What's So Funny?
Russell Gayer, author speaker
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.
My Daughter, the Writer
For about two and a half decades, our daughter, Greta, has been an avid reader. As a teenager she would devour a 600 page novel faster than Buster (our dog) could eat a Milk Bone doggie biscuit.
Occasionally, she’d share a little something she’d written for a class project or to promote a worthy cause. The examples of her work thatwere always tightly written, witty, and flowed like a friendly conversation. Numerous times I encouraged her to take up writing and become a story teller. She would just roll her eyes and scoff. After all, what do parents know?
Finally, someone else asked her to write an article and it took her about 2 seconds to say yes. Today she became “published.” Needless to say, Dad is very proud. Click on the title . . .
Rhinestones, Madness, and Resurrected Corpses: The Love Story of Tony & Susan Alamo
by Greta P. Allendorf
Body of Evidence
My wife is one of those people who buys a gift for someone then can’t wait to give it to them. It’s like the item is a hot potato and burns a hole in her hands if she holds it too long. Fifteen minutes after arriving home with a present for a future occasion she’ll ask, “Do you think I should give it to them now? They could start enjoying it right away. It’s only two months until their birthday.”
This is a rhetorical question because she’s going to give it to them regardless of what I say. She’s not seeking an opinion, but rather an affirmation to further justify the early gifting. Then, when the appointed occasion does arrive, she’ll buy a second, smaller gift, “Just so they’ll have something to open.”
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the noted philanthropist who can’t wait to post photo prompts three days early is Jean D. Rockefeller 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 © Dale Rogerson
The receptionist led Detective Lowry to the conference room. He hated legal offices. Always too neat, too clean, too well decorated. Beneath the façade of flowers and Lemon Pledge lurked a seedy underbelly that made him want to puke.
The boxes angered him most. Tightly sealed and stacked to the ceiling, they contained tidbits of information held as evidence awaiting the right moment to convict and condemn. Just like his ex-wife.
The prosecutor sat across the table. “We let the mime go.”
“Why? You’ve got fingerprints, face-paint, and a confession.”
“Without the invisible box, we don’t have a case.”
Where’s the Beef?
How many of you suffer from MSNS (Multiple Social Network Syndrome)? Is your day a whirlwind of activity hopping back and forth from Facebook to Pinterest to Instagram and Twitter? Are you so social that there’s no time left for work, play, or dare I say—romance?
I’ve not attended a writers conference yet without hearing at least one speaker tell the audience that we all needed to promote ourselves on multiple forms of social media. I suppose it was inevitable that sooner or later it would become a disease. Now, all we can do is wait for Pfizer, Merck, or Roche to develop a pill to combat this dreaded condition. In the meantime, I suggest you download an app and apply for disability.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, our CEO of 100 Word stories is Marlene Zuckerburg 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 © J Hardy Carroll
Metropolis – a local newspaper reporter for the Daily Planet was arrested yesterday for public indecency and shoplifting.
According to witnesses, the incident occurred near a pay phone inside the Amtrak Rail terminal.
“Sandra and I were waiting for the four-nineteen when this young man wearing a business suit sidled up to the pay phone and began to undress,” said Dale Rogerson.
“He stripped down to a blue spandex jumpsuit that left nothing to the imagination. Sandra looked him over and said, ‘Where’s the beef?’”
Police arrested Clark Kent a short time later near Miller’s Produce stand, where he allegedly stole a large zucchini.
Oh, Deer!
I’m not one to complain about federal employees, but how hard could it be to put letters in the right mailbox? The name and address is printed right there on the front. It seems easy enough when they’re marked Current Resident, Any Street, USA.
But if you’re expecting a check or an acceptance letter from a New York publisher (like that’s gonna happen), the Las Vegas odds are five to three it will be delivered to wrong address. This probably explains why I haven’t heard back from Hollywood concerning the movie rights to One Idiot Short of a Village.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the producer/director of our weekly 100 Word stories is Octavia Preminger 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 © Kent Bonham
“I’ll be happy to process your claim,” said Steve. “Could you give me some details of the accident?”
“We were driving along, a good two miles from the nearest designated deer-crossing, when this brown-haired bimbo chose to disregard the law and dart in front of our car. Then, before anyone could question her, she fled the scene of the accident.
“Connie and I talked about it later and figured Ms. Jane Doe ran away because she didn’t have liability insurance. Sadly, our highways are overrun with uninsured wildlife, Steve.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” Steve bit his lower lip and nodded.
*an excerpt from Saving Hollywood
Jack Be Klutzy
How many of you are familiar with the radio spot, “Cars for the Blind?” In their ad, a spokesperson asks listeners to consider donating unwanted cars, trucks, buses, mini-vans, and stretch limousines to the blind. They’ll even take motorboats, yachts, and cruise ships if you happen to have one of those lying around.
Now, I’m not the kind of guy who discriminates against the disabled, but let me ask you, how many blind drivers do we really need on the highway? We’ve already got teenagers texting, ladies putting on mascara, and cops fantasizing about their next donut. It’s enough to make you want to have a few drinks before jumping into crosstown traffic.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, our solicitor of 100 Word stories is Helen Keller Andretti 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 copyright – Janet Webb
“Hey, Jill. Hold my beer while I try this.”
