Did you ever wonder why there were no mythological Gods of Redneck Folklore?
In the rural south, we have a rich history of idiots who have attempted feats beyond explanation, some have even lived to tell about it. Therefore, there’s no need to fabricate stories about fictional heroes in an attempt to create a rational account of things we don’t understand. Why waste a perfectly good Saturday night gazing at the stars asking, “Why?” when you could be sayin’, “Pass me another beer.”
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the Scout Master responsible for providing the fuel for our virtual campfire of story tellers is Gabby Jo 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.
Billy Bob was half goat/half man. We won’t go into his genealogy, but trust me, his kinfolk still appear on tabloid TV.
One day, Billy Bob peeped over the fork of ash tree to spy on the Duke sisters (Daisy and Dixie), skinny dipping. Little did he know this particular tree was a Venus Fly Ash.
Bubba saw him and cried out, “Billy Bob, pull your head out of that ash!” But it was too late. The tree snapped shut on Billy’s head.
“He could’ve been President,” lamented Bubba. “Not everybody can stick their head that far up their ash.”
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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.
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