Wednesday Works: The Formula For Happiness

There is no proper formula for happiness.

No scientists or chemists hidden behind machines,

Spinning circles with different chemicals and substances,

Searching for the answer.

There is no formula for happiness,

But there are ingredients to try.

A smile full of teeth,

Enough warmth to fill a chest,

Laughter loud enough to fill halls and cathedrals,

And you,

My sweet one. 


Wednesday Works: A Rooftop Decision 

Sitting up on the roof was not usually one of his favorite past times. He was usually afraid of heights, but that night, he had more on his mind than just his fear of heights. He had planned to just go upstairs and think in one of the empty bedrooms that none of the partiers had inhabited, but the window had been open and it led out to the roof. It seemed peaceful, so there he was, his mind heavy with the possibilities. 

The party had been for him, and his best friend after they graduated high school. He had been accepted to a great school back east and as far as he knew she had elected not to go to college. She was more the artsy type anyway. 

He had been trying to tell her his feelings for years, but something had always gotten in the way. He knew he was running out of time, but maybe she would want to go back east with him. He knew he could no longer wait, he had to tell her his feelings that night. 

But how? Should he do it in front of everyone, or pull her away to the side? Big gesture or small gestures? Use the big “L” word or not yet? There were too many possibilities to think of all at once. 

An owl hooted close and he found the creature’s eyes staring back at him from the closest tree in the yard. He knew he would have looked and sounded crazy to anyone else, but no one else was there, so he told the owl everything. 

As he did, he came to a decision. 


He ran down the stairs as quick as he could, taking two and sometimes three at a time. He had to find her. He nearly crashed into three other party guests as he reached the ground floor, and they just laughed it off. His fellow high school graduates trying to feign sobriety, their glassy eyes said otherwise. 

Luckily she found him. “Mitch!” She exclaimed happily, pulling a twenty-something with her. “I want you to meet my boyfriend, Cameron!” 

Wednesday Works: An Adult Book Book Report by a Fifth Grader

Fifty Shades of Grey in Our Culture: A View on Why Sarah Stevens Slapped Me


Joel Fisherman

Before the introduction of Fifty Shades of Grey, there was Twilight. My stupid sister had to read all the books when they came out, and she begged my mom for weeks and weeks and weeks to take her to the movies when they came out. I wanted to stay with dad and do manly stuff, like work on the classic cars and mow the lawn and talk about shaving, but mom made me go with them. She said that it would make me appreciate women better, whatever that means. I thought they were the stupidest movies ever, and then Fifty Shades of Grey came out.

Like Twilight, my sister begged and begged and begged my mom to get the books for her, but like everything else my mom gives my sister she has to read or watch it first. She doesn’t want it “poisoning our young minds” when there are all the things out there that are “safe” for kids, like My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and Teletubbies. What she doesn’t know, is that both my sister and I know about the internet and rule 34. Anyway, she had to read Fifty Shades of Grey first.

It took her weeks and weeks, and she was set in her ways that my sister, nor I, could even lay a hand on that darn book. Not that I cared, it was a stupid book based on another stupid book. My sister, a freshman in high school, was angry to say the least, and she wanted that book. What I didn’t know was that she would get it.

So what does this have to do with why Sarah Stevens slapped me? I’m getting to that. Anyway, my sister read the book behind mom’s back, in her bed under the blankets with a flashlight. How do I know this? She would tell me almost every detail on the way to school, and at first I was grossed out, but then I thought to myself: “Does that stuff actually work on women?” It had to, right? Why else would everyone want to read it and be so happy all the time? I had to know why, so I had to run an experiment, but more on that later.

So back to Sarah Stevens. We’ve known each other since kindergarten practically, and it wasn’t until this year in Ms. Buzman’s class that I started to feel all weird around her. She used to gross me out, but now I find myself wanting to hold her hand and play more than tag with her, and mushy stuff like that. Because of that, and all my sister had told me about Fifty Shades of Grey, I decided she would be the best test subject for my experiment.

