Flash Fiction #187

Stopped Cold

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

STOPPED COLD

Lenny and Squiggy weren’t their real names, but everyone called them that. Something about a 1970s TV program.

After their respective parents had finally booted them out, they couch-surfed together for a while. Someone suggested that they get a job…. Job??! Yeah, we could pull a job.

Lenny knew where the local gang had a betting parlor. It was simple. Wear ski-masks. Run in the front. Wave some toy guns. Grab all the cash they could carry, and run out the back. Everything went flawlessly – but why won’t the back door open?

***

Click above to see their Brain Trust namesakes.

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

Friday Fictioneers

Thanks To A Stranger

Bikini

Thanks to a stranger, half a million people saw me naked.

Well no… not me! 😯 If that had happened, even Trump would have called FEMA out. No, this was the title of a post from a young female.

I am a supporter of #MeToo, #TimesUp, and #BelieveTheVictim. I am also realist enough to know that not all such reports and accusations are true. From self-embellished memories, to totally fabricated stories from women with social and financial ulterior motives, females sometimes need someone to blame. There’s a certain truth to the statement – She didn’t know that she’d been raped, until the cheque bounced.

So, in a certain reverse manner, did this gal and her story.

In her early 20s, she let her long-term boyfriend convince her to make a sex video. When she learned that the kind of guy who would con you into making a sex video wasn’t the kind of guy to keep around, she broke up with him. Then Mr. Spurned Ex-Lover got nasty and vengeful, and put the video up on a revenge porn site.

She became aware of the site, and expended time and energy to get it deleted, but by the time she did, someone had downloaded it, and put it up on a different porn site. When she became aware of the second posting, she had to go through even more to have it taken down – but not before yet another man downloaded it, and posted it to a third porn site.

By the time she got it finally deleted, the accumulated views on all three sites had exceeded 500,000. Now the blame game began, as you can see by the title.

I’d like to feel sorry for her, I really would, but my ‘Give A Damn’ gland has all dried up. She is largely the author of her own misfortune. As Nancy Regan unsuccessfully said about drugs, “Just say no.” If you don’t want your sex video to show up on the internet – don’t make one – don’t let it out of your possession and control – don’t let a boyfriend (or anyone else) have a thumb-drive copy – don’t store it on a computer that can be accessed or hacked – don’t upload it for storage in ‘The Cloud.’

It seems so simple in retrospect. Think ahead, anticipate possible/probable outcomes, and when the shit does hit the fan, accept personal responsibility for the results of no/poor planning.   A con artist once said that you can’t cheat an honest man. Don’t go blaming ‘A Stranger.’ You can’t embarrass a cautious, vigilant woman.

Thanks to the fact that I’ve got nothing better to do in retirement, I’ll be back with something different in a couple of days. I hope you’ll join me.

Ball and Chain

ball-and-chain

Two men were talking and one says to
the other, “You’re having an anniversary soon,
right?” The other replied, “Yup, a big one… 20
years.”

“Wow,” said the other, “what are you going to do
for your wife for your anniversary?” The other
replied, “I’m going to take her to Australia.”

“Wow, Australia! Now that’s something!” said the
other man. “That’s going to be hard to beat. What
are you going to do for your 25th anniversary?”

“Go back and get her.”

***

I haven’t spoken to my wife for 18 months –
I don’t like to interrupt her.

***

If there is a tourist season,
why can’t we shoot them?

***

I like to make jokes about ugly people.
I figure who’s gonna complain?
***

There cannot be a crisis next week.
My schedule is already full.

***

A carelessly planned project will take three times as long as expected.
A carefully planned project….will only take twice as long.

***

A girl realized that she had grown hair between her legs. She got worried and asked her mom about that hair. Her mom calmly said “That part where the hair has grown is called your monkey. Be proud that your monkey has grown hair”. The girl smiled. At dinner, she told her sister “My monkey has grown hair”. Her sister smiled and said “That’s nothing – mine is already eating bananas”.

***

A bus full of Nuns falls off a cliff and they all die!

They arrive at the gates of heaven and meet St. Peter. St. Peter says to them, “Sisters, welcome to Heaven. In a moment I will let you all through the pearly gates, but before I may do that, I must ask each of you a single question. Please form a single-file line.” And they do so.

St. Peter turns to the first Nun in the line and asks her “Sister, have you ever touched a penis?” The Sister Responds “Well… there was this one time… that I kinda sorta… touched one with the tip of my pinky finger…” St. Peter says “Alright Sister, now dip the tip of your pinky finger in the Holy Water, and you may be admitted.” and she did so.

St. Peter now turns to the second nun and says “Sister, have you ever touched a penis?” “Well…. There was this one time… that I held one for a moment…” “Alright Sister, now just wash your hands in the Holy Water, and you may be admitted” and she does so.

Now at this, there is a noise, a jostling in the line. It seems that one nun is trying to cut in front of another! St. Peter sees this and asks the Nun “Sister Susan, what is this? There is no rush!” Sister Susan responds “Well if I’m going to have to gargle this stuff, I’d rather do it before Sister Mary sticks her ass in it!

 

Flash Fiction #113

journey

PHOTO PROMPT © Amy Reese

THE LONG VIEW

Go do your homework!

Aw Mom, why? They’ll just give us more tomorrow.

Yes, and next week, and next month, and then you’ll go into your final high school year. If you do your homework, you’ll get good marks to get into your chosen college – where they will give even more homework.

If you work hard there, you’ll get a good job when you graduate. Nobody gets anything without hard work.  It may look like a long, difficult journey, but it will be worth it in the end.

