33-Word Trifecta Writing Challenge: The Sun’s Summer Fun

Hello Dear Readers!  Well it’s time for the 33-word, weekend Trifecta Challenge. If you haven’t tried the Trifecta Writing Challenges yet, you should!   They are so much fun and a great way to hone your writing skills.  Today the Trifecta Challengers have asked us to write 33 words describing summer. 

The Sun’s Summer Fun

Sun looks innocent

Sun shines rays in eyes of kid eating Popsicle until kids trips and drops Popsicle

Sun chuckles

Sun shines rays to dry kid’s tears

Sun goes back to looking  innocent

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

Time for Our Weekly Creepy Seventies Fix

Hello Dear Readers!  First of all Happy Flag Day!  And for those of you who are from parts of the world where it isn’t Flag Day, don’t feel bad, Flag Day isn’t that much fun.

So anyway, before we begin today’s festivities, let’s all stand for the Pledge of Allegiance:

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America

And to the republic for which it stands,

One Nation

Under God

Indivisible

With Liberty and Justice for All

(Did you stand up?  Either did I.)

Okay, now on to our Weekly Creepy Seventies Fix, where we look at pictures from the seventies that make us shudder and feel slightly sick to our stomachs because they are so weird and creepy.

It’s the kind of perverse pleasure only the Seventies can provide!

Today we’ll be making fun of this treasure from 1970:

Creepy and Weird Seventies Remodeling Book

Well, honey, I like the new Seventies kitchen remodel, sure, but where will we put our books?

“I’m so glad father made this bookshelf under the counter only accessible to six-year-olds . . . ah! Here it is, sis, that book I was telling you about, Atlas Shrugged.

Nothing epitomized a Seventies carefree childhood like a random ladder to nowhere.

“Come on Bobby! Climb up, it’s fun!”
“Shut up Robbie! You know people with peg legs can’t climb ladders.”

And no Seventies bathroom remodel worth it’s weight in Mr. T gold chains was complete without a primitive seventies tanning bed.

“Honey! HELP!
“What’s the matter now?”
“I’m fused to the tanning bed!”
“Again?”

And of course, every Seventies remodel had to feature a pool made out of horrendous “bricks of the seventies!”

“Please go in swimming with me, Morris.”
“Forget about it, lady, cats hate to swim.”
“But we put in this pool just for you, Morris!”
“Cry me a river, Mrs. Schmuckerson.”

How very Frank Lloyd Wrong of you, Dear!

Hey honey! Look what I built while you were away at your plant-hanger macrame symposium! And remember that placenta we saved from our last kid? I made that into a placenta floral arrangement for the coffee table! How do you like it honey? Honey where are you going?

I don’t know . . . but I’m walking out of the seventies and I’m never coming back.

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

Screw It Monday: Aliens Secretly Study Humanity

Hello Dear Readers and welcome to Screw It Monday where we don’t do anything at all.  Today, we’ll take a look back through the archives of this blog and pull out something from the bottom.  (Please ignore the mildew!) This is called:

Aliens Secretly Study Humanity Under the Guise of a 1960′s Sandwich Cookbook.

I know it’s hard to believe, Dear Readers, but after carefully examining the above peculiarly- worded cookbook from the 1960′s – it quickly became apparent to me that this is not a cookbook at all, but, in actuality, is a scientific study of the human race conducted by aliens from the planet Zorin!

Shall we turn to the first page? 

Sandwiches for the Small Fry

As you can see by this heading, the aliens are going to great pains to make us believe that they have full command of English language idioms.  Apparently they think these children are idioms.  Apparently they think the entire human race are idioms!

The aliens go on to explain to their fellow Zorinians that sandwiches in the small fry’s  “carried lunch”  should be “made of bread” and that fruit should be eaten out of  the small fry’s “hands” and that “milk should be sent from home in a small vacuum bottle”. 

The aliens stressed that Zorinians should not confuse  ”Small Frys”  with “small order of fries” even though both are equally delicious.

Let us move on (quickly!):

 Taste Tempters for Teens

After much concentrated  study, the aliens have ascertained that this is a fair representation of  the typical eating behavior of the human “teen”.  And they go on to state that “teen-agers are a mystery”  — adding that “boy or girl their appetites are immense” even “staggering.”   The report emphasizes that  human “teenagers” have a “bottomless appetite” and an “endless thirst.”  Information that probably raised a Zorinian eyebrow or two (or seven).

