Whatever happened to TV show theme songs and jingles for products? I can still recall most of the lyrics to Gilligan’s Island and Texaco Gasoline (you can’t trust your car to the man who wears the star).  It gives me an ear worm just thinking about those songs. 

Now, it’s your turn. Give me a few lyrics in the comments for a current TV show or product, such as The Bachelor or Georgie & Mandy’s First Marriage  (no drug ads please).

If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our hostess, whose singing makes goosebumps rise on the back of Godzilla’s neck, is Ethyl Mermaid Wisoff-Fields.  If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.

Thousands of frogs lived in a beautiful pond surrounded by trees. The adults crouched on lily pads feasting on insects while their young took turns hopping over each other’s backs.

Due to a ban on family planning, the population exploded and food-insecurity became an issue . A hateful old frog, renowned for his stubbornness and lack of brain power, conned the majority into believing he had a solution.

“I’ll make the pond great again,” he croaked. He offered a former enemy a thousand healthy young frogs in exchange for fifty mosquitos.

His trade partner opened a restaurant. 

All-you-can-eat frog legs, 200 rubles.

One of my favorite game shows as a kid was Concentration. Contestants had to match squares to reveal a hidden rebus puzzle (pictogram), then solve the puzzle to win the game. According to some historians, pictograms were the earliest form of written communication. Then the Egyptians came along and got all uppity with their hieroglyphics. 

What were some of your favorite game shows?

If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our hostess, who played Shirley Tadpole in short-running TV series, Sea Runt,  is Gertrude Ederle” Wisoff-Fields.  If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.

“Since it’s raining,” teacher said, “we’ll have recess indoors today.”

“Awwrg,” groaned little Johnny. “They don’t call ’em bored games for nothing.”

Teacher shrugged. “Those who prefer, can do arts and crafts.”

“Oh, boy!” Shelley grabbed a purple crayon and began drawing wine glasses.

Johnny selected a brown crayon and created a pictogram of a boy with cloud behind him, an ampersand, and a “Ha, ha” speech ballon.

“What’s that supposed to be?” asked Shelley.

Johnny flashed a mischievous grin. “Didn’t you hear the teacher say we could do farts and laughs?”

There’s a “gentlemen’s club” (titty bar to those of you less refined) in our town called The Peppermint Hippo.  I wonder if the name reflects the physiques of the dancers or the clientele, but I haven’t dared to seek permission from my wife to investigate in person.

 It did remind me of a book premise where a con man opened a club featuring plus-size women, planning to use it as a money laundering operation. Much to his dismay, it became so popular that it defeated his original purpose. I wonder if there’s a market for plus-sized, elderly male dancers? I may have to brush up on my moves.

If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our hostess, who sprinkles radioactive dust from her magic wand is Pixie “The Purple Marionette” Wisoff-Fields.  If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.

It was her third year at Walla Walla Bing Bang when Shelley saw and touched her first invisible object. The theatre arts professor invited a guest speaker, Claude DeKalb, a professional mime, to lecture the class. 

“Close your eyes and imagine a world of infinite possibilities, where anything you can envision becomes real—for the mind must conceive before the eyes can behold.” 

In a Zen-like state of consciousness, Shelley stretched forth her hand and encountered something solid. Hard, yet smooth and cool to the touch. 

She opened her eyes.

“Oh my God!” she whispered reverently. “I can see it!” 

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*the above is a snippet from my unpublished novel, Criminal Mimes.

Recently, I visited a dermatologist for a scab atop my left ear.  He told me it was an age spot—which had to be a lie. At 68, I’m much too young for those.  He took a biopsy of a different spot on my ear which came back as Basal Cell Carcinoma.  The doctor carefully explained that this was in no way related to Oregano Beltoma, or Rudolph Casanova.

He scraped a dime-sized area and the nurse covered it with a 2 ft. square bandage. Thinking I’d advertise like a NASCAR driver, I made a sign saying, “Rent Russell’s Ear.” My new sponsor is a panhandler and now the bandage reads, “Anything helps!” 

If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our hostess, who thinks 3 ft. is the deep end of the pool, is Rubber Duckie Wisoff-Fields.  If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.

At first, I was angry, then embarrassed. 

My lawyer recommended I accept the plea bargain and weekly psychiatric counseling.

Clutching my purple emotional-support crayon, I entered the shrink’s office. 

The doctor greeted me with open arms. He remained silent while I shared my inclination to clip people’s Do-Not-Remove tags and devour their bran cereals when they weren’t home. I related my arrest, booking, and alleged kleptomania. 

You should’ve seen his face when I mentioned the invisible box.

The treatments cost $160 a pop.

For that money, I should get more than a couple of pillow tags and a rag doll.