….You’ll be able to pay for a good retirement home for us.   😉

***

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 #107

Bridge of Size

PHOTO PROMPT – © Adam Ickes

BRIDGE OF SIZE

It was love at first sight when Rintoo and Sasheen first met at the little church at the bottom of their long, marshy valley, when they were 14.

It was much too far to walk all the way around, but Rintoo had a plan. Whenever he had some free time; post by post, plank by plank, the causeway grew. Finally, it was finished.

On his way back from a visit to Sasheen, he met a local farmer, wandering across.
“But I spent my labor and timber!”

He became rich when he put a tollbooth in the middle – and married Sasheen.

***

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

April A To Z – By way of G

April Challenge

I’ve gone and got to G.  What shall I gab about?   I’ve got it!

Letter G

GUNS, GOD AND GRAVESTONES

Any of you who may feel that all three of the above are connected, haven’t been paying attention to the filing system inside my head.

Colt 1911

I don’t give a shit what the Nervous-Nellie, conservative, reactionary do-gooders claim. Guns don’t kill people! Guns don’t kill people any more than hammers build houses.  People kill people when the wrong people get ahold of guns.  I know of guns that are older than I am, and the only thing they’ve ever done is put holes in pieces of paper.

The wrong people get hold of guns when gutless Gus thinks he hears a burglar, and hides a rifle under the bed, and his 4-year-old ‘pretends’ to shoot the neighbor kid – when an armed Security Guard is too lazy to store his gun in his house, or at least in his car’s trunk, and lets his girlfriend and her 6-year-old use the car, and it slides out from under the front seat – when a lady shopper leaves a loaded, cocked pistol in her purse, next to her child in a shopping cart.

We don’t need ‘Gun Control.’ We need people control! We need  background checks, waiting periods, licensing, gun handling and storage safety training, and – instead of emotional, hand-wringing histrionics – an ongoing campaign like we have for smoking in public, or drunk driving, to get people to think, (Could happen) and take their guns, and their control of them, seriously.

OH GOD

God is!….And all the rest of you are wrong.

In the beginning, God created Man – and immediately, every Man created the God which best suited his selfish needs and mistaken beliefs.

The Muslim God is different from the Jewish God.   The Jewish God is not the same as the Christian God.  The Roman Catholic God is not the same as the God of the Greek Orthodox Church – and neither is the same as the Russian Orthodox God.

The Catholic God differs from the Protestant God, and the God of each of over 42,000 Protestant sects varies widely and wildly from the Catholics’– and from each other. In every case, at least one of them must be wrong.

‘Your God’ is a mean, vicious, vengeful, violent God, who would torture me for eternity for respecting all humans and their rights, even if some of them are gay, whereas ‘my God’ is loving, forgiving and inclusive.

The God of the insecure egotists, ‘sees every sparrow fall,’ but they fail to notice that the Bible doesn’t say anything about Him actually doing anything about it. If a greater being created the universe, It is not the God of the egotists’ dreams. It regards this little ball of rock called Earth like an ant-farm, mildly interesting at times, but not worth interfering with, no matter how much they vainly pray.

None of us have enough brains to know what an infinite ‘God’ thinks and wants, but too many of us also don’t have enough brains to keep our mouth shut, and prove our ignorance.

ENGRAVED IN STONE

I’m not going to get stoned – even though it sometimes looks like I am, when I write.

My maternal grandparents lie side-by-side in a double plot, in the old section of my home-town cemetery. Someone in the family must have had some money.  A four-foot high white marble obelisk sits on a sandstone plinth at their heads, with all biographical data professionally and artistically carved in.

Ever the prepared planner, my Mother arranged and paid for all funeral details long before she and Dad died. They (which may mean she) opted for cremation.  They purchased a single plot, and had their urns buried at each of the top corners.  There’s room for four more urns – two on the sides, and two at the bottom.

In the new cemetery section, the rule is that all gravestones must be flush with the earth, for ease of groundskeeping. They put two small sandstone slabs (about 8” square) over the urns, with only their names, and the word ‘husband’ or ‘wife’, no dates of birth or death.

Not exactly welcoming the inevitable, but like Mom, knowing that it should be planned for, I recently had a conversation with my younger brother. Since there’s room at Mom and Dad’s plot, did he plan to be cremated and buried with them?

No more religious than I am, he surprised me with a vehement refusal. No cremation for him!  He plans to be buried the old-fashioned way – embalming, body in a coffin, coffin in the ground.  He’s going to buy a single plot, and have a stone about a quarter of the surface area laid over him.

Like my Mother, I am not a believer in physical resurrection. I also want to be cremated.  The whole process, from beginning to end (actually, from my ending, to the delivery of the urn by Amazon drone) is about $2000/$2500.

I see no reason to rob my heirs of what little I can leave them, by purchasing a plot of land I don’t need, and a chunk of stone that, eventually, no-one will visit. I will be given, probably to my daughter, as a bagful of bonemeal fertilizer that she can sprinkle in her garden, and I will be resurrected as a rosebush, or a lilac tree. (Although, with my luck, I’ll come back as crabgrass.)  That’s the true ‘Circle of Life!’

The Best Laid Plans….

Sexy

I woke up today feeling marvelous!  I even impressed me.  I felt that I should publish a post so that I could inform others of my magnificence.

Planning

If I’m going to compose something to impress others, I need a plan. Think!  Think!….

Procrastinate

A plan is a great idea, but – the cats need kibble, the dog needs out, there’s a newspaper to be read, and a crossword to be done. The wife needs help with supper and dishes….

….

….and the sun has gone down, the moon is risen, and all my wonderfulness has faded into the darkness.

For those of you who may feel I have not put enough thought or effort into this post.

Photo0036

Ah well, perhaps tomorrow.   😎