 

Next the aliens attempt to enlighten Zorinians about the mystifying behavior of:

Picnic Packables:

As you can see from this heading, when  it comes to alliteration, the aliens are definitely on-board the human-language train!  Even going so far as to use the word, “packables”.  Well they aren’t billions of years more advanced than us for nothin’!

At first, the aliens were in total disarray as to what the father figure pictured above was doing.  But after intensified study,  the aliens came to the conclusion that this particular human being’s lower appendages had collapsed by a whopping fifty percent (perhaps from carting around Picnic Packables?) and when that happens, human beings must squeeze a circular object with their ”hands” for prolonged periods of time in order to restore proper appendage positioning.  The Zorinians got a good laugh out of this one!

Well that’s all we have time for today, Dear Reader, but rest assured there are plenty more Secret Studies by Zorinians about the Human Race hiding within the pages of 1960 cookbooks and I plan to expose every single one of them or be abducted trying!

That is my pledge to you.

Until next time . . . I love you

The Bible According To Gregory: Joseph the Most Annoying Little Brother in the Bible

Welcome Dear Readers to this Sunday’s edition of the Bible according to Gregory.

Let’s listen in and see what Gregory learned in Sunday School this morning shall we?

Joseph, The Most Annoying Little Brother in the Bible

Jacob, one of the characters in the bible whose name pops up on every other page, became the father of his son, Joseph, when he was a very old man.

Jacob had a lot of sons already via his two favorite concubines Bilah (Billie) and Zilpah (Zillie).

By the time Joseph was 17, his dad, Jacob, made his son, Joseph, go tend the goats and sheep with all his other less favorite sons, whats-their-names.

Daddy Jacob, had a fancy robe with puff sleeves made for his favorite little dumpling, Joey, while all his other brothers had to wear the standard-issue,  biblical-burlap shepherd shorts.

Add to that, the fact that Joseph kept running into his father’s tent to tattle on his older brothers every five minutes, and Joseph was setting himself up for trouble with a capital ξ.

One day, Joseph had a dream and told  his brothers about it — mistakenly thinking, as most spoiled brats do, that everybody and their goat wanted to hear about it.

“Hey brothers!  Guess what I dreamed?” Joseph said to his brothers one day. “We were all in the field tying up sheaves when MY sheaf stood up straight and YOUR sheaves made a circle around it and bowed down to it! (Joseph would have added nanny nanny, but goading hadn’t been invented yet.)

Joseph didn’t even notice the collective “why I oughta” grimaces on his brothers’ faces and launched right in to another dream he had.  “I had another dream in which I saw the sun, the moon and the eleven stars bowing down to me. (Obviously Daddy Jacob hadn’t even made little Joey do his astronomy homework.)

One day, Jacob’s brothers had to go to Shecham to attend the annual Old Testament Sheep and Goat Symposium and Jacob sent his son, Joseph, to follow them and tattle on them if the brothers did anything that would be catagorized under  what happens in Shecham stays in Shecham.

When Joseph’s brothers saw their annoying little brother coming, they were sitting around eating sandwiches and quickly made a plan to kill him.  But the brother named, Reuben (who had made the sandwiches, btw)  suggested they merely throw Joseph into a dry well instead of actually killing him because Reuben was a big ol’ softie when it came to killing little brothers.

So that’s exactly what the brothers did after ripping off the puff sleeves of Joseph’s designer robe and using them for napkins.  Then they went back to eating their sandwiches and taking turns coming up with the funniest scenarios to explain to their father how his cute lil’ Joey came to an untimely demise.

As luck would have it, Joseph’s brother, Judah, watched as a camel caravan of  Ishmaelites just happened to be passing by, and a fiery torch went off in his head because — that’s right –light bulbs hadn’t been invented yet.

“Hey Ishmael!”  Judah shouted and every single person in the caravan looked over because all those  Ishmaels weren’t called the Ishmaelites for nothing.

“How’s about buying  our cute, adorable little baby brother, here?”

And that’s where we’ll have to leave it for this week,  Dear Readers. But be sure to check in next week at this same time to find out how much they sold Joseph for and how Joseph’s brothers won at the gambling table with the money and  got enough to buy Joseph a multi-colored coat.  (Or something like that).

