<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:44:12.133-08:00</updated><category term='Ryan Brammen'/><category term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>Ryan's 50 Word Short-Stories</title><subtitle type='html'>To my fans, this is my promise to you.
A promise to help get this day into hindsight’s view. 
Something to make you smile.
Something to entertain for a while. 
I hereby declare to use my skills to display - 
A new and creative short-story, for your pleasure, every single day!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>128</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5680946749777637557</id><published>2009-12-07T15:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T07:14:30.071-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Name</title><content type='html'>After nearly four years of intense work,&lt;br /&gt;He entered his final exam room with a childish smirk.&lt;br /&gt;Hitting the paper ferociously and instantly with glee,&lt;br /&gt;He answered every question flawlessly.&lt;br /&gt;Upon exiting the exam room however, his legs began to feel lame; &lt;br /&gt;He had forgotten to write down his name.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5680946749777637557?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5680946749777637557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5680946749777637557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5680946749777637557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title='The Name'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2304864192869427836</id><published>2009-12-06T12:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T12:43:43.063-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Model</title><content type='html'>Posing for her first self-modeling shoot,&lt;br /&gt;Lisa started the set with a fantastically sexy salute.&lt;br /&gt;Taking pictures of herself long into the night,&lt;br /&gt;Her angles, posture and smile amazingly tight.&lt;br /&gt;About to review her photos, she suddenly became withdrawn,&lt;br /&gt;When she sadly noticed that the lens cap was still on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2304864192869427836?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2304864192869427836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/12/model.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2304864192869427836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2304864192869427836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/12/model.html' title='The Model'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-8473113239155480968</id><published>2009-12-05T02:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T04:05:49.329-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Elevator</title><content type='html'>“Almost there.” He did think,&lt;br /&gt;Carrying massive bags, his arms on the brink.&lt;br /&gt;Head down, his pace was a crawl,&lt;br /&gt;The elevator, he knew, was at the end of the hall.&lt;br /&gt;He got there and let out a gleeful shriek, &lt;br /&gt;Till he saw the sign; “Elevator out until next week.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-8473113239155480968?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/8473113239155480968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/12/elevator.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8473113239155480968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8473113239155480968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/12/elevator.html' title='The Elevator'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7976053115378640713</id><published>2009-06-14T04:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T04:10:54.970-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Dinner</title><content type='html'>He had been building up courage for a week,&lt;br /&gt;They had just finished dinner, he could hardly speak.&lt;br /&gt;”Jenni,” he started. “I…I love you.” &lt;br /&gt;She turned around, smiled with eyes shimmering in the view.&lt;br /&gt;With a running leap she hugged him close,&lt;br /&gt;“I love you too…just like my dog Rose!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7976053115378640713?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7976053115378640713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/10/dinner.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7976053115378640713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7976053115378640713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/10/dinner.html' title='The Dinner'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2309682131367605949</id><published>2009-06-13T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T13:16:52.443-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Relaxation</title><content type='html'>She was perfect, he couldn’t think straight,&lt;br /&gt;Tall, gorgeous, young; not one faulty trait! &lt;br /&gt;She lowered herself onto his black slacks,&lt;br /&gt;”Everything’s gonna be alright,” she said. ”Relax...”&lt;br /&gt;Taking her words a bit too literally, for when she had made a start,&lt;br /&gt;He flinched and let out a massive fart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2309682131367605949?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2309682131367605949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/10/relaxation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2309682131367605949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2309682131367605949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/10/relaxation.html' title='The Relaxation'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-6554071546333187975</id><published>2009-06-12T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T12:58:35.629-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Refurbishment</title><content type='html'>He awoke early morning close to half three,&lt;br /&gt;Desperately needing to steady himself and pee.&lt;br /&gt;Clumsily making his way through the night,&lt;br /&gt;He entered his cold W.C. without turning on the light.&lt;br /&gt;Bending over and falling mightily with a hard splat,&lt;br /&gt;He realized that he hated his newly refurbished flat…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-6554071546333187975?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/6554071546333187975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/10/refurbishment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6554071546333187975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6554071546333187975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/10/refurbishment.html' title='The Refurbishment'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-8828674828822610326</id><published>2009-06-11T13:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T13:35:05.627-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Mix-up</title><content type='html'>Tonight she was in a kinky mood,&lt;br /&gt;She desperately wanted him under her hood.&lt;br /&gt;They went to bed and turned off the light,&lt;br /&gt;She pulled out her ‘present’; held the bottle tight.&lt;br /&gt;She began pouring and he screamed grabbing his Willie,&lt;br /&gt;For it wasn’t cherry she’d bought, it was chili.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-8828674828822610326?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/8828674828822610326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/mix-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8828674828822610326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8828674828822610326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/mix-up.html' title='The Mix-up'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2031506067784262009</id><published>2009-06-10T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T11:25:58.371-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Directions</title><content type='html'>Pierre was in a foul mood,&lt;br /&gt;Brooding all day and thinking about food.&lt;br /&gt;Someone had asked for help to King’s station,&lt;br /&gt;He hated disruptions and pointed her in the complete wrong direction.&lt;br /&gt;But as he turned to depart, smiling with evil glee,&lt;br /&gt;He smashed his face right into a tree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2031506067784262009?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2031506067784262009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/directions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2031506067784262009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2031506067784262009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/directions.html' title='The Directions'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-8854966872701317289</id><published>2009-06-09T13:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T11:17:07.547-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Loo</title><content type='html'>Karen arrived in a flowing white dress,&lt;br /&gt;Smelling of roses, she was out to impress.&lt;br /&gt;Before they could get busy, she needed the loo,&lt;br /&gt;Michael guided her thinking, ‘Guess even chicks need to poo.”&lt;br /&gt;Upon flushing, Michael heard curses being spoken, &lt;br /&gt;He forgot to mention that his toilet was broken.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-8854966872701317289?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/8854966872701317289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_09.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8854966872701317289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8854966872701317289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_09.html' title='The Loo'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-515779449888653562</id><published>2009-06-08T15:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T11:08:14.647-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Laptop</title><content type='html'>His project soon to be complete,&lt;br /&gt;The room full of sweat and heat.&lt;br /&gt;He typed away, anxious for it to be done,&lt;br /&gt;He couldn’t remember at what hour he’d begun. &lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, the laptop shut off with a dying spin,&lt;br /&gt;He looked past it and sighed…he’d forgotten to plug it in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-515779449888653562?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/515779449888653562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_08.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/515779449888653562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/515779449888653562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_08.html' title='The Laptop'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5123615903494100169</id><published>2009-06-07T02:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T04:27:57.739-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Friend</title><content type='html'>The night had been so fun,&lt;br /&gt;But he couldn’t remember what he’d done.&lt;br /&gt;Ah! He’d gotten wasted and invited a girl back,&lt;br /&gt;Stunning blonde with one hell of a rack.&lt;br /&gt;He felt her spooning….he needed to behave.&lt;br /&gt;But when he looked over his shoulder, it was best friend Dave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5123615903494100169?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5123615903494100169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/x.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5123615903494100169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5123615903494100169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/x.html' title='The Friend'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2450904695003888965</id><published>2009-06-06T04:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T11:22:07.637-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Bottle</title><content type='html'>Head aching from a heavy night,&lt;br /&gt;Needing water to soothe his body and sight.&lt;br /&gt;Off to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of H20,&lt;br /&gt;He toasted his sleeping mate, “cheers bro.” &lt;br /&gt;Guzzling it all down, excess dripping from his chin.&lt;br /&gt;Seconds later he spat it out…it wasn’t water, it was gin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2450904695003888965?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2450904695003888965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_06.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2450904695003888965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2450904695003888965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_06.html' title='The Bottle'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7633187151161994049</id><published>2009-06-05T03:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T11:06:09.059-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Passport</title><content type='html'>Behind schedule, he needed to hurry,&lt;br /&gt;His flight waited, he sped past in a flurry.