Blog Theme Prompt

Bite the bullet
decide to do something difficult or unpleasant that one has been putting off or hesitating over.
To “bite the bullet” is to “accept the inevitable impending hardship and endure the resulting pain with fortitude”. The phrase was first recorded by Rudyard Kipling in his 1891 novel The Light that Failed. It has been suggested that it is derived historically from the practice of having a patient clench a bullet in their teeth as a way to cope with the pain of a surgical procedure without anesthetic.

I guess I have to bite the bullet, and accept the challenge to

Bullet point your entire day

1 PM-ish –

1:30 PM –

2 – 4 PM –

4:30 PM –

5 – 7:30 PM –

8 – 9 PM –

9 – 10 PM –

10 – 11:30 PM –

Midnight –

 

 

1 AM –
Tue/Thur/Sat/Sun

12:50 AM
Mon/Wed/Fri.

1 – 3 AM –

3 – 5 AM –

5 AM –

I am number one with a bullet.  Now you know all about me, and realize how little that actually is.  If you promise to stop by again soon, I promise something of a little more truth and substance.

’21 A To Z Challenge – G

One day, when my Dad was in the retirement home, the nurses took him down to the common room, and put him in a big chair, so that he could watch television.  Just as they were walking out, he started to lean over to his left side.  One of them rushed back in, propped him up, and put a large pillow on his left side.

Just as she was leaving again, he started listing over to his right side.  She rushed back, straightened him up, and jammed a cushion on his right side.  When I arrived to visit him, I asked how he liked the place.  “Not very!” he said.  “They won’t even let me fart.”

I just had baked beans for supper, so I decided for the G Challenge, I would do a piece about The Rolling Stones song Jumpin’ Jack Flash.  I see some of you are looking more confused than usual.  Don’t you remember??!  It’s a

GAS, GAS, GAS!

I hope you had a chance to watch the 1987 movie of the same name, starring Whoopi Goldberg.  It makes about as much sense as any of the Pink Panther films, but is just as zany and funny.

I just watched a YouTube video of an old Dave Allen comedy sketch.  He said that he didn’t really like having to fly anywhere.  Medical studies indicate that the average person farts about 14 times in 8 hours.  Put 500 people in an enclosed jumbo jet, for an eight hour flight, and you get a total of 7000 farts by the time you arrive.

And people wonder why I drove all the way to Key West.  At least I can crack a window open a bit…. when the wife starts leaning to one side or another.

Posts that are a little more intellectual will be published later this month.  😉

Flash Fiction #260

                        PHOTO PROMPT © Russell Gayer

FLYING CAR-PET

I can’t believe that this van is flying.  There must be some kind of technology involved.  Anti-gravity is tough enough to accept – but MAGIC??!

It’s not MAGIC magic.  It’s just that some of us have learned to harvest and direct cosmic radiation.  Harry Potter’s car flew.  I often wonder if Rowling is one of us.

But people must be able to see us.  I’ve never heard even nut-case reports.

The diffraction field makes people view us as birds, or distant airplanes.  We might even be some of those government UFO reports.  We’ll need to wash the unicorn shit off later.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Flash Fiction #259

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

LOCKDOWN KNOCKDOWN

Good grief, what happened?  I hadn’t heard of any tornadoes, especially inside a mall.

The Governor finally signed the bill that ended the last COVID lockdown.  It was like a Taylor Swift concert.  People were lining up at the doors at 4:00 AM.  We had extra security, but Commerce was King.  Some folks showed excessive exuberance in revived retail therapy, getting rid of COVID haircuts at the salons, and walking out with new shoes.  It was all we could do to shove the last of them out at closing time.  No sense repairing it.  It’ll be like this again tomorrow.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Flash Fiction #258

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

PEACE AND QUIET

Keep driving.  The GPS says that it’s just a little further

Are you sure this guy exists?  I thought they lived on mountaintops.  Rural Postal Route #22??!  I’m not happy with directions that say, “Turn off the paved road, and drive till the radio goes Ttthbbbrrst.”

