My dental appointment is scheduled for 3 pm on July 16th. By the time you read this my teeth will have been jackhammered free of plaque, polished, and flossed. I always dread this semi-annual ritual, but keep going back because of the little sign Debra has on the wall that reads, “You Only Have to Clean the Ones You Want to Keep.”
Let’s hope Debra hasn’t read my post from June 12th. Otherwise, she may break out the heavy duty cleaning tools (including oral dynamite) and hold my complimentary toothbrush for ransom.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the literary hygienist who cleans every sentence and flosses between each word is Polly Dent 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.
Ewe told me to go stand in the corner—said I was baaaaaad.
Ewe accused me of being stubborn and hard-headed.
I said, “It takes one to know one.” (That didn’t go over too well.)
It seems I have a bad case of hoof-in-mouth-disease. My hole just keeps getting deeper and deeper. If I had a backhoe, I’d probably dig all the way to China.
Looks like I really pissed Ewe off this time.
Maybe if I lay low, keep my nose clean, and croon a few bars of “Ewe Really Got a Hold On Me, Baaa-beee,” Ewe’ll forgive me.
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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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