&lt;br /&gt;Arriving at check-in, counter women let out a yawn,&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, if I miss this, my job is gone!”&lt;br /&gt;“Passport please,” she retorted. “Let’s not dwell.”&lt;br /&gt;Then suddenly, he remembered it was still at the hotel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7633187151161994049?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7633187151161994049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_05.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7633187151161994049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7633187151161994049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_05.html' title='The Passport'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5741072070216295087</id><published>2009-06-04T01:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T10:55:11.219-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Fountain</title><content type='html'>Dale was drunk off wine ever so cheap,&lt;br /&gt;He desperately needed a shower and sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Wandering amuck, stumbling to and fro,&lt;br /&gt;He squinted his way home - the way he did know.&lt;br /&gt;Finally! He jumped into his hydro-mountain,&lt;br /&gt;Only to find himself, a few hours later, awake in a fountain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5741072070216295087?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5741072070216295087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_04.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5741072070216295087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5741072070216295087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_04.html' title='The Fountain'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-3603066920284959777</id><published>2009-06-03T01:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T12:48:18.880-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Restroom</title><content type='html'>The party was awesome,&lt;br /&gt;He had never drunk so much Cherry Absinthe-Blossom.&lt;br /&gt;Needing the toilet he trotted along the hall,&lt;br /&gt;The man in the restroom told him not to go into the stall.&lt;br /&gt;He disregarded the advice as a sober diss,&lt;br /&gt;And walked straight into a massive puddle of piss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-3603066920284959777?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/3603066920284959777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_03.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3603066920284959777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3603066920284959777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_03.html' title='The Restroom'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7530666244804328042</id><published>2009-06-02T13:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T12:34:09.007-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Sprint</title><content type='html'>Today was the final of the 100 meter,&lt;br /&gt;Winning would make Damion’s triumphant week even sweeter.&lt;br /&gt;He psyched himself up; positioned himself steady,&lt;br /&gt;The announcer rumbled into the microphone, “on your marks, ready”.&lt;br /&gt;And as Damion prepared for his final stride…&lt;br /&gt;He noticed that his shoe laces were not tied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7530666244804328042?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7530666244804328042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_02.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7530666244804328042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7530666244804328042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_02.html' title='The Sprint'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-3606371232257491023</id><published>2009-06-01T10:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T13:06:54.118-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Bird</title><content type='html'>Two friends stopped to admire a statue-man.&lt;br /&gt;Matt: “How do they stand all day and not tan?”&lt;br /&gt;Peter:  “And he looks like a chump.”&lt;br /&gt;Peter continues: “Ya’know what’d be funny…if a bird just took a dump…”&lt;br /&gt;Peter stopped as Matt’s face went red.&lt;br /&gt;“Pete…I think a bird just…on your head.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-3606371232257491023?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/3606371232257491023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3606371232257491023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3606371232257491023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='The Bird'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-1874127209988360471</id><published>2009-05-31T10:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T12:58:11.818-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Uncle</title><content type='html'>Dillon had forgotten his sun cream,&lt;br /&gt;Outdoors, his skin succumbed to the sun’s beam.&lt;br /&gt;Recovering the next day, he answered the door, &lt;br /&gt;Wishing he could just lie on the cold stone floor. &lt;br /&gt;He winced in pain as he saw his uncle Doug;&lt;br /&gt;This uncle always gave Dillon a massive hug.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-1874127209988360471?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/1874127209988360471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_31.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1874127209988360471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1874127209988360471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_31.html' title='The Uncle'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5621671729416457958</id><published>2009-05-30T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T12:48:32.434-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Camera</title><content type='html'>Finally, all his friends were back together,&lt;br /&gt;Though months of planning and patience for perfect weather.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone in the garden, all dressed and happy,&lt;br /&gt;Billy took out his camera…he felt especially sappy. &lt;br /&gt;Nothing happened when he clicked; he clinched, turning green…&lt;br /&gt;And cursed as ‘low battery’ flashed across the screen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5621671729416457958?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5621671729416457958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_30.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5621671729416457958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5621671729416457958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_30.html' title='The Camera'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-590161429239413784</id><published>2009-05-29T12:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T07:47:49.740-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Italian</title><content type='html'>He met the most beautiful Italian girl,&lt;br /&gt;Majestically blonde with a reddish twirl.&lt;br /&gt;They had fun all night, he took her home,&lt;br /&gt;He played it slow, asked her what she had brought from Rome.&lt;br /&gt;She revealed a pet, “named Mr. Hats”.&lt;br /&gt;He gasped, grabbing his throat…he was allergic to cats.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-590161429239413784?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/590161429239413784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_29.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/590161429239413784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/590161429239413784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_29.html' title='The Italian'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7853102887220884010</id><published>2009-05-28T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T07:40:19.160-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Play</title><content type='html'>The biggest hand of the night, &lt;br /&gt;Darrell would not lose without a fight&lt;br /&gt;Looking at his cards, “all in” he did command!&lt;br /&gt;His opponent won; Darrell lost everything in one hand…&lt;br /&gt;From his couch, Jim yawned and scratched his head.&lt;br /&gt;Then he turned off the TV and went to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7853102887220884010?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7853102887220884010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_28.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7853102887220884010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7853102887220884010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_28.html' title='The Play'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7364439728951703527</id><published>2009-05-27T15:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T07:04:45.829-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Deal</title><content type='html'>Doug, starving, went to the local pub,&lt;br /&gt;For 5 pounds he had beer and a foot-long sub.&lt;br /&gt;He headed outside feeling truly great,&lt;br /&gt;Having enjoyed a cheap meal which filled his plate.&lt;br /&gt;His smile vanished though, as next door he saw a sign:&lt;br /&gt;“4 pounds All-You-Can-Eat Buffet plus endless wine!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7364439728951703527?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7364439728951703527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_27.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7364439728951703527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7364439728951703527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_27.html' title='The Deal'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-6496018681482044715</id><published>2009-05-26T11:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T06:57:40.107-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Sleep</title><content type='html'>3 A.M., Peter wasn’t happy.&lt;br /&gt;He’d enjoyed partying, but got sick and snappy.&lt;br /&gt;Coming home to regurgitate his night’s drink,&lt;br /&gt;He aimed for the toilet and not the sink.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, his watched beeped 9 o’clock; he felt a bit wet.&lt;br /&gt;He opened his eyes…his face was still in the toilet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-6496018681482044715?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/6496018681482044715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_26.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6496018681482044715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6496018681482044715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_26.html' title='The Sleep'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-6753274171034768218</id><published>2009-05-25T08:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T06:50:35.972-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Bathroom</title><content type='html'>Drinking quite heavily, Greg felt unwell.&lt;br /&gt;If he kept this up any longer, it would be hell.&lt;br /&gt;Taking one last sip, his body said ‘No’,&lt;br /&gt;Holding his stomach, he felt ready to go.&lt;br /&gt;As it began seeping from his mouth; he shocked,&lt;br /&gt;He sprinted to the bathroom...but it was locked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-6753274171034768218?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/6753274171034768218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_25.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6753274171034768218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6753274171034768218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_25.html' title='The Bathroom'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-4649841166775062053</id><published>2009-05-24T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T05:52:04.316-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Clock</title><content type='html'>Finally, exams over, he was free!&lt;br /&gt;He needed to relax, and tomorrow sleep late until 3.&lt;br /&gt;Arriving home, hopping into bed, &lt;br /&gt;He fast fell asleep, his fluffy pillow supporting his head.&lt;br /&gt;Awakened early the next morning by a loud shock,&lt;br /&gt;He realized had forgotten to turn off his alarm clock.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-4649841166775062053?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/4649841166775062053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/clock.