What's So Funny?
Russell Gayer, author speaker
The Science of Birds
In school, I was never any good at science. All those experiments to unlock the mysteries of the universe seemed too much like work to me. It was a whole lot easier to unlock my imagination and just make up an answer.
Here’ an example: “How does electricity work?” Answer: The wires running to your house are actually hollow tubes filled with tiny energy gnats. These guys work for practically nothing, so the power company makes a healthy profit. Occasionally, the gnats go on strike (power outage) for higher wages, benefits, etc., and our rates go up. And that, boys and girls, is how electricity works.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the leader of the Gnat Pack of 100-word authors is Minah Birdbreath Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to join the Gnat Pack Union, fly over to her blog and complete the necessary paperwork. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
Copyright – Douglas MacIlroy
“Here’s an interesting article.” Jan flexed the newspaper. “Remember a couple of years ago when all those birds were falling out of the sky?”
“Yes, I remember,” said Shelly. “Some of the birds were purple martins. It broke my heart.” She sniffed back a tear.
“Well, our wonderful government wasted ten million dollars of taxpayer money on a study to determine the gender of the dead birds. I could’ve told them how to do that for nothing.”
“Oh really? And how do you tell their sex, by the coloring?”
“No. It’s easy. The females always have their mouths open.”
I Spy – 1962
Last night, I participated in the Toastmasters Area F humor speech contest and finished seventh in a field of six contestants. While I performed well below my usual level of mediocrity, I did learn the value of marathon sleeping from one of the other speakers.
Did you know that extended periods of sleep can actually make you younger? It’s true. This explains why people often mention that I have the mind of a five-year-old. My brain is so fully restored that Connie sometimes scolds me for “acting like a baby.” Based on this new information, I’m considering taking up Competitive Sleeping.
Now, if I could just get my body to feel younger.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the master of 100-word sleep deprivation is Dr. Drowsy I. Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to join the Professional Nappers Assoc. amble over to her blog for a pillow and blanket. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz
Genre – historical fiction (well, sort of . . .)
U.S. spies went through six months of rigorous training where they learned to use high-tech gadgets including tiny cocktail umbrellas with built-in microphones.
Many of the Kremlin conversations are still classified. Here’s one they did allow me to share.
“Tis good vodka, eh comrade?”
“Da. Hey Olga, more vodka for me and Niki.”
“How bout da legs on that Olga?”
“Da. She sleek as Cuban cigar.”
By decrypting a few key words of this exchange between Khrushchev and a top general, we can leap to the conclusion that Olga was the code name for one of the missiles bound for Cuba.
*today’s offering is an excerpt from “Running of the Chickens” one of the short stories featured in my upcoming tome, One Idiot Short of a Village. In the full version of this story, you will learn the important role secret herbs & spices played in resolving the Cuban missile crisis.
Watching Paint Dry – Part II
I saw my first Donut Ambulance yesterday. Those of you who have a Hurts Donut Company near you may be familiar with their delivery vehicles and the opportunity to have donuts delivered to someone you love (or hate) by a scary clown.
I’m assuming the ambulance contains a couple of Emergency Donut Technicians (EDTs) who can hook up an IV and get a flow of glaze started before your heart collapses from Donut Arrest. Where were these folks when I was writing my essay on Donut Abuse?
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the ringmaster of this 100-word circus is Krusty Kreme Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to join the Purple Insane Mime Posse (P.I.M.P.) sashay over to her blog for instructions. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
I had taken my son Brandon, to a Phillies game. We were headed to our seats when I noticed one of the poles supporting the mezzanine marked with a ‘wet paint’ sign. I froze in my tracks.
Brandon tugged at my arm. “Come on, Dad. We’re missing the game.” But I couldn’t leave that paint to dry alone.
“Go ahead, son. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
I never took my eye off the pole for a single second. By the time Brandon returned four hours later, I could touch it without leaving a fingerprint.
Boy, was I needing to pee.
What we have here is an excerpt from “The Joys of Watching Paint Dry” from my upcoming book, One Idiot Short of a Village. The star of this episode, Perry Block, will also be releasing a book in November. Stay tuned for more shameless self-promotions.
The Shoe Sale
Occasionally, I’ll watch a cooking show on TV. The chef will combine a large number of hard-to-find ingredients then sauté, braise, broil, deep-fry, or bake the delicacy to perfection. It never turns out lopsided, burnt to a crisp, or looking like you scraped it off the road. (They must be using with a different wine.)