Until next time . . . I love you

“Oy! That’s all that’s left of my little Joey? But what happened to the puff sleeves?”
I don’t know, Dad, we just looked around and he was gone . . .ask anybody named Ishmael, and he’ll tell you the same thing!”

Wednesday is the New Friday!

Hello Dear Readers.  Well, if this is Wednesday, it must be Friday. Because at this blog, Wednesdays are the new Fridays! 

That’s because Rochelle Wisoff-Fields over at Addicted to Purple is the gracious hostess of Friday Fictioneers even though she doesn’t serve refreshments (that I know of) — where writers are inspired to write  a 100-word story based on the weekly posted picture.  Here’s this week’s picture:

window-dressing-janet-webb.jpg

Louise Goes on a Date

But Louise, how could you borrow a Pietro Pairajelli dress from your place of work to wear to the movies with Howard?

“Well, I didn’t know we’d get robbed waiting in line, and they’d steal the Pietro Pairajelli and Howard’s toupee — the only two things we had of value.  I had to watch the movie in my slip, Betty, and poor Howard caught pneumonia and died.”

“From the draft on his head?”

“Uh huh.  And now I’ll be fired.”

“Wait! Isn’t that the Pietro Pairajelli over there on the fire escape, Louise?”

“Yes!”

You’re the luckiest person on earth, Louise!

“I know, huh.”

* * *

And there you have it Dear Readers.  This week’s story came in at 104 words no matter how much I tried to cram it into 100 — some stories just refuse to cooperate!

Until next time . . . I love you

What the Scientists Are Thinking

Why Can’t Penguins Fly?

“Uhhhh . . . Duhhhhhhhh . . . Uhhhhhhhh. . . .

In an impressive display of synchronized head scratching, a team of Canadian scientists led by Kyle Elliot at the University of Manitoba in Winnipeg have been scientifically wondering why penguins can’t fly to the point that the scientists’ scalps were getting sore.

So the team devised a plan to figure out why penguins just stand there looking dumb instead of flying off somewhere.   First, the researchers injected isotope-tagged water into cormorants. (Yay! they finally got to use the isotopes on the cormorants!).  Oh what fun they had!  Then, the scientists got to enter the data they collected onto spreadsheets using the cool, new laptops they bought out of the Canadian Endowment for  Flightless Penguins grant money.

And what did the team of scientists conclude?  According to Robert Ricklefs an ornithologist at the University of Missouri-St Louis — who managed to shove his way to the front of the team when the press showed up — explains, “Basically, penguins had to reduce their wings and grow larger to improve their diving.”

Or, translated into laymen’s terms, penguins can’t fly because they’re too fat and their wings are too small.

UN Urges People to Eat Insects to Fight World Hunger

Over 2 billion people worldwide already supplement their diets with insects. A few of them on purpose.

A new report by the UN Food and Agriculture Organization has concluded that eating more insects could help boost nutrition, reduce pollution and prevent starvation.

The UN Report admits that “consumer disgust” remains a large barrier in many Western countries but point out that insects are extremely efficient in converting feed into edible meat with a low carbon footprint.

The report suggests that the food industry could help in “raising the status of insects” by including them in new recipes. And suggested that restaurants could also help by getting rid of their cockroach infestation problems by simply adding them to the menu.

Fist Clenching Helps Memory

Tobogin . . yes
Spaceship . . . yes
Soda cracker . . . wrong!

A team of researchers has recently accidentally discovered that research subjects who are trying to recall a long list of words remembered them better when they clenched their fists.  Scientists have concluded that fist clenching helps people remember.

However, scientists suspect that subjects will be even better able recall long lists of words even faster,  if it’s the scientists who are clenching their own fists and holding them up in a menacing fashion next to the noses of the subjects who are trying to recall long lists of words.

Naturally more research will have to be done.  Scientists are currently on the lookout for funding for a study on how easily a group of subjects can recall a long list of words having just emerged from being knocked out for the count of ten by scientists.

Scientists readily admit they will have to spend way more time at the gym before a study of this nature can be undertaken.

And there you have it Dear Readers, your weekly update on what the Scientists are thinking!

Until next time  . . . I love you

The Bible According to Gregory: The Ten Commandments

Welcome, Dear Readers, to this Sunday’s edition of the The Bible According to Gregory.

Let’s listen in and see what Gregory learned in Sunday school this morning, shall we?

