Do you ever promise yourself that you’re NOT going to do something, then wind up doing it anyway? How a “NO” can get twisted into “YES” is one of the great mysteries of the universe.
After pondering on this conundrum for ten to fifteen seconds, I came up with the following equation, which has been field-tested for accuracy and holds true 99.8% of the time when dealing with grandkids and wives. I call it the Russellean Theorem. No + No + No + No = Yes.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the medieval barber, known for her penchant for purple, is Theodora of Belton 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.
“Remember those haircuts Mom used to give us in the sixties, Perry?”
“Yeah, we were supposed to look like the Beatles. She’d call you Paul and me Ringo.”
“That’s because you had a schnoz big enough to hold the family station wagon.”
“And poor Sis, she got the same haircut, only parted on the side to look like Twiggy.”
“It didn’t help that Mom had poor eyesight and used pinking shears.”
“The kids at school used to laugh and call us Fred and Barney.”
“Maybe that’s why we entered the stoned-age in the seventies.”
“I wonder what became of that bowl?”
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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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