I’ve never been a big fan of superheroes with the possible exceptions of Underdog and Super Chicken. Generally, I prefer the bumbling anti-hero who strives to avoid conflict, but tends to accidently save the day simply by default.
Such characters consistently fail in areas where they most desire to succeed (i.e., romance, best-selling author, etc.), and have an uncanny knack of always ending up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Trouble follows them like a band of gypsy hemorrhoids, yet they can’t help but crawl out of every sewage hole smelling like a rose.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the cosmetic-wielding Wonder Woman who can teach you to hold successful home parties from the comfort of your own blog is Mary Kay Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to dip your toe in this brave new venture, visit her site and follow the step-by-step instructions. To view the imprisoned souls in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
Slower than a sloth wading through molasses!
More powerful than an extra-strength laxative!
Able to leap small bounds in a single building!
Look! In your soup!
It’s a fly! It’s a bug!
Yes, it’s Stuporman… strange visitor from another planet, who came to Earth with a bad toupee and reasoning abilities far beneath those of a concrete garden gnome!
Stuporman… who can reverse the flow of raw sewage, bend spaghetti noodles with his bare hands, and who, disguised a foul-mouth politician from a great northeastern metropolis, fights a never-ending battle for ignorance, hatred, social injustice, and the extinction of the American Dream!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Stuporman did not authorize or offer to pay me millions of dollars to post this on my site. He furthermore wishes me to inform you that any resemblance between his character and that of any politician living or dead is strictly a coincidence.
Horror, Psychological Thrillers, Poetry, Flash Fiction
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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.
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.