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4649841166775062053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4649841166775062053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/clock.html' title='The Clock'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2216356281046038079</id><published>2009-05-23T08:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T08:11:29.979-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Club</title><content type='html'>Having traveled two hours for this club,&lt;br /&gt;Peter had cleverly drunk a lot in the pub.&lt;br /&gt;Feeling quite tipsy, people slowly entered,&lt;br /&gt;He couldn’t wait to hit on the womanly herd.&lt;br /&gt;Approaching the entrance, the bouncer removed him with a smug grin.&lt;br /&gt;“Sorry mate, wrong shoes. Can’t let you in.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2216356281046038079?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2216356281046038079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/club.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2216356281046038079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2216356281046038079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/club.html' title='The Club'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-4795495754920518831</id><published>2009-05-22T04:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T04:37:04.336-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Bag</title><content type='html'>Home from a late night out,&lt;br /&gt;Vincent was smashed after a month alcohol drought.&lt;br /&gt;In bed, head spinning, he felt a gag,&lt;br /&gt;Rolling to his side – he grabbed his bedside bag.&lt;br /&gt;Beginning to chunder everything out of his head,&lt;br /&gt;He realized he wasn’t holding a bin, but his backpack instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-4795495754920518831?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/4795495754920518831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/bag.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4795495754920518831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4795495754920518831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/bag.html' title='The Bag'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7443824741606391746</id><published>2009-05-21T10:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T04:11:26.039-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Confession</title><content type='html'>Clubbing, Manny felt like a pretty cool dude,&lt;br /&gt;He chatted up long-term friend Cindy to improve his mood.&lt;br /&gt;“Cindy, I’ve loved you since I met you.”&lt;br /&gt;Cindy excitedly replied, “Manny! I love you too!”&lt;br /&gt;She smiled as he laughed; grabbing his junk,&lt;br /&gt;“Nah, just kidding. But you look doable drunk.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7443824741606391746?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7443824741606391746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_21.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7443824741606391746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7443824741606391746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_21.html' title='The Confession'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-4528290493667877695</id><published>2009-05-20T01:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T10:55:19.898-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The 100th</title><content type='html'>“So, 100 short stories?” asked Pete.&lt;br /&gt;“That’s right.” Said Ryan. “Just finishing the 100th now, it’s elite”&lt;br /&gt;“What’s it gonna be about?”&lt;br /&gt;“Making fun of Jenni. I slept with her and she was way too stout.”&lt;br /&gt;Pete paused. Ryan continued, “Something wrong with that plan?”&lt;br /&gt;“Um, she’s got Herpes man...”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-4528290493667877695?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/4528290493667877695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_20.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4528290493667877695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4528290493667877695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_20.html' title='The 100th'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5369245598757622100</id><published>2009-05-19T12:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T10:45:27.530-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Machine</title><content type='html'>At the station, the last train soon to depart the scene.&lt;br /&gt;Having no money, he ran to the cash-machine.&lt;br /&gt;Queue was massive; this was not fun.&lt;br /&gt;Eight ahead…three…none!&lt;br /&gt;Hammering in the card, one minute before the train would dash.&lt;br /&gt;He looked back…‘This machine is no longer able to dispense cash.’&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5369245598757622100?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5369245598757622100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5369245598757622100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5369245598757622100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_19.html' title='The Machine'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-4476490760072932690</id><published>2009-05-18T06:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T06:28:24.286-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Sauce</title><content type='html'>Back from shopping, he prepared a large meal,&lt;br /&gt;Salad, potatoes and broiled veal.&lt;br /&gt;Cooking would take hours, but it was worth the wait.&lt;br /&gt;He grew anxious as he filled up his plate.&lt;br /&gt;Preparing the final touch to his meat gloss,&lt;br /&gt;He opened the fridge…he forgot to buy his favorite sauce.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-4476490760072932690?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/4476490760072932690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/sauce.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4476490760072932690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4476490760072932690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/sauce.html' title='The Sauce'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-3723084855221414313</id><published>2009-05-17T14:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T06:06:41.756-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Store</title><content type='html'>Hungry and without much food, she needed to hit the shops.&lt;br /&gt;The day grim, but she really wanted pork chops.&lt;br /&gt;She timed her journey and set on her route,&lt;br /&gt;Hoping that her luck would hold out.&lt;br /&gt;She smiled; she was half-way to the store,&lt;br /&gt;When suddenly, it began to pour…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-3723084855221414313?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/3723084855221414313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_17.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3723084855221414313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3723084855221414313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_17.html' title='The Store'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2531340245706973928</id><published>2009-05-16T14:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T05:56:08.523-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Sickness</title><content type='html'>Gerry was hot without a doubt,&lt;br /&gt;He had gotten sick and decided to ‘sweat it out’.&lt;br /&gt;His good friend entered; questioned his plight,&lt;br /&gt;“Gerry, you know I study medicine and that doesn’t work, right?”&lt;br /&gt;Stunned, Gerry looked on in disbelief,&lt;br /&gt;The friend continued, “To think you’ve wasted 4 days chief!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2531340245706973928?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2531340245706973928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2531340245706973928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2531340245706973928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_16.html' title='The Sickness'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2594116383336787530</id><published>2009-05-15T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T08:12:59.581-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Interview</title><content type='html'>Late for interview, Tim was rushed.&lt;br /&gt;Having less than 5 minutes to get there; his soul was crushed.&lt;br /&gt;Not giving up, he expertly navigated his course,&lt;br /&gt;Dashing through the front door with urgent force.&lt;br /&gt;Explaining his situation, the receptionist gave him a funny look.&lt;br /&gt;“Um…your appointment is tomorrow Mr. Cook”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2594116383336787530?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2594116383336787530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/interview.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2594116383336787530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2594116383336787530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/interview.html' title='The Interview'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7233049222616318316</id><published>2009-05-14T13:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T13:29:21.012-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Blouse</title><content type='html'>Andrew and Lydia were eating in a chocolate shop.&lt;br /&gt;Andrew, being himself, kept looking down her top.&lt;br /&gt;“Why do you keep looking down my blouse?” She finally spat.&lt;br /&gt;“Well, what else can I look at?” &lt;br /&gt;“How about my face you tart?” &lt;br /&gt;“Yeah,” Andrew paused. “But that’s not the best part.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7233049222616318316?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7233049222616318316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blouse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7233049222616318316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7233049222616318316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blouse.html' title='The Blouse'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-269015874693389880</id><published>2009-05-13T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T06:43:36.957-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Exam</title><content type='html'>Exam day, he wasn’t in a good mood.&lt;br /&gt;He had barely slept - hadn’t eaten much food.&lt;br /&gt;This was his biggest mark; he needed an ace,&lt;br /&gt;Anything less and his parents would label him a disgrace.&lt;br /&gt;The doors opened, but he felt a sudden intestinal attack…&lt;br /&gt;His uncontrollable diarrhea was back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-269015874693389880?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/269015874693389880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_13.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/269015874693389880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/269015874693389880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_13.html' title='The Exam'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-325880262443406048</id><published>2009-05-12T04:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T05:13:12.646-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Lunch</title><content type='html'>Dr. Feinberg was lecturing on the importance of health,&lt;br /&gt;“A balanced diet can save years and personal wealth.”&lt;br /&gt;The audience applauded as he finished the talk,&lt;br /&gt;But Feinberg was hungry as a hawk.&lt;br /&gt;He debated with his friend about lunch. &lt;br /&gt;They decided on Fatty Joe’s; today was ‘endless hamburger’ brunch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-325880262443406048?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/325880262443406048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/lunch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/325880262443406048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/325880262443406048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/lunch.html' title='The Lunch'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-1718742638109982513</id><published>2009-05-11T12:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T04:48:53.746-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Project</title><content type='html'>David spotted Ryan; sat next to him.&lt;br /&gt;Today, Ryan finished an 8 month project but seemed grim.&lt;br /&gt;“How’s it going? Hand it in?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah…I did.” Ryan sadly rubbed his chin.&lt;br /&gt;“Huh? Shouldn’t you be happy? Sing a song?”&lt;br /&gt;“I looked it over after the deadline… the title was spelled wrong.