sat down in a very comfortable chair in front of him, turned on my tape recorder, asked my first question, began to take notes and the next thing I remember was an uneasy silence.

I opened my eyes and saw a descendant line in my notebook. I looked up and saw the man looking at me flummoxed. I just had fallen asleep! In the middle of the interview!
I looked at my list of questions, uttered the second one, and… yes. I did it again: another silence, another crazy line in my notebook…
– I’m sorry… I began to say
– Would you like a cup of coffee? he interrupted me
– Please
We managed to finish the interview and it was a good one.

(In the picture, me, as a reporter)



A confusing call

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A very mild earthquake shake my city many years ago, and it was all over the news. I was making the news, because I was working in a local newspaper at the time. It was before the Internet was an available tool.

My boss told one of my coworkers, to call to the National Seismological Institute to have the precise data of the epicentre, intensity and everything else.

He placed the call and somebody answered at the other end of the line. He began to ask technical questions to check if we had the right info. The man who answered him, asked for a few moments and then he began to confirm exactly every one of the data we had published.

Asked about the place of the epicentre, He showed an acute knowledge of the area, giving data about small villages and their idiosyncrasy. The journalist was deeply impressed.

When he told the man at the other end of the line that it was very proud to know that all the technical data were exactly as we have already had published in our newspaper, he heard the words:

– This is because I’m reading them in your newspaper.

My colleague became angry

– What lack of professionalism! I’m calling asking for the official data and you are reading the newspaper!

– Then call the National Seismological Institute and not a private home!

We all laughed.

When the journalist placed the call, he had punched the local prefix instead the prefix of de city where the Institute is located. He had made the assumption that the man who answered the call was a worker there, but instead he had called a regular citizen from the neighbourhood, excited to cooperate with the local newspaper.



The big bag theory


big bag

Big bags are like the cookie monster, they can eat, and eat, and eat things and never get tired of it.

The more room they have more things it seems that we need to take with us wherever we go.

We put things in and almost never take them out

The bigger they are the more weight we have to carry.

They are masters in hiding keys. No matter which kind of key chain you use.They would get conveniently covered under layers of packs of tissues, papers, the phone, maybe a scarf, a foldable umbrella, a toy of the kid or who knows what.

In fact, they are masters in hiding precisely that item you need, and revealing it when you don’t need it at all.

They are responsible for the developing of the art of “fishing” for the needed item thru the tact, without the participation of the sight. Aaaaaaargh!

I used to have big bags when i worked as a reporter to take with me my tape recorder, my notepad, my camera if necessary and all kind of stuff to deal with the unexpected, from an exit to the mountain books or some hobbies for the long waits in the corridors of the court-house.

But now? Enough

Small bags, My wallet, my keys, my phone, my tissues and nothing more.



Urgh’s invention


Write a piece of fiction describing the incident that gave rise to the phrase, “third time’s the charm.”

Urgh was very tired of carrying heavy weights from one place to another dragging them with a wooden platform and ropes, when he stepped in a cylindrical stone, his big right foot slipped and he fell down with din. Arg! he said looking at the guilty stone. He got up very angry and continued pushing his load . suddenly he noticed that the platform passed easily over the round stone. Next time he was carrying a big load, Urgh took the same way and was careful not to stumble upon the same stone, but he was sure to make pass the platform over it and again he found it was much easier to push the weight because the stone was rolling beneath. He stopped took the stone and said: Uh?. Third time, Urgh went directly to the spot where the stone was and brought it home. His neighbours were laughing at him for carrying so much extra weight, but he didn’t care. He began to think hard and to go out to the mountain in search for bigger stones. Then he started carving the stones to make them perfectly round with a little hole in the middle. He just had invented the wheel. Like many others, he was a misunderstood genius. According to Wikipedia his invention wasn’t generalised until many millenniums later when other men invented the chariots with wooden wheels.

History of Language.


Helm is the new win (fiction)


Click over to your favorite blog, and pick out the 4th and 14th words (that aren’t “the” or “an”). Drop them into this phrase:“_____ is the new _____.”There’s your post title. Now write!


A new program called HELM (Highly Elemental Live Monitor) is the first private anti NSA surveillance system launched by a 15-year-old high school student that in fact can detect when someone is spying on your e-mail accounts, your social media book contacts or buddy lists or your phone calls. The program immediately detects the interference and notify the user by an instant message telling “Someone is monitoring your communication”. You have then three possibilities: “stop the communication”, “continue” or “show your disapproval in your own words”.

The boy, Kevin Adams, from Pennsylvania, developed the program working on-line with a pal from India whose name and age where not disclosed. Adams is hiding because what began as a game for him has turn in a nightmare: The NSA is after him, representatives of governments like the UK, Germany and France with similar surveillance programs are looking for him, China and Russia are willing to hire him and the US Internet industry is desperate to have the program, seeing in HELM a safe boat after all the damage in profits caused by the NSA scandal.

Adams was first detected and his program discovered by the NSA because most of his users began to choose the option “Show your disapproval in your own words” when they discovered someone was monitoring their communications. We are not going to reproduce the answers here for respect to our readers. But precisely these weird answers made the NSA analysts suspicious. An Investigation began until the source of the problem was found.

An officer who spoke under anonymity’s condition said that probably HELM did more harm to PRISM than Snowden’s revelations to the press. He also said the agency is not going to press charges against Adams who is a minor. On the contrary, the NSA want’s to know more about the program and probably hire the boy.

Human rights organisations and defenders of the right of privacy are asking the NSA to live alone the teenager and are planning in naming a prize on the freedom of speech after Adams and his unknown Indian friend.


