As explained in my previous post, I participate in Twitter hashtag games, and bulk those tweets up for Instagram…and sometimes they’re too big. So, instead of deleting them, I decided to post them here.

Original Tweet (the prompt was the word #villian):

Children’s laughter echoed through the abandoned playground, but as the sun set and darkness fell, their joy turned to fear. For they knew that the villainous ghost of a long-dead lollipop man still lurked at the crosswalk, waiting to claim its next victim.

The too large for Instagram remix:

Oakwood Primary School was once a bustling institution, filled with the laughter and happiness of children during their lunch breaks. The playground was their sanctuary; a place where they could forget about their worries and just be kids. Swings swayed rhythmically while slides glistened under the sun’s warmth, serving as a testament to the joyous atmosphere. But when twilight approached, the sun dipped below the horizon, and shadows extended their tendrils, the playground’s innocence evaporated, replaced by a chilling sense of dread.

Legend had it that the playground was haunted by the ghost of a lollipop man, Mr. Jenkins, who met his untimely demise many years ago. In life, he had been a beloved figure in the community, known for his gentle spirit and infectious smile. However, death had twisted his once-kind soul into a malevolent force, hellbent on exacting revenge on the living.

Skeptical at first, the children of Oakwood dismissed the eerie tales as nothing more than an elaborate hoax, an attempt to spook the gullible young ones. Yet, as they bore witness to inexplicable events occurring in the playground, their disbelief turned into spine-tingling horror. Swing seats swayed menacingly, as if pushed by unseen hands, while slides emitted tortured creaks and groans. The children were forced to confront the chilling reality that something sinister was afoot.

It was on a particularly gloomy evening when they saw him. The spectral figure of Mr. Jenkins, clad in his trademark yellow vest, lurked in the shadows, his once-beaming face contorted into a terrifying snarl. His eyes, illuminated with an eerie glow, seemed to bore into their very souls. Panic-stricken, the children fled, vowing never to venture into the playground after dark.

But youthful curiosity is a powerful force, and despite the palpable terror, some couldn’t resist the allure of seeking out the ghostly lollipop man. Their defiance would prove to be their undoing. One by one, they vanished without a trace, claimed by the malevolent spirit. The community was plunged into a state of abject despair as hope for their safe return dwindled.

Desperate to end the nightmarish ordeal, the school closed the playground, cordoning off the area and prohibiting entry. But it was all in vain, for the ghostly figure continued to haunt the desolate space, awaiting his next unsuspecting prey.

Today, Oakwood Primary School’s playground stands as a forsaken monument to terror and tragedy. Overgrown weeds choke the once-pristine slides and swings, and an eerie silence pervades the air. It remains a constant reminder of the malevolent spirit that lingers in the shadows, the ghostly lollipop man whose eternal wrath knows no bounds. The community lives in perpetual fear, knowing that should anyone dare to cross the threshold into the haunted playground, they too shall succumb to the sinister fate that befell those who came before them.

Ah, the age-old question: how does one outsmart the seemingly bumbling but deviously sharp-witted detective, Lieutenant Columbo? Well, if you’re hellbent on getting away with murder, you’ve come to the right place. Just follow these tongue-in-cheek tips, and you’ll be sipping Mai Tais on a beach somewhere, watching reruns of your own unsolved case.

Step 1: Be Incredibly Wealthy or Insanely Genius

First things first, to even stand a chance against Columbo, you have to be one of two things:

• A filthy rich, high-society type with a penchant for elaborate schemes
• A diabolical genius with a PhD in Murderology (if that isn’t a degree, it should be)

If you’re neither, well, you’re out of luck. Go back to plotting heists in Monopoly or something.

Step 2: Craft the Perfect Alibi

To throw our trenchcoat-wearing friend off the scent, you’ll need a watertight alibi. Here are some pointers:

• Make it believable: No one’s going to buy that you were at a Kenny G concert during the murder.
• Involve an accomplice: Preferably one who isn’t prone to crack under the pressure of Columbo’s relentless questioning. You know, like your grandma.
• Plant evidence: Columbo loves a good breadcrumb trail. Lead him away from the truth with some tantalizingly misleading clues.

Step 3: Master the Art of Subtlety

If there’s one thing Columbo excels at, it’s picking up on the tiniest details. So, to outwit him, you must be as subtle as a cat burglar in socks. Keep in mind:

• Avoid leaving any trace: Fingerprints, hair, that incriminating lipstick stain on your collar – you get the idea.
• Be cautious with weapons: If you’re going to use a candlestick, at least have the decency to wipe it clean afterward.
• Don’t go overboard: Remember, you’re trying to commit a murder, not stage a Broadway production. Keep it simple, folks.

