Russell Gayer, author speaker
Not a day goes by that I don’t get a phone call from a total stranger wanting to help me. Yesterday, a young lady named Lisa told me that because I stayed at one of their properties in the past, she wanted to give me a week in Orlando. One of us must have amnesia. I don’t remember staying at their resort.
An hour later, I received an offer to consolidate my credit card debt, thus saving me thousands of dollars. Another caller wanted to provide an extended warranty on our 2001 Toyota. What a blessing to have all these thoughtful people interested in my well-being. Is this a great country, or what?
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our purple-clad garden gnome, who would love to sell you 100-word overdraft protection, is Mammy Warbucks 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 ensemble of practicing fic-titioners in the writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
In days of olde
When knights were bold
And Fruit of the Looms not yet invented
King Arthur’s men
Would often send
Their underwear out to the cleaners
There’s nothing worse
Said the laundry serf
Than a knight who’s gone too long
Tis a life of pain
To remove such stains
From chainmail that is reeking
Twice dipped in lye
Then hung to dry
A jingling banner in the breeze
The maiden sighs
With lovelorn eyes
And the knight cries, “No starch, please!”
Poetry, Horror, Psychological Thrillers
Stories From Within
Finding ways to make words sparkle
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.
A Humor Blog
Stylistically Abusing Language for the Betterment of Mankind
Straight up with a twist– Because life is too short to be subtle!
An author's perspective of mystery and more.
And the worst things. And all that weird stuff in between.
That’s a complicated rhyming scheme, Russell. And huge fun
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Neil. I had fun writing it.
LikeLike
I was going to say “if I recall correctly” the underwear back then consisted of a strip of cloth carefully wrapped around and tied = but I’m not that old!
The Orlando girl always sounds exactly the same no matter how many times she calls. I once accused her of being a machine. Suddenly the sound quality changed and she assured me she was not a machine, but then she went right back to her spiel with no recognition of my own humanity.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I’m glad you’re not old enough to recall what they wore under there armor. Perhaps Perry Block will drop by and we can ask him.
I love your response to the Orlando girl. I’ve gotten to the point where I refuse to recognize her humanity as well.
LikeLike
*giggle*
LikeLike
Next to what Scots wear under kilts probably the next question many want answered is what knights wore under armor. I hate to imagine the condition of it after such rousing experiences as spending a day in the saddle, jousting. fighting, and drinking at taverns. I didn’t realize laundries existed. I have profound sympathy for the serfs working there. I also sympathize with wild animals trying to survive along the travel routes taken by said knights. Another hilarious post, Russell. 😀 — Suzanne
LikeLiked by 2 people
I feel sorry for their horse. Who would want a heavy, stinky, metal contraption sitting on your back. I suspect many of the knights tales or courageous daring-do were huge embellishments–bigger liars than fishermen.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The stories were probably mostly written years later to add glamour to the period. There’s not much glamor about war and getting wounded in dangerous games. A horse was in as much danger as a knight as many died in wars. It was also highly political. The romance was added later. Women think they have it bad now. They were merely property back then. I agree about the sad plight of horses carrying reeking knights. The castles were cold and dirty. I read that some out-of-the-way corners were used as urinals. There wasn’t much good about some old days. 😦 — Suzanne
LikeLiked by 1 person
My Dad said the same thing about the period he grew up in (born in 1909). In his opinion, there was nothing good about the old days. “These are the good ol’ days,” he would say, and he was right.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Reblogged this on Musings on Life & Experience and commented:
If you enjoyed this post, you’ll also enjoy Russell’s books. Just go to the top of the page and click on BOOKS for ordering information.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I wish there was a “love” button. Thank you again for reblogging my posts.
LikeLike
Dear Sir T. Whitey,
Thank you for clearing up underlying questions that I’m sure we’ve all asked ourselves. Nice to see you’re waxing poetic these days. It brought to mind one of my dear old dad’s favorite verses that I shall share:
In days of old
When knights were bold
And toilets were not invented.
They’d leave their load
In the middle of the road
And walk away contented.
(Ah the things we remember from childhood.)