The Ten Commandments

One bright shiny biblical morning, the Lord said to Moses, “Cut two stone tablets like the first ones, and I will write on them the words that were on the first tablets you broke. (Moses was all thumbs.)

So Moses cut two stone tablets and  lugged them all the way up to the top of Mount Sinai (the Lord’s favorite mountain).

Hey Hey You You Get Offa My Cloud!

The Lord came down in a cloud and stood with Moses, and the Lord pronounced his holy name which was pronounced “The Lord” and said to Moses, “I, the Lord, am a god who is full of compassion . . . but I will not fail to punish children and grandchildren to the third and fourth generations for the sins of their parents.” (The Lord was fond of starting his conversations with Moses in the middle of a thought.)

“I know you’re the Lord because you’re the only one I know who drives a cloud, ha ha!.”  Is what Moses might have wanted to say as well as point out to the Lord that keeping track of all the kids of all those sinning great-grandparents was going to be a real headache.

But the Lord was already onto the His next topic.  “I, the Lord, am going to do an awesome thing for you.”

“For Moi, Moses?”

“Oui ! Si! Ja! Da!” said the Lord who was toying with some new languages.

The Lord Smites the “ites”.

Then the Lord began listing all those he would drive out of their homes so his favorite kid, Moses and his friends could move in.  Moses knew from past experience that this was going to take a while, so he pulled up a rock and  began cleaning his fingernails with the hem of his robe.

“There’s the Amorites, the Canannites,” the Lord began “and the Hitites, the Perizzites, the Hivites and Amorites . . wait I already said them . . . I mean the . . . uh . . . “

The Israelites?” Moses piped up.

“No, you guys are the Israelites, Moses!”

“Oh! Ha ha I knew that, I was just testing you.”

“No I , the Lord, am trying to think of that other tribe  . . .oh . . . what’s the name of those peoples?  It’s on the tip of my Almighty Tongue . . . “

“I’ll bet it ends with an  “ite”!  Moses quipped.

The Lord shot Moses a look that said “One more crack like that and I’m replacing you as my favorite kid.”

I, the Lord, hope you’re writing all this down, Moses

Then the Lord started dictating a long list of covenants that Moses began chiseling into the stone tablets.  And he found he was actually able to keep up rather nicely and commended himself for having the wherewithal to take that Shorthand for Hebrews correspondence course last summer during the Great Sheep Industry Lull of Minus 2347.

Moses speed chiseled everything the Lord said for 20 days and 20 nights, and spent the following 20 days and 20 nights re-reading everything back to the Lord for accuracy.

Unfortunately for Moses, the Lord was so involved in what he was saying, he completely forgot to offer Moses anything to eat or drink  –  scholars believe this is because the Lord  wasn’t keen on doing his own cooking and snacks hadn’t been invented yet.

The face that would have launched a thousand ships if they would have had any (ships, that is).

About the time everyone was giving up on ever seeing Moses again, here he came skiing down Mount Sinai (by now it was winter) carrying the Ten Commandments.

But everyone was afraid to go near Moses because they saw that his face was shining, either from having taken a couple of face plants in the snow (Moses was a horrible skier) or because he had been talking with the Lord for 40 days and nights.

Either way, Moses had to wear a veil over his face for the rest of his life whenever he talked to anyone except the lord because everybody found the shine from his face to be hugely distracting and sunglasses hadn’t been invented yet.

And there you have it, Dear Readers, this week’s edition of the Bible According to Gregory.

Until next time . . . I love you

Photo credit: Illustrators of the 1897 Bible Pictures and What They Teach Us by Charles Foster from wiki images

33-Word Trifecta Writing Challenge: Carla Kinda Confesses

Hello Dear Readers!  It’s time for the Trifecta Weekend Challenge which is to write a thirty-three word confession.

Carla Kinda Confesses

“Hey, where’d the donut go?”

“How should I know?”

“Oh no, Carla! Please tell me you didn’t eat it!”

“I didn’t eat it!”

“Thank god because it had rat poi–”

“Carla? Carla? Carla?”

Until next time . . . I love you

Trifecta Writing Challenge: I Hate You Becky Slater

Hell Dear Readers! It’s time for the Trifecta Writing Challenge!  Today’s word is the third definition of pedantic:  unimaginative, pedestrian

I Hate You Becky Slater

Becky Slater threw a high-pitched giggle across the counter at me.  I sighed and kept folding the newly arrived baby tees imprinted with a pacifier and the proclamation “I Suck!” emblazoned across the front.