There’s his cabin!  Stop!
O Wise Wizard of the Woods, what is the secret of everlasting serenity?

Silence and Solitude!!  How’d you guys find me??  Why don’t you bugger off and find your own patch of bush??!  I guarantee I’ll feel a lot more serene when I see your tail-lights disappear in the distance!

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Flash Fiction #257

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

MOUNTAINS OF MOLEHILLS

Chris didn’t know why most people hated him.  In fact, most people felt that Chris didn’t know that they hated him.

There wasn’t a comment or request that he couldn’t read out of context, and take personal affront with.  A simple request for a work-file, had him running to HR with accusations of harassment.  There was always plenty of Guilt, and Blame, and Fault handed out.

Seemingly asleep on most Social Justice Issues, he still managed to stridently surf the crest of the Woke wave.  While not belonging to any, he constantly voiced loud opinions on BLM, LGBTQ+, and Feminism.

***

If you’d like to join the fun, go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Flash Fiction #256

PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young

CHRYSALIS

His parents wanted him to go to university, or at least a Community College to learn a trade.  They were just so tight, so restrictive, so controlling.  He burst free from their bondage and got himself a great job at 18, with his own income, and promise of advancement.

A month later, he was smart enough to see that it was just a clerical dead-end, and a barely legal pyramid scheme.  He was also smart enough to tell his parents, “You told me so.”  Let’s have a look at the course catalogue at Conestoga College.  I could become a welder.

***

If you’d like to join the fun, go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

What If, It’s Another Challenge

I am awed and amazed at the number of people who read these personal-reveal posts.  Thanx, and here is yet another one.

21: Something you just can’t seem to get over
23: Something you always think “What if….” About

I’m not much one for navel-gazing.  I feel that I am not entitled, but rather, pragmatic, fatalistic, realistic.  What is – IS!  The past is in the past.  It’s over, and cannot be changed.  Deal with it!  Time and psychic energy expended in worrying about ‘What Might Have Been ‘, is lost and wasted.

There are many people, often with an overcharged ego and an excess of entitlement, who feel that if they work hard and apply themselves, get a good education, and make what they feel are the right decisions, then God, or Karma, will ensure them success in life.

IT DON”T WORK LIKE THAT!  The universe is supremely disinterested in any one person.  It is almost impossible to fare well in life without taking these steps, but doing so is no guarantee of success.  No-one is assured a smooth ride.  Nothing is God-ordained and meant to be.

When most people think about “What If” and something they just can’t get over, they imagine that some small change in the past would improve their life in the present.  It’s just wishful thinking.  I’ve had hardly any free times in my busy life to brood about lost potential opportunities.

A very few times, I’ve wondered, What if I didn’t have learning disabilities?  What if I didn’t have my essential tremor?  What if I didn’t have a sieve where my memory should be?  Would I have achieved a post-secondary diploma?  Would I have got a six- or seven-figure job?  Would I have had a great career-arc, and have lots of money?  Would I have ‘married better’?

Then I hear the little flutter that warns of the butterfly effect, and the heavy tromp of Karma’s boots in the hall.  If things had been different, would I have done any better?  Would I have had to spend so much time and mental energy getting my diploma and continuing study to master a trade – that I didn’t have time to study and appreciate the English language?

Would I have to rely on aides and secretaries to make my reports and directives literate and intelligible?  Would I have failed to learn to read for enjoyment – would I be incapable of composing blog posts, both of which now occupy me in my retirement?

Money can’t buy happiness, although it makes looking for it a lot easier.  Would I have married better, and would I have great amounts of money in savings and retirement funds, or would I have a string of three, successively-younger trophy wives, whose alimonies empty my bank accounts, and I live in a bachelor apartment till I die on the job, because I can’t afford to retire?