I asked my sister more about Christian Grey and Edward Cullen and what made them so attractive to women and she told me all about it. At first, I was disgusted, and then somehow it all started to make sense. Some of the phrases were foreign to me, since I haven’t taken a lot of sex ed, but I do have the internet, and google, and a few sites I probably shouldn’t mention in this paper.

So after weeks and weeks of research, figuring out how to act and look like Christian Grey, or Edward Cullen, minus the sparkles. I finally had it all set. My experiment was all set to move forward.

I decided to do it on a Wednesday. Not sure why, I just woke up that morning and decided that that was the day. I would get my results by lunch, no chickening out, even though looking through all my research that morning on the bus, I did feel a little stupid.

At the first recess, I unbuttoned the shirt of my school uniform, just like Christian Grey wore his in one scene, and I approached Sarah on the playground. She was hanging around with her goofy friends, both more annoying than her and way less pretty, but she was the first experiment, and they were there if I needed a second and third test subject. So I went up to her, did my best impression of Christian Grey (smoulder included), looked her straight in the eye, and said:

“I don’t know whether to worship at your feet, or spank the living shit out of you”.

At first she was confused, and then her face turned varying shades of red, and I wondered if it was really that easy to make a girl have an organism. Then she started yelling a bunch of things that I probably shouldn’t repeat here, probably that she learned from her mom and dad. And then she slapped me the hardest I have ever been slapped in my life and ran away crying.

Experiment number one failed. Sarah now refuses to talk to me, her friends think I’m the biggest jerk alive, and I have no other test subjects at this time.

What I don’t understand is why women think Fifty Shades of Grey and Twilight are so worth reading. Why do the the men in them get to do all of the things they do and the women eat it up, and then when I do it, I get slapped? I don’t understand it, but I intend to research further. I want to know why Fifty Shades of Grey is so popular!

Joel- This was not the approved assignment. See me after class.

Wednesday Works: The Object on your Left is a Metaphor

The object to my left is an internal hard drive for a laptop.

Life would be so much easier if people were hard drives. You would fill them up with all of your information, your pictures, your photos, your memories. And then, when you get sick of them, and all they contain, you can switch them out for a shiny new version, with tons of extra space.

Of course, people are not hard drives. Nor are they treasure chests. You cannot crack them open, plunder the riches within and then leave them forgotten. People are much more special than hard drives, or treasure chests.

They themselves are the treasure.

Wednesday Works: Make a Mixtape for Someone You Love. The Songs Cannot include “Love You” in the Title

These lists are fun, and I definitely enjoy love songs more than hate songs!

  1. Every Thug Needs A Lady- Alkaline Trio
  2. Shut Up and Dance- Walk the Moon
  3. Gates- The Menzingers
  4. I Don’t Wanna Be An Asshole Anymore- The Menzingers
  5. The Luckiest- Ben Folds
  6. China- Tori Amos
  7. Joy Comes in the Morning- Red City Radio
  8. Montreal- Elway
  9. Fatally Yours- Alkaline Trio
  10. Songbird- Fleetwood Mac
  11. Hands Down- Dashboard Confessional
  12. Let Me Call You Sweetheart- Bing Crosby
  13. Nose Over Tail- Alkaline Trio
  14. 1000 Oceans- Tori Amos
  15. Better Whenever-Elway

Wednesday Works: Pick a Word and Google It, Write about the Seventh Image

For those of you keeping track, this is day 9 of the May Blog Challenge.

I chose the word “Melts” and I honestly didn’t expect food to come up.

It looks so good, but so bad for you

It looks so good, but so bad for you

He was so hungry he would eat anything at that point. Anything that had salt, and flavor and made him feel like he was eating anything other than the cardboard shit his doctor had been feeding him. He missed real food, and he couldn’t believe that he could no longer have it.

It had started just over a year ago, when he had gone to the doctor for a routine check up. The doctor had found high blood pressure and had urged him to correct his diet, exercise more and to not stress as much. He was told that six months after that, they would check his progress again and see how his blood pressure was doing.

