What's So Funny?
Russell Gayer, author speaker
Lower Learning & Bad Manners
I was doing a little research today on things that annoy people. I’ll be attending the Oklahoma Writers Federation conference in OK, City this weekend and want to make sure I’m on top of my game when I roar into town. Thankfully, there’s a website dedicated to this task http://www.getannoyed.com/
You won’t believe the things that irritate some people (or maybe you would). Here’s an example; “People that interrupt you when you’re telling a story and then they continue to tell you their story and then ask you in an uninterested tone to continue on with your story when they are finished talking.” Does that sound like anyone you know?
Feel free to share your personal Pet Peeves in the comments section. Maybe I could learn some new techniques for this weekend.
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, the little Purplelidite who can calm even the most frayed nerves is Lavender Chamomile 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 writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
Is your child too intelligent?
Are they kind, attentive, and respectful?
Do they fail to embarrass you in public?
If so, join the hundreds of satisfied parents who’ve enrolled their children in the Blackwell Institute for Lower Learning and Bad Manners.
In just a few short weeks, we’ll transform your sweet, goody-two-shoes angel into the hateful, self-centered demon you’ve always dreamed of.
Our rude, foul-mouthed students master manipulative behaviors such as lying, cheating, and bullying without the least hint of social conscience or accountability.
Ninety-eight percent of Blackwell graduates advance to highly successful careers in government and politics.
Go bad. Go Blackwell.
Zombies of the Old West
I’ve discovered a new talent. I can predict when traffic lights are going to turn red. It’s simple actually. If I’m approaching a light, even if it’s just turned green, it will automatically turn red prior to my vehicle reaching the intersection.
If I’m sitting at a red light, the same rule holds true for drivers approaching the intersection from my left or right. It’s all part of the Secretary of Transportation’s new policy to help fulfill one of Donald Trump’s campaign promises, “Make America Late Again.”
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, our 100 traffic cop (who is in no way a woman of few words when engaged in a verbal conversation) is Maddie Blythe 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 writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young
Carl shuffled through the swinging doors. Gray-faced and hollow-eyed, he made his way to the bar.
“What’ll ya have, stranger?” The words crawled from the bartender’s mouth and clung to a string of drool dangling from his lips.
“Formaldehyde. And make it a double.”
“Staying long in Purgatory?”
“Not any longer than I have to.” Carl moaned. “I’m just in town for the apocalypse.”
“You and ten thousand others,” said the bartender, picking at the decaying flesh below his right eye. “One piece of advice; stay upwind from the crowd. Old cowboys never die. They just smell that way.”
Don’t Take Me Literary
If you’re fortunate enough to own a copy of The Perils of Heavy Thinking, you already know that “Classic” is just a fancy word for “Old.” This explains why guys like JB Hogan prefer to be called a “Classic Geezer” as opposed to using the other adjective.
“Classic” is also gender friendly. When referring to the gentler sex, I recommend using it as a noun, as in “She’s a Classic.” This allows the reader to inject any word of their choosing at the end of the statement to more clearly define the female in question.
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, our 100 word guru is Confuse-us Yogini 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 writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Magaly Guerrero
The Resource Center contained a series of primitive publications. People of my generation refer to them as books.
I scanned the shelf expecting to find works by Patrick McManus, Dave Barry, and that guy from Arkansas who thinks he’s so funny. None were there.
A couple of books did catch my attention. One by the Brothers Grimm, whom I surmised went on to become famous reapers, and another by person named Longfellow.
By the sound of his name, I concluded he was either a very tall individual or a porn star. Either way, I’m not sure the content would be appropriate for impressionable young minds.
The Days of Whine and Moses
Tomorrow is Connie’s birthday—and it’s The Big One. This will be the thirty-ninth anniversary of the day she turned twenty-one. How she can still look so young and attractive while I’ve just gotten old is amazing to me.
What do you get for the woman who has everything? One year I got her a lawnmower, another time it was a garden tiller. She already has one of those fancy two-wheel, wheel barrows. Perhaps she’d like a new barbeque grill. What’d you think?
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, our expert on 100-word gifts is Betty Boop 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 writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
Young Herschel curled his upper lip and chewed as if he were taste-testing a dried cow patty.