They say that you can’t cheat an honest man.  You can, it just takes so much extra time and effort that it’s not usually worth it.  Similarly, no-one wants to bother stealing from a poor man.  If the stock market nosedives, I don’t care.  If I’d been smart enough to make a lot of money, I might have been dumb enough to meet a Bernie Madoff, or a Nigerian prince.

Strive and struggle to make the most of what you can.  Accept the present, and face the future.  Don’t get a sore neck from looking back at what if!  Let sleeping dogs lie, and don’t trip over them.  My readers are my riches.  You can compound your interest by showing up again in a couple of days.  😀

’21 A To Z Challenge – D

 

It was the dark of the moon on the 6th of June, in a Kenworth, haulin’ logs.
Actually, it wasn’t.  I only put that in because I just watched a YouTube video of C.W.McCall doing that old CB truckers’ song, Convoy.

It was dark and early Monday morning, two weeks ago.  The sun had not begun to complain about having to rise, to start another work-week for those lucky enough to still have jobs.  I had just published a ‘21 A To Z Challenge post for the letter C.

Remember, you need another post for D in two weeks, and you don’t have anything started.  You have a

DEADLINE

Deadline, schmedline….  That’s 14 days away.  I’ll come up with something.
Tuesday passed in a glorious flash of a Netflix movie and a bowl of popcorn, with a couple of books for a chaser.
Wednesday, I published a post with some words about words.
Deadline threw me a withering glance, like a woman scorned.
You do remember I’m here, don’t you??  You never do anything with me anymore!

I just had a look at Rochelle’s 100-word picture prompt.  I can’t do a thing with it.  I’ll have to figure something to post on Friday.  We’ll go dancing tomorrow, okay?

Thursday slipped into Friday, as I readied and published a back-patting, self-congratulatory post about reviewing another blogger’s book. I basked in the glow of admiration from thousands hundreds maybe 10 or 12 viewers, while Deadline paced back and forth, muttering about suing for alienation of affection.

THERE’S ALWAYS THE WEEKEND….  With 11 years of practice at being retired, the only way I even knew it was late-Sunday/early-Monday again, was that neighbors put out garbage.  I put ours out, and then published a comedy post.
Deadline built a voodoo doll, and was reading a book of incantations.

You know that there’s only one week left, right?  Get off your ass, and get on the keyboard.
That was the last pre-fabricated comedy post I had in reserve.  I’ll assemble 4 more from my Blog Notes stash of jokes tomorrow; then I’ll get right at that D post.

Tuesday – I had an inspiration, and started writing a post about polarization in American politics and religion.
Deadline – tick, tick, tick!!

Wednesday – I published a post with more words, about more words, and started another one to replace it.
DeadlineCan Archon come out and play?
I’m sorry.  He’s had one COVID shot, but apparently he’s suffering a bad case of procrastination.  I smacked him with a calendar, but he just sits there, looking even more stunned than usual.  Maybe tomorrow.

BANG, BANG BANG!!
Open up right now!  This is Deadline, and I have a warrant to search for any sign of a theme, or creative writing.
Thursday already??!  Why the Hell didn’t somebody tell me that I need a post ready by Sunday night?  None of the D words in my file seem appetizing.  I guess I’ll have to do another of those, “If you can’t fix it – Feature it” posts.  I could do one about meeting a deadline.

DeadlineBless you my son.  Say five Robert Heinleins, and have a bottle of sacramental wine while you compose.  You’re still a lazy ass – just not all the time.   😉   😳

Flash Fiction #255


PHOTO PROMPT © 
Ted Strutz

THE ICEMAN COMETH

When a younger lion runs off an alpha male, he often eats any cubs.

Young Michael came to work one month-end Friday, looking quite morose.  His divorced mother had remarried a year ago.  As he got ready for work, his step-father said to him, “Give me your house-key.  I’ve sold the place.  We’re moving today, and not telling you where we’re going.  We’ll leave your belongings on the porch.

I’ve heard of kids running away from home.  This was the only time I heard of Home running away from a kid.

Schwarzenegger played Mister Freeze, but this guy was COLD!   👿

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.