I love that expression, lol. I decided to post an old post from a blog I operated years ago. I thought it would serve the purpose of entertainment, and as I previously stated, I am longing to assume my grip on my creativity. Enjoy…
It was a morning like any other for Winston T Grape. He spent it hanging out with friends and having a nice, relaxing day, but when the evening rolled around, Winston was called into work. Winston worked a dangerous job at the enamel mines in the north. Frequent flooding and cave-ins made it so few of Winston’s friends ever returned. Winston donned his plum colored uniform, and ventured out the door for what could be the last time.
Winston was ready for his regular work, but he found that he was redirected to the mine in the south where he would be working alone. This gave Winston pause. Not much was known of the mine in the south and certainly, none of Winston’s friends had ever been there to the best of his knowledge, but Winston was no raisin. No-sir-ee! Winston was a Grape, just like his father before him, and his father before him.
When Winston arrived at the mouth of the cavern, he noticed some similarities in humidity and appearance, but the southern mine was smaller and this was going to be a tight fit. Winston peered cautiously inside; the walls were slippery. Suddenly, as if some unseen forced nudged Winston from behind, Winston found himself tumbling into the depths of the cavern.
When Winston came to, he was somewhere in the middle of the mine. He took a look around and realized he was alone and the situation was dire. Furthermore, there was no enamel to be mined here! What the hell was he supposed to be mining? Fortunately the sounds of a rescue team were mobilizing outside. Winston could see as the rescue workers attempted their first rescue, but alas, the rope was only long enough to reach Winston, and the rescue worker’s attempts to grab Winston only pushed him further into the cave. The rescue worker had to withdraw. Suddenly, there was a cave-in of sorts. The walls moved slightly, and it felt as though Winston were moving back toward the opening of the cave, but when the cave-in stopped, Winston sank back into the depths. A flood of water that originated closer to the opening of the cave washed directly out and didn’t help Winston at all. These were dark times indeed!
What Winston didn’t know is that a rescue team with a longer rope was being formed outside. This rescue team was highly specialized and good at what they do, but this was not their usual mission. The specialized rescue team was sent out, and they entered the mine. With nary a difficulty they grabbed Winston and pulled him out of the mine. That took so little time, they rescue team was actually upset that they were called in for so trivial a rescue, and they just tossed Winston onto the midland plains just north of the mine.
Winston was lost. All he knew at this point was work and he started roaming toward the mines in the north. He was tired, and he was wet. Every step exuded moisture, and when Winston arrived between the bountiful twin peaks he turned and looked at the glistening trail that had been left in his wake. He was immediately picked up and put to work in the enamel mines and never returned again.
The moral of the story:
Don’t put a grape in your vagina.