I’ve been accused of a lot of things in the past three years. Putting gum in Janet’s hair, planting a whoopee cushion in Sandra’s seat, and singing Buck owens’ “I’ve Got A Tiger By Tail,” at the top of my lungs until the bus driver was ready duct tape my mouth shut.
Sure, the wheels on this bus go round & round all over the globe, but there’s no way I’m singing “99 Bottles of Purified Water.”
Some people get to their destination and hop off, new riders get on, and the journey continues. One thing’s for certain, “We’re not there yet.”
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the driver of this bus, starting her 4th year of service, is Ralphetta Kramden Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise of madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
Their bags were packed and tucked safely in the storage compartment. His and hers spandex tights, pink stilettos, size forty-two thong underwear, weed-whacker shredded T-shirts, leopard print Cougar-wear, and two large bins of hair color, styling gel, and assorted make-up.
“A quarter of a million people applied for this year’s team,” said Bob Grossman, talent coordinator.
“The competition was extremely stiff. It’s not enough just to dress tacky or obscene. Bad taste and poor judgment comes naturally to some people, but sinking to this level requires hard work and dedication.
“We appreciate the Friday Fictioneers promoting the tour,” said Grossman.
In response to Ralphetta’s question, the 100 word limit of FFF has taught me analyse each word of every sentence in order to condense a full-length story into brain fart. The highest compliment I ever received was from former fictioneer, Linda Vernon, who once said, “Russell’s writing is tighter than Kim Novak’s face.”
Thanks to all who have read my nonsense and chose to click the “follow” button. And a special thanks to Ralphetta for keeping the bus between the ditches.
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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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