Evidently, the average American television viewer is enthralled by all things Redneck. The satellite airwaves are filled with reality shows of southern folks wrestlin’ gators, whittling duck calls, and surviving months in the wilderness on two cans of potted meat, eight ounce of grits, and a fifth of rot-gut whiskey.
Those with necks of other colors (including blue-bloods) are fascinated by the determination, ingenuity, and bathing habits of the simple-minded Redneck. Have you ever wondered why there are no shows featuring Yankees doing dumb stuff? That’s because they lack the creative flair and daredevil attitude to start a sentence with, “Hold my beer while I . . .”
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the head chef in charge of menu creations is Sunny-Side -Up Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this exercise of madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF “Menu of Authors” click here.
Bubba got elected to congress on the Aginner ticket, vowing to oppose any legislation involving change.
Celeste came to Washington in pursuit of wealth. She was young, beautiful, educated, and most of all—willing. Her part-time job at the Union Station gift shop paid only a pittance, but provided exposure to potential Sugar Daddies.
Two bites into his Cowboy Burger, Bubba saw a young woman clutch her throat, gasping for air. He rushed over and applied the famous hind-lick maneuver. An olive shot from the throat of the startled girl.
It was a life changing event for both of them.
With college football season starting this weekend you’ll need plenty of food.
Here’s something that’s sure to be a hit at your tailgate party.
Poetry, Horror, Psychological Thrillers
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This is the blog of a woman who is seriously on the edge and I mean right ON the edge…no, not there… just a little bit further… further than that…no, further still…just a tiny bit more… just move slightly to the right a little…no, that’s too much…just move a tad to the left…that’s right, just there…now you’ve moved too far to the left… Damn, what part of the ‘on the edge’ do you not understand? Oh, and her matricidal boy genius, come devil spawn.
Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
I may make you feel, but I can't make you think.
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AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.
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