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-1718742638109982513?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/1718742638109982513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1718742638109982513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1718742638109982513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_11.html' title='The Project'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5520404264952294338</id><published>2009-05-10T03:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T04:15:54.678-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Table</title><content type='html'>During the home-cooked date, Katie was in the mood.&lt;br /&gt;Not waiting anymore, she cleared the table of food.&lt;br /&gt;She jumped on…it waned - falling to the floor.&lt;br /&gt;In agony, she scoured the information drawer.&lt;br /&gt;‘Maximum weight should not exceed 85 kg limit.’&lt;br /&gt;“Great, I’m not getting laid and I’m unfit!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5520404264952294338?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5520404264952294338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/table.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5520404264952294338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5520404264952294338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/table.html' title='The Table'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-467271231786438880</id><published>2009-05-09T10:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T03:45:47.959-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Birth</title><content type='html'>Today, the birth-day of his newest child.&lt;br /&gt;Being prepared, he felt mild.&lt;br /&gt;Already having five sons, he placed a bet at his local store.&lt;br /&gt;Hell, they could always use some more.&lt;br /&gt;The head appeared - it was a boy!&lt;br /&gt;But as the rest emerged, his faced was sucked for joy…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-467271231786438880?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/467271231786438880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_09.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/467271231786438880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/467271231786438880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_09.html' title='The Birth'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7963788164249805535</id><published>2009-05-08T04:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T04:21:56.801-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Debate</title><content type='html'>Stopping by the burger joint, &lt;br /&gt;Dale, feeling concerned, set off to make a point.&lt;br /&gt;“Peter, the doctor told you you’re at high chance for stroke, right?”&lt;br /&gt;“High chance doesn’t equal certain, alright?”&lt;br /&gt;“Using that logic, why bother buying lottery tickets, Mr. Unique?”&lt;br /&gt;“Because, you never know. Could be my week!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7963788164249805535?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7963788164249805535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_08.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7963788164249805535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7963788164249805535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_08.html' title='The Debate'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7635694855880354992</id><published>2009-05-07T13:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T04:01:18.186-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Pamphlet</title><content type='html'>Shopping downtown, he was bored.&lt;br /&gt;He spotted a congregation that he worked toward.&lt;br /&gt;Seeing him, they surrounded; handing him their pamphlet.&lt;br /&gt;He examined. They wandered off – leaving him nothing to fret.&lt;br /&gt;Shrugging, he began reading with a slight yawn. &lt;br /&gt;“By the time you read this, your wallet will be gone.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7635694855880354992?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7635694855880354992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_07.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7635694855880354992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7635694855880354992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_07.html' title='The Pamphlet'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-358326968444429062</id><published>2009-05-06T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T13:04:12.879-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Essay</title><content type='html'>Dillon awakened with a sleepy groan.&lt;br /&gt;He pressed ‘speaker’ on the tone. &lt;br /&gt;“Dillon, Matt calling. How’s the essay; nice and fine?”&lt;br /&gt;“Haven’t started. Got until the 7th of August 2009!”&lt;br /&gt;“Dude, it’s due tomorrow – The 8th of July. Get a clue!”&lt;br /&gt;“Shit…you Europeans put day before the month don’t you?”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-358326968444429062?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/358326968444429062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/essay.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/358326968444429062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/358326968444429062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/essay.html' title='The Essay'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-8295781003996743</id><published>2009-05-05T12:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T08:10:05.803-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Tea</title><content type='html'>A slip in the mail meant one thing.&lt;br /&gt;Her package had arrived giving her a slight ting.&lt;br /&gt;Ripping it open, she peeked inside; her exotic tea!&lt;br /&gt;Making herself a cup; licking her lips with glee.&lt;br /&gt;Inhaling the drink which she would forever savour…&lt;br /&gt;Turns out, they’d delivered the wrong flavour.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-8295781003996743?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/8295781003996743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_05.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8295781003996743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8295781003996743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_05.html' title='The Tea'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-1445648370920560938</id><published>2009-05-04T03:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T16:00:17.218-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Athlete</title><content type='html'>Brandon was a famous athlete,&lt;br /&gt;Born a natural, no one else could compete.&lt;br /&gt;Being interviewed filled him with glee,&lt;br /&gt;“Winning is the greatest thing in my life!” He yelled on TV.&lt;br /&gt;Returning home, he could tell he had upset his wife.&lt;br /&gt;“Suzie, relax. You’re the second greatest thing in life.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-1445648370920560938?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/1445648370920560938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_04.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1445648370920560938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1445648370920560938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_04.html' title='The Athlete'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-3223580180615726278</id><published>2009-05-03T15:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T03:37:02.058-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Memory</title><content type='html'>The shower felt nice; water was warm.&lt;br /&gt;He could hear rain outside; what a storm!&lt;br /&gt;All dry, he checked his email and phone.&lt;br /&gt;No messages, no calls; he felt a bit alone.&lt;br /&gt;Then, detecting a great stench without even looking,&lt;br /&gt;He suddenly remembered… this whole time he had been cooking!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-3223580180615726278?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/3223580180615726278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_03.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3223580180615726278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3223580180615726278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_03.html' title='The Memory'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7008274442768665862</id><published>2009-05-02T09:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T03:38:04.408-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Text</title><content type='html'>Feeling frisky, he got out his cell.&lt;br /&gt;Quickly writing a text to his girlfriend Belle.&lt;br /&gt;“Come over…we’ll do it in my parents’ bed.”&lt;br /&gt;Upon sending it his heart filled with dread.&lt;br /&gt;Scrolling through ‘recent numbers’, he face-slapped his palm.&lt;br /&gt;In his hast, he had accidentally sent it to his mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7008274442768665862?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7008274442768665862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_02.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7008274442768665862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7008274442768665862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_02.html' title='The Text'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-6458557897837250432</id><published>2009-05-01T10:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T09:22:36.127-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Dissertation</title><content type='html'>The deadline was in ten,&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy had struggled all night to finish his dissertation.&lt;br /&gt;He saved his final copy and began to sprint,&lt;br /&gt;Arriving at his last obstacle, he desperately hit ‘Print’.&lt;br /&gt;The machine buzzed alive, but suddenly began to taper… &lt;br /&gt;Jeremy bent over; the printer flashed, “Out of paper.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-6458557897837250432?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/6458557897837250432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6458557897837250432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6458557897837250432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title='The Dissertation'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5035050642652973427</id><published>2009-04-30T16:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T03:29:38.203-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Cell</title><content type='html'>Lisa was sitting in her cell,&lt;br /&gt;She’d committed assault yesterday; it had been hell.&lt;br /&gt;Her cellmate faced her , “What you in for?”&lt;br /&gt;Lisa responded, “I punched my boyfriend…broke his nose in four.”&lt;br /&gt;The cellmate laughed, “Why did you do that?”&lt;br /&gt;“Because”, Lisa said. “He said I was too fat.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5035050642652973427?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5035050642652973427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_30.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5035050642652973427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5035050642652973427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_30.html' title='The Cell'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-1621547713354257750</id><published>2009-04-29T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T12:11:50.956-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Place</title><content type='html'>Working unabated, he needed food,&lt;br /&gt;He was in a grumpy mood.&lt;br /&gt;Leaving home, his body felt gritty.&lt;br /&gt;He ran to his favorite fast food place; Chicken City.&lt;br /&gt;Arriving at the door, he could have killed someone right then,&lt;br /&gt;A sign on the door read, “Sorry, we’re all out of chicken.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-1621547713354257750?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/1621547713354257750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/disappointment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1621547713354257750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1621547713354257750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/disappointment.html' title='The Place'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-8621520548066020033</id><published>2009-04-28T09:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T09:13:51.868-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Maid</title><content type='html'>He had been working all night,&lt;br /&gt;His laptop still shown bright.&lt;br /&gt;The curtains closed, he could feel his body wane.