My least favorite part of the show is when they sample and rave about how delicious it is. Just once, I’d like to see the chef get a shocked look on his/her face, rush over to the sink, spit out the food, and declare, “Damn, that tastes like shit!” Now, that would be reality cooking at its best.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the Keebler Elf of 100 word stories is Betty “”Wanna” Cracker Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this weekly escapade of madness, waddle over to her hollow tree for instructions. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter
“Did you hear about the sale down at Bunions?” The excitement in Chrissy’s voice bubbled through the phone.
“No, but I love a good sale. A girl can’t have too many shoes.” Bev’s sandal-clad toes wiggled with anticipation.
“Amen, sister. And this is their annual two-for-the-price-of-three sale. They’re also having a hurricane special on a new line of shoes called Irma that are imported from Florida.”
“Wow, this sounds too good to be true.” Bev giggled.
“Yeah, and get this,” Chrissy whispered. “They come pre-molded. They’ll fit in perfectly with the other two hundred pair aging in my closet.”
Crusty
Last week, Linda Apple helped me set up a Facebook account. Like many older adults bordering on senility, I find new technology challenging. Not that Facebook is new—it’s just that I’ve been circling it in fear like a caveman who’s been asked to trade in his trusty spear for a missile launcher. I know it’s a good thing, but I may blow my foot off if I’m not careful.
Several of you have been gracious enough to “Friend” me. You brave souls. So far, I’ve managed two posts and a poke. These have been well received and even garnered an occasional “thumbs up” or a hearty “Ha, ha!” Stay tuned for more social gaffes and clueless moments.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the tiny tadpole troubadour of 100 word stories is Selena Aquafina Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this weekly collage of madness, swim over to her blog for instructions. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Kelvin M. Knight
“Mama, why does Uncle Bobo tear the edges off his bread?”
“He doesn’t like the crust, dear. A lot of people do that.”
“Why? Is it bad for you?”
“Not at all. In fact, the crust contains an antioxidant called pronyl-lysine that can actually reduce the development of pre-cancerous lesions.”
“But if he doesn’t eat the crust, why does Aunt Ellen call him Crusty?”
“Probably because he’s an irritable, cantankerous, short-tempered, peevish old curmudgeon.”
“Oh.” Little Felicity blushed. “And all this time I thought it was because he only changed his underwear twice a year.”
Adventures in Camping
Let’s talk about bumper stickers. Either you love ‘em or hate ‘em, right? I like them best when they’re on the back of someone else’s car. One of my favorites reads; “The weather is here. Wish you were beautiful.”
Other popular options brag about how “Terrific” their kid is or feature images of stick families complete with the pet of their choice. I’m still waiting for one that says; “Free tire wash. Call Fido at Bow-Wow-Whiz.” What are some of your favorites?
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the Icon of 100-word stories is “Tie-Dye” Tootsie Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this weekly collage of madness, head over to her blog for instructions. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
“You’ll never guess what I found today,” said Connie. That sentence always made me nervous. It could mean a stray animal or a portal to another dimension.
“Uh . . . let me guess,” I stammered. “A leprechaun with a pot of gold?”
“Even better than that. We now own a tent. The lady I got it from said they bought it new at Sears. It’s a Hillary*.”
Now, I’ve known people who referred to Bill Clinton’s wife as an old bag, but any canvas tabernacle named after her would more likely be sold at Saks Fifth Avenue than Sears.
* Hillary is a brand of tent named after Sir Edmund Hillary, the first man to reach the summit of Mt. Eveready. From what I hear, the guy just kept going and going . . .
Today’s post is an excerpt from “The Great American Camping Trip.”
Tour Guide at Belton Sanitarium
The Washington County Fair opened yesterday. I suppose the reason they call it a Fair is because it’s only slightly above ho-hum, average at best. It would be nice if they held an exposition that was knock-your-socks-off fantastic, but I guess we don’t want to set the bar too high, now do we?
There are two kinds of weather at the fair—dust and mud. Some years we get both. The fair is always a treat for the senses. Flashing lights, barking carnies, Popcorn, cotton candy, and the scent of fresh vomit beneath the rides. What are some of your favorite memories?