A few years ago, someone gave me a book entitled, Keep Your Brain Alive. I took this to mean the anonymous donor of this book wanted to preserve my brain in a glass jar for use in a future transplant—ala Dr. Frankenstein. 

The book contains 83 Neurobic Exercises to prevent memory loss and increase mental fitness.  One of which is to brush your teeth with your nondominant hand. I gave it shot. My brain refused to cooperate. Instead of the bush moving up and down & back and forth, my toothbrush remained stationary, and my head bobbed up and down and side-to-side. Evidently, I have an Abby Normal type of brain.

Do you have any brain calisthenics you practice? If so, please list them in the comments.

If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our hostess is Anne Uumellmahaye Wisoff-Fields, whose brain has been pickled-purple by the use of said color.  If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.

My husband, Brad, came home with a tray of small plants. 

“The guy at Lowe’s said they’re practically maintenance free. Just plug ’em in, water, and voilà—instant blooms.” 

He also bought a bag of worm castings—a polite name for worm poo. 

“You don’t expect me to stick my hands in that, do you?” I asked. 

“Try these on.” He handed me a pair of gloves. 

They were floral print with pink rubber palms. I stuck my hand in one and flexed the fingers. Not exactly Boston Strangler quality, but I figured they’d work for a crime against nature.

For Christmas, my daughter bought me a wonderful book entitled, Insults Every Man Should Know. For a man who was once told he was “sharp as a marble,” I’ve found this little tome extremely handy. Here are a few of my favorites: 

“You look great in that Facebook pic. Did you learn Photoshop recently?

“Who farted? Oh wait, that was you talking, wasn’t it?”

“He does the work of three men: Larry, Curly, and Moe.”

If you have a favorite slam you’d like to share, feel free to add it in the comments.

If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our hostess is the quick twitted Muggle-Wumps Wisoff-Fields.. If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.

Copyright – Peter Abbey

Minutes of The Wednesday Afternoon Voyeurs Club – 7 Feb, 2024

The club met in the Two-Way Mirror Room on Bawdy Boardwalk.

Everyone wore their traditional overcoats with the pockets cut out.

Peeping Perry called the meeting to order at 2pm.

New business consisted of watching the nude beach. Due to inclement weather, the only sun-worshipers were two mermaids, both of whom concealed their breast behind shells.

“Boy, this is lame,” Jeering Jerry snorted. “I could be home watching snow melt.”

Creepy Karen shot him the stink eye. “You sick bastard!”

Ollie Olger removed his hand from his pocket. “I’m going home.”

The meeting was adjourned at 2:05pm. 

Leering Lori, Secretary

Have you ever wondered how prescription drugs get their names? Me neither, but now that you’ve asked, I’ll tell you.

Big Pharma would have you believe the names are based on the molecular structure of the drug. This is only an inside joke to make patients feel stupid because they cannot pronounce the name.

Every major pharmaceutical company employs a voodoo witch-doctor whose sole purpose is to name new drugs. 

Here’s how it works. A pharmaceutical scientist points to the specific part of the body the drug is supposed to effect. The witch doctor then inserts a pin or needle into a voodoo doll at the appropriate location. Whatever he says after stabbing the doll becomes the drug name.

Translating the witch doctor’s native tongue into English is not easy, which explains why the names are so difficult to pronounce. Expensive drugs always contain the letters X, Z, U, and sometimes Y. Sprinkling in a few Js and Ks never hurt anyone either.

To educate physicians, pharmaceutical reps offer a subscription to Medical Babbel. After a few thousand repetitions, doctors can wow their patients by rattling off even the most challenging drug name without cracking a grin.

Follow me for other Huhs?, Hows, and Whys.

In all my years, I’ve never seen a deer cross the highway anywhere near a Deer X-ing sign. Some might argue that deer can’t read, but I think they’re just belligerent jaywalkers. 

To drive home the message, the highway department should paint two lines across the pavement as a designated crosswalk. Then have game wardens regularly patrol the area. Any deer not obeying the laws designed to protect them (and us) should be pulled over and given a ticket.

Once the deer get in line, perhaps the armadillos and possums would follow suit. It would also make it easier for the vultures to find a meal. All in favor, add a comment.

If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our hostess is that ageless wonder, Granny Tadpole Wisoff-Fields.. If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.

The hostess seated us in one of those semi-dark booths that screams, “This is gonna be expensive.” I had the waiter bring us a bottle of wine and an appetizer. Mary Jane ordered spaghetti and I chose linguini with clam sauce.

Watching her suck in a dangling noodle reminded me of that scene in Lady and the Tramp where the dogs are drawn together by a strand of spaghetti till their lips touch.

I offered a toast. “To the most talented and amazing partner a nekkid man could ever have.”

She may have blushed. It was too dark to tell. 

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This is an excerpt from my WIP The Bare Necessities, which is a parody of the TV show Naked & Afraid.