Russell Gayer, author speaker
While most of the world is watching the Summer Games in Rio, I’m busy training for the 2018 Winter Olympics in PyeongChang, South Korea. Unlike most athletes who specialize in one particular discipline, I plan to bring home the gold in multiple events. This may sound like an unreasonable expectation for an overweight man who recently turned sixty, but before you book me a padded cell at the insane asylum, check out my plan for becoming America’s first Obese Olympic Champion. It all starts with the proper diet and finely tuned training regime.
I arise each morning before the crack of noon and start my day with a nutritionally balanced breakfast. One half-dozen chocolate donuts, a double order of biscuits and gravy, and a pound of bacon hold me over till lunch. (The last thing you want is to be halfway through a strenuous workout and run out of energy.) By 4pm I’m famished and on my way to Dave’s Pizzeria for Happy Hour. Two Chicago-style pizzas and a pitcher of beer later, I’m ready to start thinking about dinner.
If all goes as planned, 546 days from now you can watch me blow away the competition in the Luge and a variety of other downhill events (using gravity to my advantage).
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the Gold Medalist in the 100 word Freestyle Flash is Sheree Godiva 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.
Born on the day Ernest Tubb died, Claude was destined to become a country star. He had the boots, the cowboy hat, even the sequined-encrusted, powder-blue jump suit. All he lacked was a decent singing voice.
“When Claude Bawls sings,” one music reviewer wrote, “his vocal tones are reminiscent of a coyote who sat down on a steel trap.”
Claude’s entourage included a couple of bleach-blonde, trailer-trash bimbos and his cousin, Leroy. Booked to play a Louisiana swamp family reunion, one of the bimbos constructed a sign from an empty beer carton promoting the event as “The Bored Strait Tour.”
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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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Dear Claude,
You might consider taking up Sumo. It sounds like you have the perfect diet plan for it. Although I’m not sure about the diaper and the man bun. Perhaps you’d best stick with the luge. As for country music, doesn’t it all sound like a wild animal caught in a steel trap? Perhaps I just don’t get the finer points of twang and a whining steel guitar. (Okay, I admit…I’m a Loretta Lynn fan but please keep that under your cowboy hat.)
I’m flip turning at the end of the gene pool now.
Freestylin’ Shalom,
Sheree Godiva
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Dear Sheree Godiva,
I really wish you wouldn’t refer to my thong as an adult diaper. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but let’s just keep that under our cowboy hat as well, shall we?
One thing about Claude, he can really howl out those hurtin’ songs about Mama, cheating, getting drunk, trains, and prison. In other words, all the important things in life. Too bad he doesn’t sing one about biscuits & gravy. I’m sure it would be a huge hit.
Heading for the chow line,
Claude
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Go for the Gold Russell!
The “coyote that sat on a steel trap…” has me chuckling 🙂
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Thanks for your support. I remember you when they hang that gold medal around my neck and play our national anthem.
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The intro was even funnier than the main story, Russell, and both were hilarious. I remember the story and it’s still funny. 😀 — Suzanne
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Thanks, Suzanne. The original story was one of my favorites too. It’s not everyday you can write about a character named Claude Bawls.
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Look forward to seeing you in the luge! Nice tale, gave me a smile.
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Thanks, Ian. I’ve been training really hard.
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I wouldn’t want to be the competitor in front of you on the luge. Just sayin’.
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Yes, I pity the fool who gets in front of me. Depending upon what I eat just before the competition, the person right behind me might not have it so good either.
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😦
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You’re ridiculous.
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I stopped reading your diet sheet after ‘chocolate donuts’ – the only duoghnits worth eating are silled with jam and sprinkled with sugar. As for Claude – no reason he shouldn’t make a living, after all, many a singer has no musical ability.
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Talent?? Who needs talent? Donald Trump says it’s highly overrated–and he should know.
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Doughnuts filled with jam. Mtyapologies for the typos. I’ll do better after my cataract op!
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Don’t worry about typos here. I’m no grammarian myself.
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Both stories are funny! Although I should warn you, I intend to bring home Gold in the Ice Cream Eating Competition! 🙂
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Okay, but you can’t use your hands.
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Another twofer. Thanks for the laugh(s). Maybe you should reconsider your plan so that you can live to see the 2020 games. Just a suggestion. 😷🚑
Tracey
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I appreciate you looking out for my health, Doc. One of us should. 🙂
I apologize for being so selfish. If I can live another 25 or 30 years, there will be young girls bathing me and changing my Depends. I’d hate to deprived them that opportunity. Perhaps Perry and I can be roommates. Wouldn’t that be a hoot!
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Yikes, I need to wipe that image out of my brain.
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Claude Bawls. I remember him. He wrote that song, “Don’t Mess With The Wildcat.”
Good luck on the Olympic challenge. My scouts tell me you’re going for breaking the record for most chili consumed — then, you’ll break ANOTHER record!
Happy landings!
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Yes, that was from the “Scratch Where It Itches” album. It might had made the charts had it not be for Claude’s howling vocals.
Your scouts are spot on. I love chili and never seem to get my fill. I’m comment on the other possible record, but I’m way to modest.
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In other words, you have to be far away or you’ll be embarrassed if you’re too close. Right? 😀
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Something like that.
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I don’t think you’ll even need a luge, you’ll just plough down and grab the gold. Fun stories, both of them.
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I don’t want to get a snow-burn, so having something under me might be a good idea. Glad you enjoyed them both.
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he must have some redeeming qualities to compensate for his lack of talent. maybe he looks like brad pitt. 🙂
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Yes, he’s a handsome devil.
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Listen, Russ, I don’t mind you describing me in alarmingly perfect detail, but could you warn me first? If any of your work goes viral, as a dizzy (not bimbo-esque) blonde (not bleach) who grew up in a trailer and wanted to be a groupie (of the Beatles not a country singer–well maybe Elvis), I want to get in on at least 7.5 minutes of cyber-fame. It’s the least you can do.
As for your training ambitions, I hear Twinkies are making a comeback–deep-fried. Look for them a Walmart in the frozen food section. You’re welcome!
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You’re way to smart to be a bimbo, Lorna. Although, you were a cut groupie. Tell me more about the trailer.
Deep fried Twinkles, are full of chemicals that might be considered “performance enhancing.” Those Olympic officials are funny about that stuff.
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Bored strait. Funny stuff, Russ.
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Thanks, Erin. It’s nice to see you here. I’ll stop by soon.
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We at Poke Sallet are extremely concerned that you might not be wearing the appropriate earrings while you’re training. This is crucial. You must visit us soon to prevent injuring that fine-tuned machine.
Poke Sallet Jewelry – Style from the Swamp
https://pokesalletjewelry.wordpress.com/
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I appreciate your concern. Do you have anything that contains a tuft of Rougarou hair?
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Seeing as I gave birth to one, the answer is yes and I shall harvest on Thursday night when the full moon is in Aquarius. I’ll have to chain him up, because, of course I’m willing to go the extra mile for Poke Sallet sympathizers.
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You poor dear. Those brutes can be a handful, especially during their formative years when they’re still coming to grips with their natural inclination for beastly behavior.
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“coyote who sat down on a steel trap”
If only we had more reviews like this. Sigh.
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We’ve all heard singers like that, but most reviewers don’t have the guts to put it in print.
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That Claude Bawls is quite a character.
But with a name like that, it’s no surprise. lol
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You have to admit, it looks good on the marquee at the Bijou.
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LOL…true!
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