“No, Jack. Please. Remember what happened last time?”
“That was purely a fluke. It could happen to anyone.”
“What about the time before that, and the incident last week.”
“Just a little string of bad luck. Anyone could slip while carrying a pail of water. As I recall, you fell down also.”
“Only because you tripped me.”
“Are you saying I’m not agile?”
“It’s not your fault. You were born with two left feet.”
“Just hold the beer. I can do this.”
“Okay, but let me call the fire department first.”
Within the Lines
If you’re a school-age child, there’s a brief window of time each year known as summer vacation. Some view it as temporary parole, but in my case more apt terminology would have been Work Release Program.
My dad began the countdown a month before school ended. He busied himself preparing and planning activities to occupy my time and to protect me from restlessness or boredom. While hoeing two-acre truck patches or shoveling manure, I would often long for the company of my cellmates and the hard, cold concrete walls where we were institutionalized nine months of the year. Summer was no vacation.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, our 100 Word straw-boss is Oholibamah 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 © Claire Sheldon
Root Elementary School operated a supply store on the premises. This is where I received my first academic lesson involving the human anatomy.
The size of one’s fingers and hands is inversely proportioned to the size of the required writing instrument. For example, if you have fists like King Kong, your pencil should be no thicker than a toothpick. However, if you have fingers like Tinker Bell, you’re forced to use crayons the size of a baseball bat.
How they expected us to color within the lines when we couldn’t see the paper for the crayon was beyond me.
*the above is an excerpt from “Dragonslayer” in The Perils of Heavy Thinking.
Dumb as a Rock
Yesterday, I went to the store with the intention of buying three specific items. I took a list. This is a tool people my age use when they can’t remember what they had for breakfast. Just for the record, I had sausage, or ham, or maybe bacon. With egg and cheese on an English muffin, or a biscuit, or was it toast? Who cares? The point is, I had a list!
A list may sound confining, but mine was filled with freedom. I could add up to eight more items and still qualify for the Express Lane. Naturally, I took advantage of this by adding a few non-essentials like cookies, potato chips, and beer. After a two-hour ordeal in the Express Lane, I finally made it home with my purchases.
“Where are the three items I asked you to pick up?” said Connie, after rummaging through the Fast & Friendly bags. “I thought you had a list.” ~ OY!
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, our expert on 100 Word memory joggers is Alexis Trebek 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 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
I began growing dumber the moment our children turned 13. This rapid declined continued until I achieved the status, “Dumber than a rock.”
When dealing with rocks, I’ve discovered they are extremely stubborn. I tried praise and encouragement. The rock refused to budge. When that didn’t work, I resorted to screaming, cursing and name-calling.
After pondering the intellect of rocks, I came to the conclusion they are not stupid, just strong-willed.
Teenagers may think they have all the answers, but they’ll find it’s like banging their head against a stone wall when they try to match wits with a rock.
Road Trip
To those of us living in the northern hemisphere, today marks the summer solstice—the longest day of the year. I know what you’re thinking. The longest day in history occurred when you and your spouse got into a fight on that cross-country road trip. Yep, driving 782 miles in frigid silence can make for a long, long day. Not the best way to start a two-week honeymoon.
On the other hand, we’ve all experienced extremely short days that we wished would last for a hundred years. I’d love you hear your recollection of an especially long or short day.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the person who waves the green flag to start our weekly 100 Word race is none other than Danica “Cow Patty” 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 © Ted Strutz
There’s an icon on the dash that indicates when the tank is almost empty. The flashing red light really seems to annoy Brad.
He immediately flies into a tirade about how we’re going to be late, followed by an extended period of prayer in which he begs the fumes to holdout until we get to the nearest gas station.
I really think he should plan better and allow more time, but the last time I mentioned it he glared at me with fiery eyes and clenched teeth.
He doesn’t take suggestions well when he’s pushing a car in the rain.
* an excerpt from Peeves I Like to Pet
Greenhouse Gases
How many of you read the obituaries? Connie thinks I have a morbid curiosity because I like to know who’s still among the living and who’s not. Sometimes you find out fascinating things about total strangers. So far, none of them have bequeathed me a million dollars.
I’ll be reading one of these interesting epitaphs out loud and Connie will ask, “How did they die?” (Like, I’m supposed to know.) “It doesn’t say,” I reply, “but they were only ninety-six, so let’s assume it was in the throes of passion.”
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, our 100 word embalmer who prepare the weekly photo prompt for viewing is Morticia 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 © Sarah Potter
“This is where you’ll be sleeping tonight,” I point to a cot. “And remember, no sparks or open flames.”
“I drive all the way from Pennsylvania and you make me sleep in this dump?” Perry tossed his duffel bag in the direction of a folding chair.
“Hey, you volunteered. Go green, you said. Avoid dangerous pesticides. Don’t harm the environment.”
“I should’ve known something was up when you and Connie kept shoving brown beans, sweet potatoes, and broccoli in front of me at dinner.”
“It’s just for one night. Once you’ve exterminated the insects here, you’ll move to the garage.”
Purchase ‘One Idiot Short of a Village’
Purchase ‘The Perils of Heavy Thinking’
What's So Funny? 