What's So Funny?
Russell Gayer, author speaker
Happy VD
Here’s a little poem I wrote a few years ago.
Cupid
Although he may be naked
This little imp with wings
Always keeps his knee up
So you won’t see his thing
With his trusty bow and arrow
He’s ready to attack
And turn an unsuspecting woman
Into a raging nymphomaniac
So if you’d like to celebrate
A Happy Valentine’s Day
Put on some romantic music
And a skimpy negligee
And when you’re passion is heating up
And your vision blurred by lust
Remember poor old Cupid
And give him some for us!
On the Way Down
Today’s Friday Flash Fiction post is my take on the photo prompt provided by Madison Woods. Visit her website http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/ and find links to other Friday Flash Fiction stories from authors around the globe.
On the Way Down
Uh, oh. This is gonna hurt.
Slapped in the face by that sad realization that there’s no way I can catch myself. Mother earth is fast approaching.
Arms flailing, cries of desperation pierce the forest in a long, deep moan of slow motion agony. I close my eyes and brace for the inevitable. My nose plows a furrow in the moldy loam beneath the leaves. Instinctively, I look around to see if anyone saw me fall.
What caused me to trip? All I can find is a broken mushroom. No greenbriar, no grapevine, not even an Indian powder-puff.
Stupid mushroom!
Workin’ on a Building
Workin’ on a Building
Sometimes I wonder how Connie talks me into these major projects. Am I extremely gullible, or am I like that little dog on the Looney Tunes cartoon that follows the bulldog around saying, “Can I help Spike? Can I? Huh, huh? Just say the word, Spike—I’ll get right on it.”
When we were young, she would skillfully employ her feminine assets to tempt, tease, or reward me. While there is still a strong allure to those magical powers, I must confess they don’t have the bargaining power they once held.
While I have worked hard to maintain a lifestyle of laziness and procrastination, Connie has earned a master’s degree in salesmanship and persistence. She forges strong arguments as to why we need these things and how much pleasure and enjoyment we will derive once the project is complete.
Presently, we are in the midst of constructing a 564 sq. ft. structure. People ask me, “Why do you need that? And what are you going to use it for?” The answer I’ve been given is that Connie will move some of her treasures out there and hold sales at strategic times throughout the year. This will, of course, will provide the resources to purchase new treasures, thus rotating the stock and stimulating global economic growth.
Everyone agrees that such a magnificent edifice deserves an equally appropriate name. Connie originally referred to the building as her ‘Woman Cave,’ which I quickly revised into ‘The Hen House.’ A title that would be more accurate, but would take up the entire north wall, is ‘Big Mama’s Little House of Horribly Old Stuff.’
Feel free to submit a suggestion, or offer a vote of confidence for one of the names above. Serious consideration will be given to all.
Yesterday, we laid the subfloor and stood the walls on three sides. The goal is to have the metal roof screwed down before I return to work early next week. I’m sure Connie will be posting construction updates on Facebook, and possibly some pictures in the coming days.
In the meantime, I am soliciting donations of BC Powder, Ben Gay ointment, and beer. Your support would be greatly appreciated—especially the beer.
I Hear a Symphony
Today’s Friday Flash Fiction post is my take on the photo prompt provided by Madison Woods. Visit her website http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/ and find links to other Friday Flash Fiction stories from authors around the globe.
I Hear a Symphony
He extended a cupped hand as I exited the train.
Did he expect a tip?
It was the first time I’d ever been approached by a clean-cut, well dressed man asking for a hand-out?
But who was I to judge? Lots of people are out of work. Even the street musicians are barely getting by.
It was an awkward moment for both of us. The sadness in his eyes reaffirmed my suspicions.
Lowering his eyes, he mumbled something about paying the fiddler.
I slipped a ten into his palm and squeezed his hand.
“Here you go, Maestro. Long live classical.”
Superhero
Today’s post is inspired by the weekly photo prompt—provided this week by Susie Lindau. Be sure and visit her web site http://susielindau.com/ to enjoy her 100 word Flash Friday story. Read the comments and follow the links to other stories ranging from excellent to sublime.
The Adventures of Lard Boy
The main concourse appeared three stories above where he now stood. Droplets of sweat crawled behind his mask and stung his eyes.
Time was running out.
Moments before, his arch enemy, Skinny Craig, had texted a photo of Donut, Lard Boy’s sidekick, bound and dangling above a boiling cauldron of decaffeinated coffee—devoid of cream and sugar.
He strained to catch his breath beneath a sweat-soaked cape.
Where was the elevator?
Visions of poor Donut, bobbing in scalding coffee seared his mind.
He would have to take the stairs.
Ravenous pangs gnawed at his stomach. “Better have a snack first.”
Nuts about You
Today’s Friday Flash Fiction post is a tribute to series of cartoon skits known as “Fractured Fairy Tales” and one of my favorite broadcasters, Paul Harvey. I seriously exceeded the 100 word limit, but this story was just dying to be told.
Photo courtesy of Madison Woods http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/
Nuts about You
Dale was known for his creative ideas. What others saw as common and ordinary, he viewed with possibilities and potential.
He plucked the sprouting acorn from his path and rolled it around in both hands. The tender shoot curved like a beckoning finger, triggering an explosion of ideas.
Ice cream. White oak ice cream—what a wonderful idea!
Aware that his marketing skills were woefully lacking, Dale enlisted his best friend to help push the new flavor. It failed miserably.
Bankruptcy soon followed and they were forced to sell the business to a couple of young entrepreneurs named Ben and . . . somebody.
Undeterred by failure, they opened a dance studio for aspiring young men.