&lt;br /&gt;Hopping into bed, he smiled. He needed to recharge his brain.&lt;br /&gt;He had just closed his eyes when he heard a faint knock.&lt;br /&gt;“Morning house cleaning sir, it’s 9 o’clock!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-8621520548066020033?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/8621520548066020033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/maid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8621520548066020033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8621520548066020033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/maid.html' title='The Maid'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2237430153964224271</id><published>2009-04-27T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T12:19:33.676-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Excuse</title><content type='html'>Ron swallowed, “I need more time, or I can kiss graduating goodbye.”&lt;br /&gt;“Fine.” The teacher remarked. “But why?”&lt;br /&gt;Ron paused. “ I was lazy…”&lt;br /&gt;“Hand it in Monday. Fresh and daisy.”&lt;br /&gt;“Thanks,” Ron started, “But why help me with such an excuse?”&lt;br /&gt;“Because tomorrow I’m getting drunk and letting loose.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2237430153964224271?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2237430153964224271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/excuse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2237430153964224271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2237430153964224271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/excuse.html' title='The Excuse'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-3192132795606963865</id><published>2009-04-26T10:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T10:34:22.231-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Result</title><content type='html'>Doc frowned, “I’m sorry, you have an STD.”&lt;br /&gt;Jake looked horrified, but the doctor laughed slapping his knee.&lt;br /&gt;“Kidding son, test came out fine.” &lt;br /&gt;“STDs are dangerous though, so take some condoms of mine.”&lt;br /&gt;Upon leaving Jake pulled the Doctor aside,&lt;br /&gt;“Next time, don’t do that when my mom’s inside!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-3192132795606963865?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/3192132795606963865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/result.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3192132795606963865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3192132795606963865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/result.html' title='The Result'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-6157120089859724095</id><published>2009-04-25T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T10:35:14.808-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Farm</title><content type='html'>“You’re here.” The farmer said kindly.&lt;br /&gt;Joe looked inside, desperately wanting to say ‘no’.&lt;br /&gt;“Anywhere else I can sleep?” Joe asked. He wasn’t having fun.&lt;br /&gt;“Son, it’s a Barn. Oh, tip: Don’t sleep next to the big one.”&lt;br /&gt;Joe looked worried, “Why's that?”&lt;br /&gt;The farmer made a rolling gesture...“Splat!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-6157120089859724095?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/6157120089859724095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/farm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6157120089859724095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6157120089859724095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/farm.html' title='The Farm'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2434243391339621467</id><published>2009-04-24T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T01:16:47.067-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Juice</title><content type='html'>Early morning in July he needed food.&lt;br /&gt;Trolling the kitchen without his glasses, feeling quite nude. &lt;br /&gt;He saw some juice; downed it in one score.&lt;br /&gt;Stomach kicking, he spat it on the floor. &lt;br /&gt;Astonished, he squinted at the side of the carton and felt prune.&lt;br /&gt;It said, ‘best before mid-June.’&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2434243391339621467?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2434243391339621467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/juice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2434243391339621467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2434243391339621467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/juice.html' title='The Juice'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-6157387608986737502</id><published>2009-04-23T06:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T09:37:59.135-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Boast</title><content type='html'>Finished lectures, Darrell and Harry began home,&lt;br /&gt;Outside the library they paused to roam.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, a few ducks appeared and began to frolic.&lt;br /&gt;Darrell laughed, “Looks like me in bed. I’m psychotic!”&lt;br /&gt;Harry moved closer; squinted in the sun.&lt;br /&gt;“Darrell…I think the male duck is actually raping the other one.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-6157387608986737502?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/6157387608986737502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_23.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6157387608986737502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6157387608986737502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_23.html' title='The Boast'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-28984977243534437</id><published>2009-04-22T03:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T03:31:43.800-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Lid</title><content type='html'>Awake from a night out, needing to clear his head.&lt;br /&gt;He had mistakenly drunk too much water before bed. &lt;br /&gt;Now he really needed to go,&lt;br /&gt;He rushed in, eyes asleep, unzipped, and let flow.&lt;br /&gt;Hearing an unfamiliar noise, he opened his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;The lid was closed to his disgruntled surprise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-28984977243534437?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/28984977243534437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/lid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/28984977243534437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/28984977243534437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/lid.html' title='The Lid'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2017649191904969197</id><published>2009-04-21T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T10:24:05.354-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Order</title><content type='html'>Completely famished, he couldn’t decide what to eat.&lt;br /&gt;Pondering openly, “Tuna or steak? Fish or meat?”&lt;br /&gt;His friend looked unamused, “Just pick…”&lt;br /&gt;He closed his eyes and pointed, hoping to be quick.&lt;br /&gt;When it came he bit into his glimmering steak. &lt;br /&gt;He sighed…“I should have just gone with the cake.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2017649191904969197?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2017649191904969197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/order.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2017649191904969197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2017649191904969197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/order.html' title='The Order'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7959454373364076965</id><published>2009-04-20T09:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T03:00:55.333-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Brat</title><content type='html'>Carl invited over his good mate.&lt;br /&gt;They played ‘Questions’, some offering horrid debate.&lt;br /&gt;His friend asked “Would you rather pee on your teacher or dad?”&lt;br /&gt;Carl pondered, knowing his parents hardly disturbed his pad.&lt;br /&gt;“My father. Him and his stupid slacks.”&lt;br /&gt;“Carl?” He turned to see dad standing with snacks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7959454373364076965?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7959454373364076965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_20.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7959454373364076965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7959454373364076965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_20.html' title='The Brat'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5606891218879620943</id><published>2009-04-19T10:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T02:51:23.378-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Drink</title><content type='html'>They played an intense drinking game known as ‘Kings’,&lt;br /&gt;The loser having to down a concoction of various grotesque things.&lt;br /&gt;Chuck picked the last numbered card; began to celebrate.&lt;br /&gt;“Ha, a six! I get to nominate!”&lt;br /&gt;Fred looked at the greenish-brown guck. &lt;br /&gt;“Nope,” Fred smiled. “That’s a nine. Sorry Chuck!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5606891218879620943?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5606891218879620943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5606891218879620943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5606891218879620943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_19.html' title='The Drink'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-3726465606172824010</id><published>2009-04-18T22:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T00:32:22.133-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Marathon</title><content type='html'>Late for a meeting, he hated Monday.&lt;br /&gt;His car stopped by police, “Sorry sir, marathon’s on today.”&lt;br /&gt;Astonished, he looked at his passenger,&lt;br /&gt;A female associate; he had a thing for her.&lt;br /&gt;“So, what now?” He said with no inkling of fun.&lt;br /&gt;“Well,” she said cheerfully. “How about a run?”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-3726465606172824010?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/3726465606172824010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_18.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3726465606172824010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3726465606172824010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_18.html' title='The Marathon'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2190408564319116693</id><published>2009-04-17T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T01:01:25.060-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The File</title><content type='html'>Downloading a single-huge file, he was a geek,&lt;br /&gt;His computer had been running for a week.&lt;br /&gt;B-rated sci-fi films were soon his.&lt;br /&gt;Such satisfaction he knew only through the school quiz.&lt;br /&gt;He danced merrily, “99%, here we go!”&lt;br /&gt;Mother walked in; “Honey, when you prance around naked, close your window.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2190408564319116693?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2190408564319116693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_17.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2190408564319116693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2190408564319116693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_17.html' title='The File'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5726995521516202492</id><published>2009-04-16T14:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T00:48:24.907-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Luggage</title><content type='html'>Landing in Austria, twelve hour flight.&lt;br /&gt;Waiting 50 minutes, his luggage no where in sight.&lt;br /&gt;Heading to assistance, he was less than happy.&lt;br /&gt;“Where the hell is my luggage?” He spat, snappy.&lt;br /&gt;She quickly typed away, her face became embarrassingly red. &lt;br /&gt;“Sorry sir... your luggage was sent to Australia instead.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5726995521516202492?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5726995521516202492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5726995521516202492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5726995521516202492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_16.html' title='The Luggage'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5293436397490676726</id><published>2009-04-15T17:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T06:47:19.903-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Omelet</title><content type='html'>Gerald had had his physics class today,&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, due, his ‘gravitational’ essay.