Six months later, his blood pressure was even higher and he was complaining of chest pain. So the doctor scheduled an EKG and found cause for alarm. His heart valves were failing and he had an enlarged left side of his heart. So the doctor sent him to a diet specialist who taught him about Cardiac restrictions in his diet. That meant no salt, limited fats, and even less flavor. His wife made sure of that and he was really starting to hate his new, not very satisfying nutrition regimen.

And then, one day when he was out around town without his wife, he saw it, or at least a picture of it in the window of the local deli. Free Melt with the Purchase of a Large Drink touted the sign in the window and he knew it was wrong, but it felt so right.

So he looked around for anyone who would see him duck into the deli and stepped in in just a few steps. He felt as though he was committing a crime, but he was sure the reward would be so worth it. If the actual melt looked anything like the sign, the bread perfectly toasted, the cheese melted just perfectly and the meat grilled to perfection, it would all be worth the supposed jail time his wife would inflict on him if she knew. But as far as he knew, no one would tell her if he bribed them with enough cash.

So he ordered, and watched it get made and put together right before his eyes, and he waited for them to call his pseudonym, Mr. Jones. Then when he went to pay for his drink and receive his free melt, he slipped them a 20 with a wink and slinked to the farthest corner of the deli, where no one could see him through the window. Then he took his first bite.

The taste was better than any other melt he had ever had. Screw his doctors and his wife, he was either going to die from eating what he wanted, or live a shorter life because he could not give up the foods he liked. He refused to be tortured by the blandest diet known to man. So he enjoyed the melt all the way until the last bite, and even sucked the cheese off of the yellow paper beneath the sandwich. He refused to let a drop go to waste. If he fell to the floor and had a heart attack right there in the deli, then so be it, but he was going to die happy.

Later that evening, sitting over a plate of steamed and boiled whatever vegetables, his wife asked him about his day. And he lied, thinking he could get away with what he had done.Only she knew better.

“I can see the cheese on your shirt, Harold”

He would have preferred the heart attack to what ire was to come from her.

Day 8

You are now unable to leave the room you are in for the next week. Write about your experiences day by day.

My first thoughts as they shut the door and lock it are “Well, I suppose it could be worse”. My next thought is “It could be cleaner”. It is only hours later that I think of food. By then, it is too late to escape my confinement. The next few hours are spent shouting for someone to “grill me a cheese”. No one hears me.

This room is cruel without food and water. If I had known there was no chance for food I would have planned accordingly, or at least cut a hole in the door for food to be delivered. I did not think ahead and I might starve here, in this room of many colors. In other news, the paint is not edible, neither are book pages. Still no one hears my shouts of “Grill me a cheese!”

Surprisingly, I feel a bit better. I cleaned up the messy areas and found a dime and three pennies. It does not seem like much, but once out of this room I only need 87 more to make a dollar and buy me something from the dollar menu. Dang it! Now I’m hungry again. I must not think of food and water. I can survive this!

I continued to clean up and found a bag of half eaten trail mix. The nuts are stale and the raisins are beyond eating, but the chocolate is edible. Now if only I had something to quench my insatiable thirst! In other news, there were more books in here than I thought.

It is only now, after four abd a half days in confinement, that I realize those stains are not coming out of the carpet. I tried to make most of it into the trashcan, but the carpet will have to be replaced. The smell is also unbearable. I am forced to wipe myself with binder paper, which has now become my food source. The fiber does wonders for my colon, but is not as palatable as a steak. Mmmmmm, food. Dang it, not again! Two more days in this hell and then I am free.

I have read all the books there are to read, eaten most of the paper, and used up all of the yarn to knit and crochet people for me to talk to. I need a life outside this room, and desperately soon. Mr. Yarny Bob says I might need therapy after this, but I tell him to shut his trap before I tear him apart and build a new yarn person. At least it’s better than talking to the voices in my head. They’re scary!

Only a few hours remain before my freedom, and I anticipate my release. I require a shower and real food and water. For now I sit and twiddle my thumbs. The room is clean (with the exception of a few spots), and I got all of my reading done and my yarn all knitted and crocheted. Next time, if there is a next time, I will definitely stock up better.
The door opens and I smile. They grilled me a cheese.