“Hey girlfriend,” Becky began, “you’re never going to believe what happened last night while I was walking Spunkers! I thought I’d die!”

“If only!” I said under my breath and then checked myself.  Poor Becky couldn’t help who she was or what she was.  I imagined Becky’s mother dropping her on her head while giving her high levels of radiation and simultaneously force feeding her lead.” Yup, that would explain Becky alright.  I lingered on the thought.

“So, anyways, girlfriend, I’m walking Spunkers when this fire-engine guy goes by with his siren on, sees me and honks!  He was hitting on me on the way to a fire!  I was so embarrassed!  It was super pedantic!”

I hate you Becky I wanted to say but instead I said, “Uh . . . I think you might be using the word pedantic wrong, Becky. Pedantic means pedestrian.”

Becky giggled two octaves above middle C.  “Shut the hell up, girlfriend!   Tell me something I don’t know! I was the pedestrian . . . hello?  Anyways, you’re so lucky you’re not hot, girlfriend!”  Becky was refolding the baby tees I just folded so that only “I suck” showed.

“Well maybe he was honking because he was entering an intersection, Becky.”

“Shut the hell up, girlfriend! That fire guy wanted to jump my bones! End of story!”

I was about to tell Becky she was delusional, just as soon as I could think of a small word that meant delusional, when the door jingled open.

A fireman entered and sauntered up to Becky.  “Hi beautiful!  Remember me?  I honked at you yesterday on my way to a fire!”

“Tell me about it, fire guy!”  Becky giggled three octaves above middle C — then turned to me. “Told you so, Girlfriend!”

 

Until next time . . . I love you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What to Read While Hanging by the Neck Until Dead

Dear Readers!  I’ve been away from my blog for four whole days!  My kids visited, and we all  whooped it up Vernon Style in a combination, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Spring Birthday, Memorial Day celebration!   Gosh we had a good time!  We figure it will hold us over until June when we’ll all get together again to celebrate National Accordion Month!  (Can! Not! Wait!)

But Dear Readers, as you know,  life isn’t all fun and games.  No siree!  Sometimes life is a serious business and as such, you have to get the most out of every single minute — which brings us to today’s topic:

Literature and The Death Penalty:

or

Bestsellers Revised-for-People-Who-Are-Hanging-By-Their-Necks-Until-Dead Market

What Color Is Your Parachute You Wish You Had Right Now?

“Ha ha! A must read for anybody hanging by their necks until dead” — The Executioner’s Quarterly

Clear and Present Danger,  Tell Me Something I Don’t Know Edition

“A real no duh, engrossingly obvious read!’ — Hangin’ Judge

Amy Vanderbilt’s Complete Book of Swinging Back and Fourth  Etiquette

“A complete guide to avoiding that final faux pas!” — Washington State Penitentiary’s Gallows Supervisor

The Pit and Hey Lookee Me I’m the Pendulum

“Great last-minute death-penalty zen tips” — Zen Masters Weekly

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People Who Can’t Breath

“I heartily recommend this to anyone who is undergoing personal changes from, say, alive to dead.” — Pope Benedict XVI

Literally Lord of the Flies

“The most effective step-by-step fly management program to date.” –The Association of American Fly Farmers

The Agony and the Ecstasy Only Ixnay on the Ecstasyay

“The Agony and the Ecstasy abridged version that ‘Death Penaltees’ won’t be able to put down until it drops out of their hands on its own accord.!” Billy the Kid’s Ghost

Ο Things to Do Before You Die, The Heavily Discounted Edition

“Literally thousands of great suggestions not included! And at a price you’ll love” — Necktie Party Publishers Weekly

And there you have it, Dear Readers!  Now, I must admit, this  post was a little weird even for me.  I’m blaming it on  too much cake while whooping it up with the family.  I’m really going to have to watch it at next months National Accordion Celebration!

Until next time . . . I love you

Happy Wed-fri-nesday!

Hello Dear Readers and welcome to Wed-Fri-nesday.  I decided to make up a new day of the week because 1) it’s high time somebody did 2) the Friday Fictioneer 100-word writing challenge starts on Wednesday.