Perhaps you’ve heard of them—Chip & Dales?
And now you know . . . the rest of the story.
Today’s post is a poem I wrote several years ago. It seemed to fit well with the photo prompt, provided by Madison Woods for our weekly 100 word #Flash Friday fun. Be sure and visit her blog http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/ each Friday to enjoy her story and find links in the comments to other stories ranging from excellent to sublime.
THE INVITATION
-a modern parable-
Outside the wind gently whispers
Darkness falls across the frozen snow
A lonely redbird is softly singing
Fluffing his feathers against the cold
“Come down, come down,” a voice is calling
“You need not be alone.
Take my hand and warm your body.
Touch my heart and feel at home.”
Cautiously, he drew closer
Stopping just beyond her door
She knelt and reached out to him
But the tiny bird had flown
He didn’t know that he had hurt her
She was only trying to be kind
But how was the bird to realize
That the little girl was blind
Guest blogger Rachel Crofton is back. Yesterday, she read Madison Woods’ blog http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/ and started badgering me to let her post a commentary. Rachel is not a woman of few words, so we had to break it into two or three pieces. Enjoy ~ Russell
Modern Inconveniences – part 1
That loud, off-key, screeching noise you sometimes hear, is me singing the praises of modern science and technology. I’m extremely grateful for all the wonderful appliances, gadgetry, and software aps that have been developed to make my life easier and more comfortable.
They even have artificial intelligence now, which I am told is no match natural born stupidity. It may be in its infancy, but you can be assured scientists will keep working on it until they perfect a version that can write Russell’s blog for him. After all, how much intelligence could that take?
But everything comes with a price—and not just money. What are some of the things we have sacrificed to enjoy the benefits of a “new and better way?” Why are we obsessed with speed? Does faster always mean better?
In today’s society, people are forever in a mad dash from spot to another. If we can shave a few seconds off here and there, then we can cram in more activities, making our lives fuller, thus generating greater happiness, right?
Those of us who have celebrated more than one anniversary of our 39th birthday can remember full-service gas stations. This concept was based on the businessowner’s perception that the customer was “king.” When a car pulled up to the pumps, an attendant would come running out, ask you how much gas you wanted, check under the hood, wash the windshield, put air in the tires, and change the baby’s diaper. The driver left, feeling secure in a safe, well maintained vehicle with a dry baby and a fist full of Green Stamps.
Today’s drivers pull into a convenience store, slam on the brakes, set the stop watch on their iPhone, slide a credit card at the pump, fill the tank, hop back in the car, peel out of the parking lot and check the timer. Anything under four minutes is considered good. Three and a half or less and you’re a superstar.
Upon returning to the highway, our hero becomes stuck in traffic only to move forward one car length at a time. Rather ironic, don’t you think?
The Fingerprint Fly
Today’s post is inspired by the weekly photo prompt (originally from http://nanodeltech.com/), provided by Madison Woods. Be sure and visit her blog http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/ each Friday to enjoy her 100 word #Flash Friday story. Read the comments and follow the links to other stories ranging from excellent to sublime.
The Fingerprint Fly
Crime bosses from around the globe converged in Las Vegas this week for the 54th Annual Gangland Technology Conference.
Vendors and mad scientist demonstrated the latest in electronic gadgetry to a mildly enthusiastic throng of over 6,000 underworld leaders and third-world dictators.
Evidence Eraser LLC, a New Jersey company, debuted “The Fingerprint Fly” (shown below). This tiny engraver confounds forensic experts by duplicating the fingerprints of internationally known celebrities—including this year’s favorite, Charlie Sheen—onto the fingers of common henchmen.
Promoters consider the show a great success. One well-known don from Chicago was quoted as saying, “Dis shitz amazing!”
2011 in Retrospect
2011 was an odd year. In fact, evidence has been uncovered to support the theory that eleven falls somewhere between ten and twelve. Eleven is also a prime number. I guess that is supposed to designate it as ‘special’ since it can only be divided by itself and one. Personally, I find such numerals rather (yawn) boring and refer to them as ho-humbers.
Today, I sit here struggling to find something memorable about 2011. Let’s try the weather. It’s usually a safe subject. I say that only because I once worked with a guy who always asked your thoughts or opinion on a given subject then immediately chose the opposite. He would argue (debate was the word he used) the color of grass, a cloudless sky, and whether fried green tomatoes were fruit or vegetable.
Now, back to the weather.
Our little slice of heaven (Goshen, AR) set new records for cold temperature, snowfall, rain, high temperature, drought, and Republican debates. This is a double-trifecta by my calculations. I wish I could say I had some money riding on this, but who knew there would be so many candidates seeking the nomination.
All of the usual things happened in 2011. People were born, people died, and millions of unfortunate souls were afflicted with (or became) hemorrhoids. Scientists made new discoveries, technology advanced at break-neck speed, and the heavily burdened tax payers were thrown another anchor and told to sink or swim.
On a personal note, I gave birth to my first blog in October. Blogs are different than babies in that the labor pains begin after the birth. Talk about needy! Mine wakes me up at night screaming for new material, photos, and anything else it can scarf down. It constantly clamors for attention and throws little hissy-fits when people read the posts and fail to comment.
The good news is that I’ve become acquainted with other blog parents from around the globe. These wonderful folks have been incredibly supportive and encouraging. Without them, I would have probably put the little guy up for adoption or thrown him in the dumpster. So, thank you one and all.
What 2011 event was special/important to you?
Purchase ‘One Idiot Short of a Village’
Purchase ‘The Perils of Heavy Thinking’
What's So Funny? 