I took my words from The Jittery Goat

Daily Prompt: ______ is the new ______.

More blank posts on the next page:


Sing, sing a song


Tell us about a talent you’d love to have… but don’t.

I would like to have a good voice to sing opera and musicals and spend my life performing the great music I adore. Be Cenerentola, Carmen, Rossina, Marguerite, Mignon or the great musical female characters on stage… But I have a little weak voice and I have never been selected to sing a solo in my life. Better that way because I also have stage panic. So, a complete disaster.

I have a friend who is now an opera singer, a baritone. We were together in the University choir. We had the same opportunities but he had the voice and the talent and I didn’t. And now his whole life is devoted to his music. That would be my impossible dream.

In real life, with my weak voice I can always

Sing a song.
Sing out loud, sing out strong.
Sing of good things, not bad.
Sing of happy, not sad.
Sing a song.
Make it simple to last your whole life long.
Don´t worry that it´s not good enough for anyone else to hear.
Just sing.
Sing a song.

Daily Prompt: Practice Makes Perfect?.

Posts by talented bloggers in the next page:


No living actors for mom and dad


Cast the movie of your life.

The movie of my life? Oh my! what a disaster. But if you insist:

I would chose Sandra Bullock as me


Jack Nicholson as my boss

UnknownAnne Hattaway as my best friend

220px-AnneHathawayJan10and Dianne Keaton as my older sister.

220px-Diane_Keaton_by_Firooz_ZahediI couldn’t find among the living actors and actresses who to portrait my dad and my mom and is a pity because their life is worth to tell in a movie. A life plenty of adventures from the moment they met each other during WWII and get married. With a lot of suffering ( prison, prosecution, 12 years of forced separation ) and  a happy ending. They loved each other so much they were faithful until they get reunited. They were together until my dad died after 56 years of marriage.

I witnessed their love and I can tell you it was impressive. I remember one day, when my dad was in wheelchair almost unable to move and talk.  He asked me to go out. He wouldn’t tell me where. Only “to the city”. I always did what he wanted, so I got ready. It was complicated because my car was small, but there we went. He gave me directions and finally we arrived to a boutique he new my mom liked. I parked, unfolded the chair, helped my dad to sit in, we entered the perfume boutique and he simply said to the lady: “please, give me the best you have for my wife”. Her birthday was coming. He could send me to buy something to mom, and stay at home, but as sick as he was, he wanted to go by himself to buy the best gift for his wife.

Daily Prompt: Ready for Your Close-up.
More bloggers’ movies in the next page:


No, thank you


Walking down the street, you encounter a folded piece of paper on the sidewalk. You pick it up and read it and immediately, your life has changed. Describe this experience.

“You can find the job of your dreams. Come to see us at Slalom’s at 10:00 am. No references needed. We already know all about you”.

Strange. But what the… I need a job. And I have nothing to do this morning. I probably will end alone sipping a coffee, victim of a practical joke. I’ll take a chance. Slalom’s is around the corner and they have a good espresso.

I enter the place looking around and decide to ask for the owner. Maybe he is the one needing help. But why leaving such a strange message?

Suddenly somebody come from my back and says:

– Good morning Jane, Thanks for coming in such a short notice. We were waiting for you. We already ordered an espresso for you.

– How do you know my name? I ask turning to see who is talking to me. He is a tall dark-haired smiling middle-aged man. He is informally dressed and with him there is a younger man very serious observing us.

– We already know all about you, remember?

– Yeah, but how?

– You are a reporter, you tell us.


– Very funny.

– What do you want from me, to become a spy?.

– You are talking too loud and  to plainly.

– I’m a reporter.

– We need good and loyal analysts.

– No wonder. As I said I’m not interested.

– Think about all the information you will be able to manage.

– Think about the normal life I’m enjoying and I’m about to lose.

– Without a job?

– Did you have something to do with me losing my job?

– Please….!

– Please, leave me alone.

– Only with one condition.

– Whatever.

– You never found a note. We never met. Remember, we are watching you and we know everything about you.

– Done. CIA, NSA?

– Very funny.

Daily Prompt: Everything Changes.


The duckling number 2

English: Duckling

Duckling (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When I was a little girl I thought I wasn’t normal because I was not the average girl in school. I was the only one non Spanish in my class, the only one that didn’t know the language and I had to struggle with dyslexia. Back then, there was no so much knowledge and understanding about dyslexia and I think they thought I was a little stupid.
I remember when a nun tried to show us how to write number 2 and she explained that it was like drawing a little duck swimming. My problem was: in which direction was swimming that damned duckling? No way to distinguish that to me. I made thousands of calculations in my head and always my pencil drew the duckling going away in the opposite direction than his “normal” brothers.
Sometimes I was able to write an entire composition mirror-like without noticing it until the teacher began to call my name to ask for an explanation. I couldn’t, I can’t distinguish p from q from b from d. It’s all the same for me.
I couldn’t say right from left, above from below, so many confusing things that were so easy for the other girls.
My confusion with words were sometimes subject of jokes I didn’t like at all.
So I have to admit I wanted to be like them, invisible, not notorious in any way. It was the best way to survive. But I was not lucky, I thought then.
Now I see things differently. I was lucky to know two languages, to be able to look at the world with different eyes, to have to struggle with learning difficulties and have all the support a kid can ask for at home. That made me strong. Made me understand better people with problems.
Being at home, my parents made me feel like I was the “normal” one, by the way they explained to me the meaning of the little problems of my little life. All that made me who I am.

Daily Prompt: The Normal.