“You call this a feast?” Breadcrumbs spewed from his open mouth as he spoke. “I can’t believe you got lost in the deli and spent the next forty minutes wandering around looking for milk and honey. Then, you come home with week-old pizza, a salad made from thistles, and sour wine that reeks of vinegar.”
“We’re celebrating our heritage, son.” His mother feigned a wry smile.
“Oh, I remember. The Feast of Unleavened Cardboard.”
“Yes, and your liberation from electronic devices.”
“But Mommm!”
The Valet of the Shadow
One thing you can say about the number of people using cellphones in their cars is that you don’t see as many nose-pickers at stop lights as you did ten years ago. In those days, every traffic light featured two or three motorist with a finger crammed up a nostril to the second joint. The way they were going at it, you’d have thought they were digging for gold.
If you’ll notice today, even those drivers texting or surfing the web have their mouths open. This is due to their nostrils being packed more tightly than the noses on Mount Rushmore. President Trump is taking credit for the creation of new jobs, known as “Schnozzola Sweeps,” caused by this malady. According to the AMA, those with particularly large noses can expect to see an increase in insurance premiums.
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, our resident expert on all-things-olfactory is Jenny Durante 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 writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Jellico’s Stationhouse
The gloomy weather made it tough finding work. Prospective clients were continually in a foul mood. They went to bed grumpy and woke up more irritable than a hapless playboy who’d prefer to gnaw off his own arm rather than risk waking an unsightly bed partner.
The residents of Bellingham moved about as in a trance, a gray world where nothing was real. Even the shadows were artificial. Sunshine was rationed in anemic proportions.
Things got so bad, he was forced to hold a cardboard silhouette of Mr. Strutz’ bicycle and trot along beside the rider.
Love at First Squint
A grocery store chain in our area has a private label brand called Fit & Active. I’ve tried a few of the products designed for “a healthier you” (the Devil’s Food Cookies are amazing) and found them to have no impact on my waistline or energy level. The only thing that got lighter was my wallet.
You don’t need a Gallop poll to tell you there are more fat people in America than skinny ones. Who’s catering to the people who want to be overweight and lay around doing nothing? That’s why I’m proposing the Unfit & Idle brand. These tasty carb-laden snacks make your body produce more serotonin, a brain chemical that induces a mild state of euphoria known as Carb-coma—making you feel happy yet groggy at the same time. How sweet is that?
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, the little fit-to-be-tied author with an overactive imagination who ramrods this show is Louise Clairol 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 writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria
Heads turned as she sashayed down the pier. Ebony hair pulled into a tight bun, button-nose thrust toward the sky, she projected an aura of self-confidence. Old tars looked up from their work. Young sailors dropped their nets, mouths agape.
“She’s a perfect fifty-seven,” quipped a squint-eyed salt, admiring her lithe figure. “Nineteen, nineteen, nineteen.
“Hiya,” he calls. “You know you’re awful pretty!”
“You’re pretty awful yourself.”
“What’s your name, Sweetie?”
“Olive Oyl.”
(under his breath) “Sounds like some kind of lubricant.
And what’s that wee thing tagging behind you?”
“My niece, Violet Oyl”
(under his breath) “Good thing I gots me snake boots on.”
A-gah-gah-gah-gah-gah-gah!
Don’t Fence Me Out
I hate to admit this, but I have something in common with Donald Trump. I recently won a Presidential Election against a female candidate who was far more competent and qualified than me. My appointments include; Chevy Chase, Sec. of Slapstick, Bill Murray, Sec. of De Fence, and my personal Press Secretary, Perry Block. What could possibly go wrong?
When I joined Toastmasters, I thought the name implied a drinking club, but all they want to do is talk. Maybe I had them confused with that other group, Alcoholics Monogamous. However, I’m not going to let that interfere with my campaign promise, Make America Laugh Again.
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, the inquisitive little detective who always solves the mystery in 100 words or less is 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 writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
“Al, you’ve got to do something.”
“What do you think I should do?”
“I don’t know, put up a wall or something.”
“That would cost Kansas City a lot of money, and I’m not sure how effective it would be.”