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, our barker of 100 word stories is “One Crayon” Katy Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to win a stuffed teddy bear in this weekly exercise in madness, head over to her blog for instructions. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bulltot
Olive studied the photograph of a middle-aged woman with dark curls wearing a T-shirt and matching high-top sneakers. She had been committed to Belton Sanitarium after being diagnosed with an incurable affliction.
Surveying the overgrown, supposedly haunted ruins, Olive imagined her grandmother, a victim of addiction, imprisoned behind the granite hospital walls.
“Grandpa said they had a hard time finding a straight-jacket small enough to fit her. It must’ve been terrifying,” Olive whispered. “But haunted? Nonsense.”
“Iz es itst, grandoter?”
Olive whipped around in time to see a tiny imp, dressing in purple, vanish like a fart in a whirlwind.
Note – The translation for the Yiddish is “Is it now, Granddaughter?”
They say imitation is the purest form of flattery. That’s my intention this week, as I honor our fearless leader in my own twisted way.
The ?FoneIX and MeTube
I’ve just returned from Little Rock where Dr. John Dornhoffer laid over my right ear and replaced my pea-sized brain with one the size of a marble.
So far, the results have been fantastic (except for the excessive rattling). My muse has returned full force and my wit is sharper and stronger than ever as evidenced by the story below. Now, it is with all modesty and humility I can confidently proclaim to the world that I am indeed “sharp as a marble.”
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, our straight-shooter of 100-word stories is Cateye Aggie Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this weekly exercise in madness, head over to her blog for instructions. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
White House Spokesperson Sarah Huckabee Sanders announced the rollout of a new presidential social media site known as MeTube. The site will be an exclusive feature of the ?FoneIX released by Trump industries later this week.
“This is a YUGE win,” tweeted the President. “With the Why-Phone-Nine and MeTube app, Americans can now read my thoughts before I even tweet them.
“Plus, it’s constructed entirely from recycled materials at our plant in Leavenworth, Kansas by a couple of out of work Americans, namely Obama and Crooked Hillary.
“A gazillion people are camped out on the White House lawn waiting to get theirs.”
Enlightenment
Let’s talk about emotions for a moment. How do you deal with anger? Some people scream and curse, some eat chocolate, others get even. Revenge has never served me well, even when dished out at sub-zero temperatures.
I generally blow off steam by firing up a small gasoline engine, such as a weed-whacker or chainsaw and chopping something to pieces. The noise drowns out even the loudest curse words and the act of dicing weeds or wood into tiny pieces helps diffuse the anger. What works for you?
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, 100-word stories is a good way to vent your frustration. The Sigmund Freud of our online asylum is Dr. Nancy Drew Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this weekly exercise in madness, head over to her blog for instructions. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
“Cleanliness is next to Godliness,” Mama always said.
Calvin wasn’t so sure.
Every Sunday morning, she’d drag him into the bathroom and scrub his elbows, neck, and ears till they glowed beet-red. He didn’t feel any closer to God than if he’d wallowed in a mud hole.
According to the preacher, God loved everybody—even the homeless man who hadn’t had a bath in two years.
Thumbing through Webster’s Junior Dictionary, Calvin made a startling discovery. His adolescent heartbeat quickened and his spirit soared. Mama was wrong. Cleanliness was next to cleavage.
Pass the soap.
Hard Knocks U.
Connie sent me a text this morning stating that she’d stumbled across a list of best humor writers on the internet and that I was rated number sixty-seven. Let’s hope none of those above me are mimes. That would be embarrassing.
I also assume this means “living” humor writers. In which case, I need only track down and systematically eliminate the other sixty-six to improve my rating. C.E. Ayr, if you’re reading this, I’ll be enlisting your services for the next few months. Your retainer is in the mail.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the queen of our international ring of KAOS is Consuela Siegfried, aptly played by the lovely and talented Bernice Kopell Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this weekly exercise in madness, head over to her blog for instructions. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
PHOTO PROMPT© CEAyr
Recruiters frown when seeing Hard Knocks University on resumes.
They are concerned that the new hire will continue to adhere to the failure-equals-success mantra, and in so doing, rise to the ranks of upper management, thus jeopardizing the careers of those in power.
Furthermore, corporate America loves college athletics. How can a university be taken seriously if it doesn’t have a football team?
This may seem unimportant to those who believe academics should be the primary function of a school, but if you’re out on the golf course with the CEO, it’s a BIG DEAL, especially on college game day.
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What's So Funny? 