During your school days, how many of you went on a fieldtrip in a big, yellow bus? Personally, I loved being free from the confines of the classroom for a few hours. It was always adventure. On an *FFA trip one my buddies got sick from smoking a big, green cigar he’d snuck on the bus. He spewed puke across four seats—with an hour ride still ahead of us.
Another memorable trip was a tenth grade biology trip to the sewer plant (no, we weren’t greeted by Ed Norton). We toured the entire facility and saw first-hand how raw sewage is processed. The solids were dumped in mountainous mounds across a large field. The most important thing I learned from that trip, was how to spread it around.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the bus driver on this fieldtrip of 100 word adventures is Ralphetta Kramden 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.
Failing body parts and malfunctioning organs are the heavy artillery in the Master Procrastinator’s arsenal. Not only is it unethical to force a person to perform a task which might further aggravate an injury, it’s also grounds for a lawsuit.
To help sell the medical exemption, I recommend practicing your grimace and other facial expressions of pain and agony in front of a mirror daily. It doesn’t hurt to work on your vocal tones either. The last thing you want to do is come across as whiny or pitiful, both of which kill any sympathy you may have accrued.
*Future Farmers of America
-The above is an excerpt from “The SevenSix Habits of Highly Effective Procrastinators.” This helpful essay and more can be found in One Idiot Short of a Village, which can be ordered by clicking on the cover (found on your right), or by emailing the author.
Poetry, Horror, Psychological Thrillers
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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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AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.
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