Every Wedfrinesday, Rochell Wisoff-Fields, provides a weekly picture prompt, and writers are challenged to write a 100-word story. Go here if you want to join in:  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Addicted to Purple Blog and you should!  Why?  Well, what better way to celebrate the very first Wedfrinesday?

Copyright Sarah Hall

The Doing, the Undoing and the Redoing of Sean

Sean squished a spider crawling on his prized lawn trophy with his half-emptied whiskey bottle; congratulating himself in one instant, and disgusting himself in the next – with just how low he had sunk, accomplishment-wise.

When he was riding high with two consecutive wins at the Lawnmower Blade Sharpening British Open, the money and the fame had gone to Sean’s head.

His wife left, his kids left, his dog left, and even his goldfish . . . wait . . . no!  He still had his goldfish!

Sean straightened his tie, picked up his goldfish bowl and headed into the future.

P.S. This story came in at exactly 100 words not counting the title and the 1,000 words the picture tells.

Until next time . . . I love you

The Bible According to Gregory: Awkward Moments for Moses

Welcome, Dear Readers, to this Sunday’s edition of The Bible According to Gregory.

Let’s listen in and see what Gregory learned in Sunday school this morning, shall we?

Awkward Moments For Moses

One beautiful biblical morning, the Lord began to saying to Moses.  “Depart and go up from here to the land of which I swore to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob  . . .”

While the Lord was talking, Moses began sighing and  picking leaves out of his sheep’s fur, secretly wishing the Lord wouldn’t always feel the need to recap the entire events of mankind before moving on to His next topic.

“. . . I will send My angel, and I will drive out the Hittites, the Canaanites and Amorites . . .”

Moses quietly opened his satchel and started nibbling on his fig sandwich.

“. . . and the Hittite, the Perizzite and the Hivite and Jebusites . . .”

While Moses was adjusting his sandals the Lord said,”Go  up to a land flowing with milk and honey  for I will not go in your midst, lest I consume you on the way, for you are a stiff-necked people.“

Say what?  Did the Lord just say he liked to consume stiff-necked people?  Well, sir, that got Moses’ attention!

” Okaaaaay . . .  ” Moses said, “but just a quick question, Lord.  By consume, You don’t by any chance mean “eat”  stiff-necked people, do you?  Moses hung his head while he asked the queston to make his neck look limper.  “I only ask because eat and consume usually mean the same thing.”

But the Lord didn’t hear Moses’ question, what with all the noisy sacrificing going on in the background.

When Moses relayed to his people, the Peoplites, about the Lords plans to relocate them to the land of Milk and Honey — but that the Lord wouldn’t be coming along personally due His, ahem,  Inappropriate Eating Problem, they mourned and took off all their ornaments. (This was way before they had Christmas trees to hang them on.)

Then the Lord told Moses exactly what to say to the Peoplites about his inappropriate eating problem.

“Say to the children of Israel, “you are a stiff-necked people, I could come up into your midst one moment and consume you. Now therefore take off your ornaments so that I may know what to do.” 

Either the stiff-necked Peoplite’s ornaments were jingling so loud the Lord couldn’t hear himself think, or the Lord wanted them to take off the ornaments as they tended to get stuck in the Lord’s Beard whenever He “consumed” stiff-necked Peoplites.

Anyway, by now the Lord and Moses were pretty close friends.  By today’s standards, they would have not only been friends on Facebook; they would have made sure to click the like button on each other’s posts.

So Moses pitched a “meeting tent” where he and the Lord could meet.   Moses sat inside the tent while the Lord appeared outside the tent as a pillar of smoke, (the Lord’s favorite avatar).

Everything was going really great, relationship-wise, until one day Moses blurted out, “Would you mind if I took a peek at your real face, Lord?

What followed was an awkward silence of epic proportions.   Finally the Lord just flat out told Moses that if he showed Moses his face Moses, Moses would die from looking at it — thither on the spot!

Talk about awkward! After that Moses didn’t know what to say and either did the Lord.

Finally the Lord just completely changed the subject. “Cut two stones and meet me up on Mt. Sinai tomorrow, Moses.”

“Sure!” Moses said, hugely relieved.  May I inquire as to why?”  Moses sat down and prepared himself for another of the  Lord’s  long, drawn-out explanation.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out” was all the Lord would say.

  Stay tune next week when Gregory retells what he  learned about the Ten Commandments in Sunday School.

