Russell Gayer, author speaker
A few days ago, I had a thought, which may surprise those of you who know me well. I was writing my autobiography and came to the scene where Connie and I applied for a marriage license. It occurred to me that this was the only type of license not requiring renewal. It has no expiration date. How strange.
What if people DID have to renew them and carry a plastic card in their purse or wallet?. Would the Matrimony Patrol spot your wedding ring and demand to see your license? If caught flirting, would they write the offender a ticket and make him/her explain their actions in front of a judge and their spouse? Now you know why I avoid having thoughts. It always leads to more questions than answers.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our hostess is feisty little bruin named Shewwey Bear 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.
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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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And the worst things. And all that weird stuff in between.
A groan at the last pun
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Yeah, but I bet you smiled too.
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Absolutely hilarious! At least the DT photos were put to good use. 😀
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Yes, adding streaks of color to his orange hair was a real pleasure.
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😀
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Nice one, Russell. I feel sorry for the pup or little kid who owned the soft toys.
I ordered a carton of t-paper on eBay and ended up giving half of it away. We’re fortunate that our supply of t-paper comes from interstate and not overseas. The only problem was when truck drivers couldn’t deliver because no one could travel to or from other states. Still, there’s always newspaper. I understand the sale of newspapers skyrocketed at the height of Covid.
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Our only local newspaper went digital. They also want $34 a month for a subscription, which is more than I’m will to spend. I’ve used newspaper, but it can be rough on raw and tender areas.
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Dear Wuthel Bear,
You’ve succeeded in sinking to a new low. This story truly stinks…maybe not the story, but certainly more than I can bear. I’m flushed…poor Winnie. Tanks for the memory of when toilet paper was worth a bag of gold. We managed to buy some that I think had been sand paper in a previous life. My cheeks still sting.
You do bring up some interesting thoughts about marriage licenses. What if they did expire? Or be so easily revoked? Would that mean Jan and I have 51 years of common law? Oh dear, oh dear.
Shalom,
Shewwey Bear W(T)F
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Dear Shewwey Bear W(T)F,
Thanks for the compliment. I do keep lowering the bar, don’t I? 🙂
Just imagine what it would be like going to the revenue office and having their ace photographer take a new wedding shot of you and Jan for your marraige license. They’d probably want proof of insurance too. Common law would become illegal and you could be arrested for cohabitation without a license.
Oh Bother.
Wuthel Bare
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Thank you for descending to my level! Nothing wrong with a bit of toilet humour!
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Thanks, Keith. Before the Queen’s death, I posed the question, “Does Elizabeth do her own paperwork, or does one of her minions attend to wiping the royal arse?”
I suspect there will be a book, and possibly a made-for-TV movie on the subject, “Confessions of a Royal Arse Wiper.”
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Oy. Where’s the old Sears catalogue when you need it!
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Sadly, those are just a memory reserved for us of a certain age. Even corn cobs are hard to come by these days.
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I think that may be a good thing 🙂
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hahaha – made me laugh out loud 🙂
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Excellent. You made my day.
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Wonderful ideas here. Marriages with term limits? Five years and you need to move on to someone else. Funny story, of course, but OH!! the images. 🙂
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Thanks, Bill. If you moved on to someone else you’d have to get a new license which would be more trouble than renewing the current one. Just let it expire and hope you don’t get caught.
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Good points, Russell.
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LOL!
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thanks for stopping by, Danny.
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The marriage license thing may yet come together with the flirt police. Good use for the Trump photographs.
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Yeah, Trump looks good with a brown-nose.
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Good point about the marriage license. I want to know why we don’t need a “Parenting” license that you must get renewed yearly. They let my husband and I take this vulnerable tiny child from the hospital without any training or oversight or anything. Ah! 🙂 The first incident with a dirty diaper was traumatic. Which leads to your story. It was pretty stinky (haha).
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Yes, we went through O.J.T. (on the job training) during baby raising days. It’s amazing how much conflicting advice you receive–most of which wasn’t useful.
We used cloth diapers in the 80s, and I changed my share of stinky ones.
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A fragrant little tale.
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Yes indeed.
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as far as puns go, i bow to the master. well done. 🙂
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I’m flattered, Plaridel. Potty humor is one of my specialties.
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I cannot help but wonder how many would decide not to renew their licences…
As for your stinky story, you just had to go there, didn’t you? 😀
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Dale,
I’m sure you figured out where the story was going by the 2nd paragraph. Sometimes my humor is pretty predictable.
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There is that 😉
And that’s okay, too!
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You got me on that last line, Russell. I’m still laughing over it. Luckily the bad old days of 2020 are past and we’ve got the bad new days of 2022 at last. Here’s hoping for 2023.
-David
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Well, at least we have the toilet paper issue behind us. (that was a groaner)
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I don’t want to think about how history will judge these pandemic years, Russell, but you’re right about the value of DJT photos…
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Watching the final Jan. 6th hearing as I type this. I wonder how good he is at coordinating jail breaks?
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Haha…this made me snort out loud.
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