&lt;br /&gt;Coming home, soon to start, but needed to eat.&lt;br /&gt;He would make an omelet with cheese and meat.&lt;br /&gt;Accidentally dropping an egg; it splattered everywhere in mucks.&lt;br /&gt;“I know how I’ll start my essay” he thought. “Gravity sucks.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5293436397490676726?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5293436397490676726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_15.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5293436397490676726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5293436397490676726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_15.html' title='The Omelet'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5287925136978560437</id><published>2009-04-14T18:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T18:30:22.473-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Kiss</title><content type='html'>His girlfriend kissed him gently,&lt;br /&gt;His body filled with overwhelming glee.&lt;br /&gt;Rolling to her side he said “Let me give you a kiss.”&lt;br /&gt;Excited; she rarely ever woke him up like this.&lt;br /&gt;Dreamily opening his eyes, smiling with grace…&lt;br /&gt;Soon to realize, it was just their cat licking his face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5287925136978560437?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5287925136978560437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_14.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5287925136978560437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5287925136978560437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_14.html' title='The Kiss'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7822339940995185853</id><published>2009-04-13T18:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T07:25:28.765-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Toothbrush</title><content type='html'>In his parent’s vacation home,&lt;br /&gt;Daniel found a cute blue toothbrush and nice comb. &lt;br /&gt;From downstairs, he heard his cat shout.&lt;br /&gt;It was vet day and the cat didn’t like going out. &lt;br /&gt;As Daniel cleaned himself, his mom did yell:&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t use Mitten’s blue toothbrush, your teeth’ll go to hell!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7822339940995185853?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7822339940995185853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_13.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7822339940995185853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7822339940995185853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_13.html' title='The Toothbrush'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-4836153905508519873</id><published>2009-04-12T18:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T03:13:01.512-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Reply</title><content type='html'>Joking online was his personal bliss.&lt;br /&gt;Posting his friend Chris dirty messages about his sis.&lt;br /&gt;Chris replied that his mother read one,&lt;br /&gt;And feared it was no longer fun.&lt;br /&gt;Later, Chris’ mom replied; which did not ease his mind.&lt;br /&gt;“U know, my daughters unripe… but I’m a well aged find ;)”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-4836153905508519873?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/4836153905508519873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_12.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4836153905508519873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4836153905508519873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_12.html' title='The Reply'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2587141638897008074</id><published>2009-04-11T19:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T00:01:30.482-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Portion</title><content type='html'>Darrell, 33, needed ice cream from the parlor.&lt;br /&gt;Dashing in, ordering some Chocolate-Marbler.&lt;br /&gt;Nearby, a girl just received her flavored-snow,&lt;br /&gt;Looking over, he gasped and needed to know: &lt;br /&gt;“Pardon, you’re about 10 and your portion is twice mine?!” &lt;br /&gt;She chuckled “Yeah…makes you look like a wimp. Maybe it’s a sign?”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2587141638897008074?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2587141638897008074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2587141638897008074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2587141638897008074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_11.html' title='The Portion'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2167333690173160645</id><published>2009-04-10T16:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T17:40:52.602-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Coffee</title><content type='html'>Early morning, he needed a quick start.&lt;br /&gt;Something to animate his brain and heart.&lt;br /&gt;A dose of Espresso was just the perk,&lt;br /&gt;He’d finish later on his way to work.&lt;br /&gt;Drink in hand; he rushed for the door.&lt;br /&gt;Forgetting it opened inwards, he smashed, spilling coffee all over the floor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2167333690173160645?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2167333690173160645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_10.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2167333690173160645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2167333690173160645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_10.html' title='The Coffee'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-3441504311388801888</id><published>2009-04-09T19:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T21:12:00.957-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Pillow</title><content type='html'>Vacationing with friends, he came home drunk.&lt;br /&gt;They left when he became a snobby punk.&lt;br /&gt;Hating his drunken state, all he wanted was sleep,&lt;br /&gt;So exhausted, he wouldn’t have to count sheep.&lt;br /&gt;As he lay down, he felt a liquid billow,&lt;br /&gt;Someone had placed a massive water-balloon under his pillow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-3441504311388801888?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/3441504311388801888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_09.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3441504311388801888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3441504311388801888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_09.html' title='The Pillow'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-3939693944407096086</id><published>2009-04-08T20:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T05:14:22.322-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Soup</title><content type='html'>Smiling as he smelt her perfume,&lt;br /&gt;Dinner with the girlfriend, returning from the restroom.&lt;br /&gt;Grabbing his throat when sipping soup; it was off!&lt;br /&gt;10x spicier than normal; he started to cough. &lt;br /&gt;Looking up, he turned red…&lt;br /&gt;“Like it hot? Or didn’t you scream that to my best friend in bed?”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-3939693944407096086?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/3939693944407096086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_08.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3939693944407096086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3939693944407096086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_08.html' title='The Soup'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5928748051017800860</id><published>2009-04-07T16:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T17:44:39.206-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Run</title><content type='html'>One crisp morning he went for a run.&lt;br /&gt;He liked the glimmer of a rising sun.&lt;br /&gt;Times were tough and he needed the air.&lt;br /&gt;Exercise helped him through despair.&lt;br /&gt;Running through a field, looking down, he uttered a harsh remark. &lt;br /&gt;He had forgotten he was running through a dog park.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5928748051017800860?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5928748051017800860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5928748051017800860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5928748051017800860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post.html' title='The Run'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7685823199291529562</id><published>2009-04-06T03:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T04:11:14.991-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Massage</title><content type='html'>In Japan he loved experiencing different lives,&lt;br /&gt;Panda-Drink, Underwear-Vendors and Inflatable-Wives.&lt;br /&gt;At the massage parlor; hoping for a ‘special’ one.&lt;br /&gt;Walking in naked, holding cash, pointing to his gun.&lt;br /&gt;She slapped him, walked out. He sighed, “Just my luck,&lt;br /&gt;I fly 5000 miles and I can’t even pay to fu...”.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7685823199291529562?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7685823199291529562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/massage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7685823199291529562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7685823199291529562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/massage.html' title='The Massage'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-4446661859014454211</id><published>2009-04-05T05:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T05:57:12.859-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Take-off</title><content type='html'>On a long flight, he couldn’t sit alone,&lt;br /&gt;His companions always fat, ugly, or thick as bone.&lt;br /&gt;Then she sat down; beautiful, marvelous, this was his shot!&lt;br /&gt;“Hello,” he flirted, “Aren’t we looking hot?”&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly a tapping, an old man looking mean.&lt;br /&gt;“Excuse me, that’s my daughter. She’s only fourteen.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-4446661859014454211?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/4446661859014454211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/take-off.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4446661859014454211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4446661859014454211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/take-off.html' title='The Take-off'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5223050471725507</id><published>2009-04-04T00:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T00:11:34.272-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Dessert</title><content type='html'>Today the couple was out for fun.&lt;br /&gt;Both wanted ice cream to drown out the sun.&lt;br /&gt;He bought cones with flavors, sauces and more,&lt;br /&gt;She took one bite and spat it on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;He look surprised, “What’s up dear?”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m allergic to nuts, idiot! We’ve dated for a year!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5223050471725507?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5223050471725507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/dessert_04.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5223050471725507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5223050471725507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/dessert_04.html' title='The Dessert'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-1867328591824666043</id><published>2009-04-03T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T06:32:57.939-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Pass</title><content type='html'>He was supposed to pay, but never did,&lt;br /&gt;Traveling on public as an American kid. &lt;br /&gt;Smiling as he passed an inspector in Berlin,&lt;br /&gt;“Kann ich dein Pass sehen?” She spat in German. &lt;br /&gt;“I’m sorry.” He shrugged. “Only English…not from here.” &lt;br /&gt;She smiled back. “That’s OK. I speak English too dear.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-1867328591824666043?