“It doesn’t need to be a huge wall. A short fence would do. Ever since you invented the Internet we’ve had nothing but trouble. At first it was just once a week, but now it’s out of control. The entire blogosphere is at risk.”
“Oh, come on, Tipper, don’t be so melodramatic. How much damage can one purple-obsessed pygmy do?”
BIG Time
On my way home yesterday, I received a blessing (and I’m not even Catholic). A man driving a flat-bed truck had lost a rear wheel in the middle of Don Tyson Parkway. I stopped to see if I could be of any assistance, but two young black men had already arrived to save the day.
These guys were wearing baggy pants, hoodies, and sunglasses—not your typical angel attire—but I’m sure to the guy needing help they appeared to swoop down from heaven on folded wings bearing lug wrenches of gold. The miracle was seeing this happen in a city that was a “Sundown Town*” during my childhood. Maybe there’s hope for the human race after all.
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, our resident angel (who never worked for Charlie) is Sabrina Duncan 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 writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast
A Tale of Two Dawns
“Well, hello,” said the brunette. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
The redhead grinned. “You don’t think we’ve been set up, do you?”
“It looks that way.” The brunette smiled and repositioned her sunglasses atop of her head.
“What did he promise you?”
“He said he’d been having lingering visions. Appearing here would introduce a new audience to my writing. I’d hit the BIG Time.”
“Pretty much the same line he fed me. Kept repeating tales from the motherland and insisted I click the clown’s nose.”
“I can’t believe he used us like this.”
“Oh, he’ll pay—BIG Time.”
* Sundown Town refers to signs that were posted stating that colored people had to leave the town by sundown.
The Joy of Watching Paint Dry
For someone who doesn’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen, I pride myself on being able to whip up a good mess. Since I don’t have any formal training, this must be a God-given talent. All I have to do is enter the room and the counters go from pristine to a disaster area in 4.9 seconds.
Some of those who’ve witnessed my creations suggested I launch my own cooking show, “Wrecking with Russell,” on cable TV. While I’m flattered by their faith in my ability to trash an entire room in an attempt to boil water, I’m told the show would cost far too much to produce due to the excessive staff required for clean up.
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, the retired cake decorator who never let a dollop of icing hit the counter is Betty Crocker 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 writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma
“Perry, you and JB attended the Pre-Paint-Drying Banquet last night. Is there one player who might come from out of nowhere to pull an upset?”
“Any of these four could win it. But keep an eye on ‘Plain Jane’ Jones. If she performs with the same level of energy and passion she displayed in my hotel room, she’ll blow this thing wide open. That is, if she’s not too exhausted from last night.”
“Perry, surely you don’t mean—”
“That’s right, Willard. She painted all four walls AND the ceiling. We spent the next six hours just watching it dry.”
*an excerpt from “The Joys of Watching Paint Dry.”
Scab Bloggers
How many of you have seen the commercial that starts with the “Real People, Not Actors” disclaimer? What they’re really saying is the advertiser was too cheap to hire a professional spokesperson. Instead they rounded up a few stragglers from a Walmart parking lot and gave them each a hundred dollar bill to “Oouu” and “Ahh” over their product.
What would happen if our Fairy Blog Mother did the same here? Imagine if you will, Friday Flash Fiction stories penned by scab writers instead of highly talented authors. No Sandra, no C.E., dare I say, no Dawn? Even The Reclining Gentleman would get up and walk away.
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, the professional spokesperson who will promise you a 15% savings on your next 100 words is Jamie Lee 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 writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Critiquing Fiction with C.E. Ayr
Go, Jan, go!
See Jan go.
“Spot, spot, wait for me,” cried Dale.
Plenty of action, but too many repetitive words. Also, no sense of place. Where are we—the beach, on a treadmill? Furthermore, the copy is fraught with typos. The correct spelling is S-T-O-P.
See Fido run.
Fido bit Fluffy.
“Bad Fido, bad,” said Jan.
Add some internalization. How did Fluffy feel? Invoke the senses. Has Fido rolled in something dead? What does Fluffy’s fur taste like?
In this example, I’ve pointed out some of the most obvious flaws.
What suggestions could you offer to improve this story?
Purchase ‘One Idiot Short of a Village’
Purchase ‘The Perils of Heavy Thinking’
What's So Funny? 