Step 4: Keep Your Cool (Even When He’s Right in Front of You)

Columbo has a knack for making surprise appearances, popping up like a disheveled jack-in-the-box. When this inevitably happens, it’s crucial to remain calm, cool, and collected. Try these techniques:

• Practice your poker face: Get it down to an art, so you can look him dead in the eye and lie through your teeth.
• Feign friendliness: Offer him a cigar, invite him in for coffee – anything to make it seem like you’re not actually a cold-blooded killer.
• Stay one step ahead: Columbo is famous for his “Just one more thing…” tactic. Always be ready with a clever response that’ll throw him off the trail.

Step 5: Accept Defeat Gracefully

Let’s be honest, the odds are stacked against you. Columbo is the king of cracking cases, and there’s a good chance he’ll catch you in the end. When that day comes, remember:

• Admit your wrongdoing: Confessing is always easier than trying to outsmart him with yet another convoluted lie.
• Compliment his detective skills: Stroke his ego a bit; after all, he did manage to catch you.
• Prepare for life behind bars: Start a book club, take up knitting, or become an expert in prison cuisine – whatever floats your boat. Embrace your new reality and make the best of it.

In conclusion, while beating Columbo and getting away with murder might seem like a tantalizing prospect, the chances of success are slim to none. But hey, at least you’ll have a great story to tell your fellow inmates during those long nights in the slammer.

So, for those of you entertaining any devious thoughts, perhaps it’s best to channel that energy into something more productive – like binge-watching Columbo and taking notes on what not to do. After all, it’s always better to be on the right side of the law, and you’re far more likely to enjoy that Mai Tai on the beach without the nagging fear of being apprehended by everyone’s favorite detective.

And remember, folks: crime doesn’t pay, but watching Columbo certainly does.

As explained in a previous post, I participate in Twitter hashtag games, and bulk those tweets up for Instagram…and sometimes they’re too big. So, instead of deleting them, I decided to post them here.

Original Tweet (the prompt was the word #butterscotch):

The first lips that ever pressed on mine belonged to Rosemarie Rumph and when her tongue entered my mouth it was smooth and slick and warm and tasted faintly of butterscotch schnapps.

She kissed me on a dare, but I didn’t care. I fell in love instantly.

The too large for Instagram remix:

As soon as I saw Rosemarie Rumph, I knew she was different. With her curly brown hair and bright green eyes, she stood out from the rest of the crowd. We were both in high school, and although we shared a few classes, we had never really talked before.

One day, a group of us were hanging out after school when Rosemarie suddenly turned to me and said, “I dare you to kiss me.”

I froze. Was she serious? Did she really want me to kiss her? I had always been nervous around girls, but with Rosemarie, the stakes felt even higher. What if I screwed it all up?

But something in her eyes made me think that this was more than just a game. So I leaned in, my heart pounding in my chest, and pressed my lips to hers.

At first, it was awkward. We both kept our lips tightly closed, unsure of what to do. But then, as if she sensed my hesitation, Rosemarie opened her mouth and deepened the kiss.

It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Her tongue was warm and wet and tasted faintly of butterscotch schnapps. I felt dizzy with pleasure as our lips moved together in a slow, sensual dance.

When we finally pulled away, I was breathless. Rosemarie looked at me with a mixture of amusement and desire in her eyes.

“You’re a good kisser,” she said, her voice low and husky.

I didn’t know what to say. All I could think was that I wanted to do it again. And again. And again.

Over the next few weeks, Rosemarie and I started spending more time together. We would sneak off during lunch breaks to make out behind the bleachers, or hold hands under the table during class. It felt like we were the only two people in the world.

But then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. One day, Rosemarie stopped returning my calls and started avoiding me at school. I was heartbroken, but I didn’t know what to do.

Years went by, and I dated other girls, but none of them ever compared to Rosemarie. She was always in the back of my mind, a ghost that haunted my every kiss.

And then, one day, I saw her again. We were both adults now, and I had almost forgotten what she looked like. But as soon as I saw her, all those old feelings came rushing back.

We started talking, and before I knew it, we were kissing again. It was like we had never been apart. And I’ll be damned if her kisses still didn’t taste like butterscotch schnapps.

Popular belief has it that the universe is comprised of atoms. In reality, the universe is actually made up of…

As gravity was a mere suggestion to Prof. Quentin Quirkus, the eccentric inventor crafted a pair of “boundless” socks that allowed wearers to defy the laws of physics and dance effortlessly among the clouds. Little did he know, these socks were actually gateways to a whimsical dimension where sentient clouds organized celestial dance-offs, and the winner was granted a single wish—leading to unexpected chaos of sock-clad adventurers competing for their heart’s desires.