A few weeks back my wife, Connie, went on a cleaning binge. According to the TV, Queen Elizabeth was fixin’ to turn 96 and the way Connie was working it appeared we would be hosting the celebration. My role in the preparations would be to scrub the toilet.
While polishing the porcelain throne, I wondered if the Queen did her own paperwork, or if one of the aides-de-camp attended to wiping the royal arse. At her advanced age, the terrain nust be the texture of a prune. Bending over the bowl, I inhaled deeply, begging the bleach-infused cleaner to flush the aforementioned image from my brain.
After recovering my senses, I installed a purple velvet cover over the ring and gently lowered the lid. Alas, the Queen never showed—she didn’t even call. How rude!
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our hostess, currently serving home detention in Belton, MO is Pity Party Shelley (P.P. for short—pun intended) 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.
My neighbor, Carol, told me Jimmy was spending a lot of time at Sharon Peters trailer. When asked about it, he said he was just helping with a few chores. I had a good idea what chores he was helping with.
Yesterday, I came home early.
Jimmy wasn’t there.
Grabbing my rolling pin, I marched down to Sharon’s trailer. When I walked in, she was wearing a purple lace teddy and Jimmy’s boxers were around his ankles. I caught her by the hair and knocked out a couple of teeth with the rolling pin.
Jimmy ain’t feelin’ too hot neither.
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.