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/1867328591824666043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/pass.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1867328591824666043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1867328591824666043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/pass.html' title='The Pass'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-8464371575755260878</id><published>2009-04-02T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T14:11:24.971-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Present</title><content type='html'>Little Jimmy awakened early on Christmas day,&lt;br /&gt;He couldn’t risk any more delay!&lt;br /&gt;A giant box, he ripped apart.&lt;br /&gt;His parents smiling as the newborn puppy jumped on him like a dart.&lt;br /&gt;“Well Jimmy, whaddya think? Look, he’s so cute and fat.”&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy turned and frowned, “I wanted a cat.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-8464371575755260878?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/8464371575755260878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/present.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8464371575755260878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8464371575755260878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/present.html' title='The Present'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-8930668458892044994</id><published>2009-04-01T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T14:05:13.641-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Prank</title><content type='html'>Rick wanted to prank his girlfriend Jess.&lt;br /&gt;Called her saying, “Babes, I have to confess.”&lt;br /&gt;“What?” She inquired. “How bad can it be?”&lt;br /&gt;He continued, “I’ve slept with Marie…”&lt;br /&gt;He waited, no scream. Was he easy to see through?&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll confess...” she replied. “I’ve slept with your best friend too.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-8930668458892044994?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/8930668458892044994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/prank.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8930668458892044994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8930668458892044994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/04/prank.html' title='The Prank'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5212987687993386434</id><published>2009-03-31T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T14:00:29.921-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Toilet</title><content type='html'>A two hour trip with no bathroom break,&lt;br /&gt;Holding it in had been a bad mistake.&lt;br /&gt;Arriving home, his friend beat him inside.&lt;br /&gt;He waited, crouching; he could have cried.&lt;br /&gt;Finally done, he threw his mate aside cursing his name.&lt;br /&gt;Upon sitting down he groaned… his friend had poor aim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5212987687993386434?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5212987687993386434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/toilet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5212987687993386434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5212987687993386434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/toilet.html' title='The Toilet'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-2090543427221965233</id><published>2009-03-30T14:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T15:02:47.870-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Dentist</title><content type='html'>She waited; the dentist’s chair beneath.&lt;br /&gt;She had come to have him clean her teeth.&lt;br /&gt;Finished, he said; “Looks good dear, just one last thing.”&lt;br /&gt;She shuttered in fear, “Will it sting?”&lt;br /&gt;“Heavens no, you’ll feel nothing. Just lay still.”&lt;br /&gt;Repositioning herself, her smiled suddenly vanished… out came the drill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-2090543427221965233?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/2090543427221965233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/dentist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2090543427221965233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/2090543427221965233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/dentist.html' title='The Dentist'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-8654702848898699378</id><published>2009-03-29T15:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T16:08:11.244-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Surgery</title><content type='html'>(Author’s Note: Unfortunately, I experienced technical difficulties this weekend, so to make up for it, here are three in a row!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was oozy, just waking up.&lt;br /&gt;The doctor stood smiling, “Sup?”&lt;br /&gt;“Doctor?” She muttered. “Is everything alright?” &lt;br /&gt;“Perfect!” He retorted. “You’re an operational delight!” &lt;br /&gt;“Your appendix is gone and you should be fine before the end of your vacation.”&lt;br /&gt;She looked at him, “But sir… I’m here for breast augmentation.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-8654702848898699378?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/8654702848898699378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/surgery.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8654702848898699378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8654702848898699378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/surgery.html' title='The Surgery'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-4308202932071542010</id><published>2009-03-29T15:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T15:46:48.640-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Ride</title><content type='html'>Hung-over, he went outside for air.&lt;br /&gt;Needing a ride home; his friend lived miles from anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;Looking across the road he saw a taxi.&lt;br /&gt;Realizing the opportunity, he jumped in to flee.&lt;br /&gt;Upon arrival, cash was due and he began to fret…&lt;br /&gt;He discovered he had left behind his wallet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-4308202932071542010?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/4308202932071542010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/ride.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4308202932071542010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4308202932071542010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/ride.html' title='The Ride'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7513169898657715150</id><published>2009-03-29T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T15:12:51.025-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Song</title><content type='html'>Karaoke night; his friend’s birthday.&lt;br /&gt;Signing himself up for a song, entering the fray.&lt;br /&gt;Music blasted, he sang into the skies.&lt;br /&gt;The screen recorded his effort as he closed his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;He finished, barely seeing through the dim light. &lt;br /&gt;The audience erupted in laughter…he hadn’t gotten a single note right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7513169898657715150?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7513169898657715150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/song.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7513169898657715150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7513169898657715150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/song.html' title='The Song'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5235011953921667270</id><published>2009-03-26T16:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T16:24:47.818-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Error</title><content type='html'>Having waited for almost two years,&lt;br /&gt;Through breakups, makeups and tears,&lt;br /&gt;She finally agreed, but he would need protection;&lt;br /&gt;She was leaving for a few months pursuing a new career direction.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight he was finally gonna get some.&lt;br /&gt;But during the day’s excitement, he had forgotten to buy a condom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5235011953921667270?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5235011953921667270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/error.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5235011953921667270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5235011953921667270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/error.html' title='The Error'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-4249301913407969478</id><published>2009-03-25T03:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T03:51:01.880-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Task</title><content type='html'>He had gotten a haircut; washed his suit.&lt;br /&gt;He smelt nice, felt great and looked particularly cute.&lt;br /&gt;Checking everything fit, he smiled in the mirror,&lt;br /&gt;And spin around just to make sure. &lt;br /&gt;He answered his phone heading out the door. &lt;br /&gt;It was his friend, “Listen…no one is going out anymore.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-4249301913407969478?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/4249301913407969478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/task.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4249301913407969478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4249301913407969478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/task.html' title='The Task'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-6049771727059516079</id><published>2009-03-24T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T08:19:35.531-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Haircut</title><content type='html'>“What you want?” Said barber Ned. &lt;br /&gt;Jim answered, “A slight trim all ‘round my head.”&lt;br /&gt;His eyes closed, Jim thought of today,&lt;br /&gt;As Ned quickly snipped away.&lt;br /&gt;As the cutting subsided, Jim looked, his face suddenly full of grim.&lt;br /&gt;Ned looked back, “What? That’s 2 cm short…You did said trim.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-6049771727059516079?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/6049771727059516079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/haircut.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6049771727059516079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6049771727059516079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/haircut.html' title='The Haircut'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-4364088797482685157</id><published>2009-03-23T01:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T01:06:53.738-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Mistake</title><content type='html'>Unamused, he played with his food.&lt;br /&gt;His date wasn’t in a pleasant mood.&lt;br /&gt;Beginning to think of his ketchup as blood,&lt;br /&gt;Covering his wrist, faking injury; he eventually licked up the spud. &lt;br /&gt;Wincing, letting out a disgruntled moan…&lt;br /&gt;He realized he licked the spot where he sprayed all his cologne.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-4364088797482685157?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/4364088797482685157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/mistake.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4364088797482685157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4364088797482685157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/mistake.html' title='The Mistake'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-6863599904815498480</id><published>2009-03-22T04:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T04:23:14.907-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Hand</title><content type='html'>Playing ‘poker’, he knew he would win.&lt;br /&gt;Thinking how best to capitalize, he rubbed his chin.&lt;br /&gt;“All in” he said, straining his mind.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, his competitor showed four-of-a-kind. &lt;br /&gt;He was a gracious loser; fair was fair.&lt;br /&gt;Besides, the only piece of clothing he had left to remove was his underwear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-6863599904815498480?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/6863599904815498480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/hand.