Those of you in the same age bracket as Perry Block probably remember Shari Lewis and Lamb Chop. For those under age thirty-nine—No, it wasn’t a cooking show (although some considered Shari to be quite a dish). Shari, whose real name was Sonia Phyllis Hurwitz, was a ventriloquist and puppeteer. Here’s a photo for future reference.
This weekend, Ozark Writers League will hold a quarterly meeting in Branson, MO. The Pennells are car-pooling with me and Connie and Kim has gleefully referred to this expedition as a “road trip.” It should be a blast. I’ve even promised to leave my blue hair-dye at home and stop acting my age.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the shepherd responsible for minding the flock and rounding up strays is Heidi 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.
Horace was worried. After two years of begging, the network had finally agreed to let him create and host a reality TV show. Unfortunately, the guidelines and limitations they imposed infringed upon his vision of scantily clad sorority girls pummeling each other with feather pillows. A popular ex-president had even volunteered to co-star in the opening episode to give the series credibility.
Now, Animal Planet had taken over his idea and supplied a cast that could not speak English and were unwilling to follow simple direction. Monumental failure loomed on the horizon.
Who, in their right mind, would watch EweTube?
Horror, Psychological Thrillers, Poetry, Flash Fiction
Stories From Within
Finding ways to make words sparkle
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.
All the Blogging That's Fit To Print
AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.
I don't write, I touch without touching.
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Stylistically Abusing Language for the Betterment of Mankind
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And the worst things. And all that weird stuff in between.