Now that I’ve dropped that load…
Shalom from the purple-clad garden gnome,
Mammy Warbucks W(T)F
LikeLiked by 5 people
Dear Mammy Warbucks W(T)F,
My dear old dad had several favorite limericks too. Unfortunately, none are suitable for sharing on a family-friendly venue, such as this one.
As to your Dad’s limerick, perhaps this is what the Beatles were referencing when they sang, “Why don’t we do it in the Road?”
Here’s a tip for you–don’t wipe on poison ivy.
Sir T. Whitey
LikeLike
Starched chainmail? Good lord, you’d have to be tough to ride a horse wearing that! You made me chuckle Russell. And I’m so pleased to hear there are so many people wanting to help you – my advice is take advantage of every offer, especially if a Nigerian prince emails asking for your bank details. 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
Funny you should mention the Nigerian prince, Lynn. He called twice yesterday. I have a hard time understanding what he’s saying (his English isn’t good) but I did give him a bank account and routing number that I made up on the spot. Someone is in for a surprize!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lucky them! 🙂
LikeLike
Ha ha – great take on the photo prompt! Thanks for making me laugh.
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for laughing. It’s good medicine.
LikeLike
Highly amusing 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Iain.
LikeLiked by 1 person
But those suits of armor had drop seats in the back, right? I’ve often wondered how really awful a knight must have smelled back in the days of chivalry. Perhaps the maidens in distress had swollen adenoids and couldn’t smell a thing 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I didn’t know about the drop seats–the very first union suit, right? I wonder what local they were members of?
If the fair maiden wasn’t in distress before the knight arrived, her olfactory system soon became under attack.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And here you have me crossing my legs with the thought of chainmail underwear…. and you better rinse out the lye
LikeLiked by 1 person
Be careful not to pinch yourself, or have them crawl up the back.
The cleaners hate using lye, but it’s the only thing that will eat the crust off.
LikeLike
Between you and the Purple-clad garden gnome, you’ve quite the load to share!
Love the poetic approach, Sir Tighty-Whitey
LikeLiked by 2 people
If you walk behind the purple-clad gnome, be careful where you step.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Noted. But I probably would have trouble walking in her footsteps, what with my much longer legs…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I just walk on my knees when I’m around her. That puts us at the same height.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We have the same phone angels. Wow, what are the odds?
A dirty little ditty.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Now we have a special connection, Tracey. Does having the same phone angels make us cousins? I hope the same girls don’t call Perry too. I’m not sure I could stand being related to him.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I thought I’d gone to someone else’s website, (have you tarted it up?) but having read it I realised it was mucky pup Russell again. And it’s breakfast time… I should know better.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Here’s a quote from my latest book. “You can take the idiot out of the South, but you can’t take the South out of the idiot.”
Yep, beneath the new window-dressing, it’s still the same old nonsense.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s very smart.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I spent a few nights in shining plaster once, is that the same experience?
You’ve also gone poetic Russell, nice one. You should do this more often.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve never seen plaster shine, so you must have been in Hollywood, in which case it would count.
Glad you enjoyed my little limerick.
LikeLike
As underwear chainmail sounds mighty painful. Wouldn’t that pull mighty hard on the ol’ pubes? Maybe that’s the real reason knights screamed so loudly on the battlefield. A great poem. I really enjoyed it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m sure it wasn’t too comfortable riding up their crack either. Talk about having your balls in a vice . . . .
LikeLiked by 1 person
No kidding. A wedgie with those might put a guy in the hospital.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It took a while to work out the rhyme, but it was funny!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Liz.
LikeLike
Oh so funny! I love “A jingling banner in the breeze” such fun. And “No starch please.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you got a chuckle from it, Lish.
LikeLike
What fun! Astronauts, those shining knights of the sky, have similar problems I suspect. Thank you for sharing that pongy piece, that stinky story, that toilet tale – it’s highly entertaining. And I love that you did it in verse!
As regards telesales, I once had a caller say, “Our records show you recently had a car accident?”
She sounded very determined, but I hadn’t had a car accident…
“Mmm…yes?”
“Can I talk to you about it?”
“No, I’m afraid not. You see it was a fatal accident.”
“Pardon?”
“Yes. I was killed. Goodbye”
I hung up…
LikeLiked by 3 people
Sorry to hear about your fatal accident. I’ll remember that line the next time they try to sell me a life insurance policy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m mourning your loss with laughter, Penny. ROFL. You should use that for a flash fiction. 😉 Priceless.