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6863599904815498480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/6863599904815498480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/hand.html' title='The Hand'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-265726838829079056</id><published>2009-03-21T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T14:12:41.715-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Message</title><content type='html'>He met her yesterday in a saloon,&lt;br /&gt;She said, “I love naughty messages, send one soon.”&lt;br /&gt;Today pondering what he would type,&lt;br /&gt;Sending, “I like my rumps spicy and ripe...”&lt;br /&gt;Phone buzzing, he was in an excited mood,&lt;br /&gt;Until he read, “Sir, we need an address to deliver the food.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-265726838829079056?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/265726838829079056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/message.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/265726838829079056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/265726838829079056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/message.html' title='The Message'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-5880070871562636044</id><published>2009-03-20T11:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T06:28:55.389-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Skirt</title><content type='html'>Spring was here and the sun was out!&lt;br /&gt;She had waited through the cold and doubt.&lt;br /&gt;Finally skirt weather; she was ecstatic,&lt;br /&gt;And joined her friends by the lake looking absolutely fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;She lived far away, but didn’t mind the trip, &lt;br /&gt;Until upon sitting down she heard a slight rip...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-5880070871562636044?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/5880070871562636044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/skirt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5880070871562636044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/5880070871562636044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/skirt.html' title='The Skirt'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-4121530076828194082</id><published>2009-03-19T16:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T16:42:30.578-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Cash</title><content type='html'>The queue was about 40 people long.&lt;br /&gt;The store played a very awful song.&lt;br /&gt;His wallet home, he guessed the amount he would need.&lt;br /&gt;Carrying, in hand, the cash for this important deed.&lt;br /&gt;Checking out, the worker said, “£27.50 for this stuff.” &lt;br /&gt;He looked at his hand…he didn’t have enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-4121530076828194082?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/4121530076828194082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/cash.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4121530076828194082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4121530076828194082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/cash.html' title='The Cash'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-9153504531275757637</id><published>2009-03-18T02:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T03:18:13.825-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Plate</title><content type='html'>Late-night, starving, he couldn’t wait to get home.&lt;br /&gt;They had prepared his favorite; Steak from Rome!&lt;br /&gt;His family was done, leaving his share.&lt;br /&gt;This made him happy, he could eat in his underwear.&lt;br /&gt;Sitting down, beaming; this was going to be great!&lt;br /&gt;He noticed a pubic hair on his plate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-9153504531275757637?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/9153504531275757637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/plate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/9153504531275757637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/9153504531275757637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/plate.html' title='The Plate'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-1360872922809746305</id><published>2009-03-17T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T11:01:42.427-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Carnival</title><content type='html'>They were at the carnival stall; &lt;br /&gt;Jenny trying to win, down to her last ball. &lt;br /&gt;Owner, laughing, said, “Atleast hit something!”&lt;br /&gt;Angry, she wound up and unleashed her final swing... &lt;br /&gt;It flew crazily; landed right in the face of the owner.&lt;br /&gt;David turned, Jenny smiled. He really did love her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-1360872922809746305?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/1360872922809746305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/carnival.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1360872922809746305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1360872922809746305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/carnival.html' title='The Carnival'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-8021777683415417766</id><published>2009-03-16T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T12:26:58.272-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Attempt</title><content type='html'>Exiting the bathroom, he saw a beautiful chick.&lt;br /&gt;And today had finished reading, “Being ultra-slick”.&lt;br /&gt;Confident, he walked over and said, “Hey, wanna drink?”&lt;br /&gt;She turned and smiled, giving a tiny wink.&lt;br /&gt;Then, standing up and looking him dead in the eye, &lt;br /&gt;She said, “Next time, zip up your fly.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-8021777683415417766?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/8021777683415417766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/attempt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8021777683415417766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/8021777683415417766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/attempt.html' title='The Attempt'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-4000777408537389217</id><published>2009-03-15T08:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T08:03:38.081-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Race</title><content type='html'>He had trained for the marathon months on end,&lt;br /&gt;He would win; his honor he would defend. &lt;br /&gt;Gun firing, he sprinted to get a head start,&lt;br /&gt;Feeling the burn in his heart.&lt;br /&gt;The crowd screamed; today would be his day!&lt;br /&gt;Till he heard them shout, “You’re going the wrong way!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-4000777408537389217?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/4000777408537389217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/race.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4000777408537389217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/4000777408537389217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/race.html' title='The Race'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-335229792194060743</id><published>2009-03-14T04:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T04:15:38.349-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Girl</title><content type='html'>With sleep on his face, he walked up to campus,&lt;br /&gt;It was early morning, and he had missed the school bus.&lt;br /&gt;Then, quite suddenly, he saw a beautiful girl,&lt;br /&gt;Stunningly fit, magnificent face, radiant as a pearl.&lt;br /&gt;He began to imagine what was underneath,&lt;br /&gt;Till she smiled…showing just seven teeth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-335229792194060743?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/335229792194060743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/335229792194060743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/335229792194060743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/girl.html' title='The Girl'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-1302036973220036909</id><published>2009-03-13T04:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T04:34:28.400-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Game</title><content type='html'>Seeing a clear chance, he went for the win,&lt;br /&gt;Pumping his fist with a satisfying grin.&lt;br /&gt;It felt so good, since she usually won,&lt;br /&gt;Soon realizing, however, it would be only short-lived fun.&lt;br /&gt;He looked at her and let out a dissatisfying groan,&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, he knew, he’d be sleeping alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-1302036973220036909?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/1302036973220036909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/game.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1302036973220036909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/1302036973220036909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/game.html' title='The Game'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-723112858805373375</id><published>2009-03-12T04:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T04:35:26.472-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Release</title><content type='html'>Home from a crazy night with wine 3 dollars cheap,&lt;br /&gt;He was ready to drift off to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Lying on his bed, quite secure,&lt;br /&gt;Something caught his attention; his bladder. &lt;br /&gt;Weighting up his options: would he be civil or release where he lay?&lt;br /&gt;Finally deciding ‘heck, tomorrow’s laundry day anyway.’&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-723112858805373375?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/723112858805373375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/release.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/723112858805373375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/723112858805373375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/release.html' title='The Release'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-3317915187868876953</id><published>2009-03-11T08:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T08:46:23.366-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Gym</title><content type='html'>New to the gym, wanting to prove something.&lt;br /&gt;He hated being mocked; wanting to be king.&lt;br /&gt;Walking past men who looked rough.&lt;br /&gt;He laid on the bench thinking, ‘let’s see who’s tough.’ &lt;br /&gt;Lifting the bar he admired his own brawn,&lt;br /&gt;When he turned and looked. There wasn’t any weight on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-3317915187868876953?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/3317915187868876953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/gym.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3317915187868876953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/3317915187868876953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/gym.html' title='The Gym'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008123779483148653.post-7243396013714172962</id><published>2009-03-10T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T04:06:31.550-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ryan Brammen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='50 Word Stories'/><title type='text'>The Computer</title><content type='html'>The deadline approached, she needed to hurry!&lt;br /&gt;Her e-mail malfunctioned; she began to worry.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh-my-god, I don’t know what to do."&lt;br /&gt;She said hitting the computer, still not having a clue.&lt;br /&gt;She then started laughing, becoming less upset;&lt;br /&gt;For upon knocking it aside she realized…it wasn’t connected to the internet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3008123779483148653-7243396013714172962?l=tinytinystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7243396013714172962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/computer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7243396013714172962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3008123779483148653/posts/default/7243396013714172962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tinytinystories.blogspot.com/2009/03/computer.html' title='The Computer'/><author><name>50 word stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13454312579823852226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vp7PpLVTD6U/SakYSYZCiWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EULM6i8Swgk/s1600-R/va-number-50.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
