Last weekend, I was on display at the 42nd Annual Foothills of the Ozarks Antique Auto Club Swap Meet in Springdale, Arkansas. Over the two day span, three or four elderly, toothless women sized me up before shaking their heads slowly from side to side and walking away.
“You’ll never get that for him, Hon.” Said one old hag, as she wiped the tobacco juice from her chin. “He’s an antique all right, but it would take way too much work to get him where he’d be worth anything. I’m not looking for a ‘Project.’” Poor Connie. It’s looks like she’s stuck with me for at least another year.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, welcome to our weekly blog swap meet where people exchange stories (and hopefully comments). Our booth wrangler is Fanny Bricetag Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this weekly exercise in madness, head over to her blog for instructions. To rent a booth in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
Some people have so much gall as to suggest that THEY are the center of the universe
These arrogant, narcissist bastards only care about THEIR needs and feelings, and expect the rest of world to orbit around THEM, catering to THEIR every whim.
I’ve just got one question for these egotistical morons.
“Who died and appointed YOU Elvis?”
If THEY would stop admiring THEIR own reflection for two minutes and step away from the mirror, the truth would crush THEIR fragile pride.
After all, any fool can see that I AM THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE!
Okay, so I plagiarized this from Donald Trump (all except the Elvis part). I suppose there’ll be a big stink about it now in the conservative media and I’ll become as hated as Hillary. I can feel my value at the swap meet is sinking even further.