Until next time . . . I love you

“No I’ve been listening, Lord. You were saying something about the Vermiculites?
“No, Moses, I was talking about the Hittites! Will you stop fooling with your sandal and listen!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trifecta 33-Word Challenge: Little Horribella

Hello Dear Readers.  Today is the Trifecta 33-word challenge.  Today’s challenge is to incorporate  an example of onomatopoeia –words that sound like what they mean –like splash, whoosh, and yadda yadda.

 

Little Horribella 

Little Horribella pulled the string on her talking doll.

“Oink!”

Horribella whacked it and tried again.

“Ding-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling!”

“Oh this stupid doll!” Horribella lit the dynamite.

KERPOW!

“Ah! that’s more like it.” Horribella said.

Little Horribella

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

Brenda’s New Job Sucks

Welcome Dear Readers! It’s time for Friday Fictioneers. And the good thing is you don’t even have to have any ears to participate!

All you have to do is go to Rochelle Wisoff-FieldsAddicted to Purple and take a look at the picture (which is posted every Wednesday) and write a 100-word story about it. Link up and Viola!  Lookee you!  You’re a Friday Fictioneer!! 

Here’s this week’s picture:

icon-grill-ted-strutz

And they expected her to do this for eternity?  Seriously?  Brenda hadn’t even been a ghost for a full hour, and she was bored stiff.

Brenda swept her arm across the bar again. Everything went crashing to the floor again.  Hardly anyone one noticed, again, because the jukebox was screaming Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog again.

“It’s a ghost!” Someone shouted. “I got her picture!”

Everyone rushed over including Brenda.  Yeah, that was her alright. Everyone thought she looked spooky, but Brenda thought she looked fat.

Well, Brenda’s supervisor was coming tomorrow.   Maybe he’d reassign her somewhere better.  Like hell.

And there you have it, Dear Readers, this week’s Friday Fictioneer’s Challenge.  

Until next time . . . I love you

The Trifecta Writing Challenge: The Pliability of Nigel Cornhusker

Hello Dear Readers! It’s time for the weekly Trifecta Challenge which is to write a story using the third definition of the word:  blood: a : lifeblood; broadly : life; b : human stock or lineage; especially : royal lineage <a prince of the blood>c : relationship by descent from a common ancestor : kinship d : persons related through common descent : kindred e (1) : honorable or high birth or descent (2) : descent from parents of recognized breed or pedigree

The Pliability of Nigel Cornhusker

 The minute Sophia Loren walked through the door of the screwdriver factory and sat down at the conveyor belt on the stool next to Nigel Cornhusker was the day Nigel Cornhusker’s heretofore uneventful life popped a wheelie.

Of course, this Sophia Loren wasn’t any blood relation to the renowned Italian actress, but she had tried out for a part once in a local production of the Merchant of Venice, and she adored spaghetti.  In Nigel’s eyes, that made her every bit as good as the real Sophia Loren.

Nigel thought Sophia was a looker too.  He was smitten with her round, coquettish eyes and the adorable way one of them hovered to the side no matter which way she was looking.  Plus the fact that Sophia’s tight hairnet pushed down her considerable eyebrows to hover, caterpillar-like, just above those round, coquettish eyes of hers — and, well, it drove Nigel Cornhusker nearly wild! But it was Sophia’s sparkling vivaciousness that made Nigel Cornhusker putty in Sophia’s hands.

That’s why it was a crying shame that Sophia was married — and an even bigger crying shame that Sophia wanted Nigel Cornhusker to bump off her husband, Victorio Betropellio Pelliweenio.

Each day, while she and Nigel would sit at the conveyor belt examining yellow screwdriver handles for proper transparency, Sophia would use her sparkling vivaciousness to reel in Nigel’s affections, minute by minute, hour by hour, screwdriver handle by screwdriver handle.

Until finally one day Sophia cooed, “Say, listen, Nigel.  Why don’t you come over for a romantic spaghetti dinner?  It would be just you, me and my husband, Victorio Betropellio Pelliweenio’s dead body — once you kill him, that is.  Oh and do you prefer regular Pepsi or diet?”

* * *

Nigel Cornhusker watched the moon through the tiny window of his prison cell and imagined his beautiful Sophia beneath its milky light. “Sophia my love!” He screamed in anguish.

“Uh, I’m trying to sleep over here, Nigel!” Sophia shouted from the next cell. “Do you mind?”

The View from San Quentin

Until next time . . . I love you