LikeLike
Definitely two of your best stories! 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Aww, what a sweet thing to say. (blush)
LikeLiked by 1 person
well, it was called the dark ages for nothing. it was for the simple reason that there were so many knights. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great pun, Plaridel.
LikeLiked by 1 person
In Scotland we wear the same under our armour as we do under the kilt.
Rust is a problem.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Rust is a problem beneath our overalls in Arkansas too.
LikeLike
Rust is a problem under your kilt?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I crave forgiveness, m’lady, this is not a fit topic for a lady in polite society.
But, hey, we’re on Russell’s blog, so maybe…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very funny poem, brilliant take on the photograph. Those knights really suffered! As for phone issues, offering to sell the caller a 1974 Ford Fiesta with hardly any rust seems to bore them quite quickly.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Perhaps you mean the Pinto (also known as the Ford Firebomb), the infamous compact car that would burst into flames upon contact. I would think terrorists (I mean, telemarketers) would love to buy one of those.
LikeLike
Really funny. Very much enjoyed it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Lisa.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I enjoyed this light hearted piece of humour.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, and I see you dressed the part too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So funny, although I think I’ve been traumatised by the thought of stains in the chain mail. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think the lye will take care of the stains. Let’s hope the cleaner does a good job with the rinse. As for the visual image in your mind, take two aspirin and call me in the morning.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I see your sense of humor is as acute as ev. Of couse the biggest problem with armor and on horseback was that the knight was so easy to knock off with a good pole-ax. And once flat on the ground they were like turtles.
As to your proffered stay in Orlando, well, you poor thing. Is that all? I had a representative of the World Monetary fund e- mail me that they were sending an ambassador to me from Jakarta with about 6 million US— supposedly American foreign aid dollars-
— for me. Eat your heart out
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve been compared to a turtle a few times, but it was in reference to the speed I move after being assigned a “honey-do” task.
I’m green with envy over your $6 million landfall. Now, you’ll be able to buy my book. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m rather dreading having to entertain that ambassador. I fear he may have expensive tastes and expect more than just standing outside and watching the migrating geese. Shall I send him your way? You’re quite skilled at entertaining. 🙂
The representative’s ready to send funds as soon as I sent certain info, but my dear husband’s suspicious nature is a problem. He has never allowed me to send our banking info in order to claim all the millions of dollars and British pounds I’ve inherited from long-lost relatives through the years. Thus we’re still poor.
I appreciate that all you want is for me to buy your book. When my church sisters heard about my windfall they suggested I could pay for the new church building we’re planning.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m flattered that you think I skilled at entertaining. However, I fear the ambassador from Jakarta might not be able to afford my fee for a weekend of entertainment.
My wife is suspicious of such windfalls also and is rather protective of our personal information. Therefore, we have missed several such “golden opportunities.”
Tell you what, once the new church is completed, I’ll donate a book to the church library.
LikeLike
Ha ha ha ha ha.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Made me laugh again, Russell. The idea of chain mail undergarments is eye watering enough, but please, no starch. Reminds me of my mother’s excessive use of the stuff and I never want to go back to those times.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Me neither. Who want’s starch in their shorts? 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
That was hilarious!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Dawn.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hilarious! And good to see you wax lyrical, your talents abound! Chainmail underwear sounds torturous, but then I think of the poor laundry serf who has to wash them.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, I pity the poor serf too. Let’s hope he or she had some really long-handled tongs to hold them with.
LikeLike
I shudder at the thought of reeking chainmail underwear. Oh, the horrors of being a medieval knight!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The damsel only THOUGHT she was in distress until the knight arrived.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That stench …. eeeeewww!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is such an educational post. I’m learning things I never wanted to know. 😀 Great fun, Russel. I’ll be sending you a link later today, where you can put in your passwords, bank data, and such. I’ll store it for you safely, promise!
LikeLike
Love it!
LikeLike
I have noticed you don’t monetize your site, don’t waste your traffic, you can earn additional bucks every month because
you’ve got hi quality content. If you want to know how to make extra money, search for:
Ercannou’s essential adsense alternative
LikeLike