Flash Fiction #288

 

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

IN AUTUMN, A YOUNG MAN’S FANCY

It’s Labor Day??!  Time to go back to high school.  Oh thrill!  Oh joy! (Insert sarcasm here!)

Some more pencils
some more books
some more teachers’
dirty looks

All the fun and freedom of summer, gone for another year.  No more swimming.  No more camping.  It’s like walking the Last Mile.  I feel the will to live draining away.

Hmmm??  A hot new girl just moved into the neighborhood?  She’ll be on our bus??!  She’ll be in our class??!  Interestinger and interestinger!

I’m going to get my hormones rotated, and YES, I enrolled in the Drama course.  Bring it, school!

***

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

Prepared For Humor

During a company-held workshop on emergencies, the instructor asked, “What would you do if you received a letter-bomb?”
I said, “Write ‘Return to sender’.”

***

A doctor that had been seeing an 80-year-old woman for most of her life finally retired.  At her next checkup, the new doctor told her to bring a list of all the medicines that had been prescribed for her.  As the doctor was looking through these his eyes grew wide as he realized Grandma had a prescription for birth control pills.
“Mrs. Smith, do you realize these are birth control pills?”
“Yes, they help me sleep at night.”
“Mrs. Smith, I assure you there is absolutely nothing in these that could possibly help you sleep!”
She reached out and patted the young doctor’s knee and said, “Yes, dear, I know that.  But every morning, I grind one up and mix it in the glass of orange juice that my 16-year-old Granddaughter drinks.  And believe me it definitely helps me sleep at night.”
You gotta love Grandmas!

***

 A man was riding on a full bus minding his own business when the gorgeous woman next to him started to breast-feed her baby.  The baby wouldn’t take it so she said, “Come on sweetie, eat it all up or I’ll have to give it to this nice man next to us.”
Five minutes later the baby was still not feeding, so she said, “Come on, honey.  Take it or I’ll give it to this nice man here.”  A few minutes later the anxious man blurted out, “Come on kid.  Make up your mind!  I was supposed to get off four stops ago!”

***

Students in an advanced Biology class were taking their mid-term exam.  The last question was, ‘Name seven advantages of Mother’s Milk.’  The question was worth 70 points or none at all.  One student was hard put to think of seven advantages.  He wrote:
1) It is perfect formula for the child.
2) It provides immunity against several diseases.
3) It is always the right temperature.
4) It is inexpensive.
5) It bonds the child to mother and vice versa.
6) It is always available as needed.
And then the student was stuck.  Finally, in desperation, just before the bell rang indicating the end of the test he wrote:
7) It comes in two attractive containers and it’s high enough off the ground where the cat can’t get it.
He got an A+.

***

A woman and her 12-year-old son were riding in a taxi in Detroit.  It was raining and all the prostitutes were standing under awnings.
“Mom,” said the boy, “what are all those women doing?”
“They’re waiting for their husbands to get off work,” she replied.
The taxi driver turns around and says, “Geez lady, why don’t you tell him the truth?  They’re hookers, boy!  They have sex with men for money.”
The little boy’s eyes get wide and he says, “Is that true Mom?”
His mother, glaring hard at the driver, answers “Yes.”
After a few minutes the kid asks, “Mom, if those women have babies, what happens to them?”
She said, “Most of them become taxi drivers.”

***

An elderly, but hardy cattleman from Texas once told a young female neighbor that if she wanted to live a long life, the secret was to sprinkle a pinch of gunpowder on her oatmeal each morning.  She did this religiously and lived to the ripe old age of 103.  She left behind 14 children, 30 grandchildren, 21 great-grandchildren, five great-great-grandchildren and a 40-foot HOLE where the crematorium used to be.

***

 

Flash Fiction # 279

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

A WEIGHTY PROBLEM

Paleo??!  Keto??!  Vegan??!  Ovo-Lacto??!  Why can I not find a diet to help me get rid of this Molson-muscle roof over my tool-shed?  Six-pack?  Looks more like a keg.

Visceral fat??!  Sounds gruesome!  What exactly is a calorie, and why do they want to take up residence around my beltline?

The doctor said to watch my food intake, so I put it right here by the computer – good stuff.  I’m beginning to like this COVID remote, working from home deal.  I don’t even have to walk to the bus stop anymore, or up to the office.  It’s to die for.

***

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

Kindergarten Comedy

My Kindergarten students are learning to read.  Recently one of them pointed to a picture in a book and said, “Look, a frickin’ elephant.”
Taking a deep breath, I asked why he had called it that.
“Cuz it says so in the book.”
And so it does – African elephant.

***

My wife and I went into town and visited a shop. When we came out, there was a cop writing out a parking ticket. We went up to him and I said, “Come on man, how about giving a senior citizen a break?”

He just ignored us and continued writing the ticket.

I called him an “a**hole.” He glared at me and started writing another ticket for having worn-out tires.

So my wife called him a “s*ithead.”

He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first.

Then he started writing more tickets. This went on for about 20 minutes. The more we abused him, the more tickets he wrote. He finally finished, sneered at us and walked away.

Just then our bus arrived, and we got on it and went home.

***

A young boy comes running down the street looking for a cop.

He finds one and then begs “Please, officer, come back to the bar with me, my father’s in a fight.”

Well, they get back to the bar and there’s three guys fighting like you wouldn’t believe.

After a while the cop turns to the kid and says “Okay, which one’s your father?”

The kid looks up at the cop and says, “I don’t know, officer, that’s what they’re fighting about.”

***

A Polish man walks into a store and asks to buy 2 pounds of Polish sausage. The guy behind the counter asks him if he is Polish. “I resent that…”. The Polish man says. “If I asked for chorizo, would you assume I was Mexican? If I asked for Bratwurst, would you assume I was German?” The guy behind the counter says “Nope, I’d still think you were Polish… This is a hardware store!!”

***

A new father and a nurse were filling out the paperwork for the birth of his new daughter.  “What’s the baby’s name?” she asked.
He replied, “Kelsey Noelle.”
Confused, the nurse asks, “How do you spell Kelsey, with no L??”

***

When I was young, I was poor.  Now, after long years of hard, honest work…. I am no longer young.

***

As I looked at my naked body in the mirror, I thought to myself, “I’m going to get tossed out of IKEA any minute now.

Flash Fiction #266

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

THE WILD WEST

And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes today’s Tourist Tram Trip to the Potsdam Paintball Palace.  Please follow the umpire to your left.  He is not a forensic technician, investigating a murder.  Please turn in the protective eye wear that you were issued.  You may keep your paper safeguard suits.  Any bruises incurred, should fade in about a week.  Tomorrow, they will be colors that match your suits.

For those of you not already sufficiently spun, you may take a complementary ride on our Pinwheel Carousel.

(Crazy Americans!  We have restaurants, history and art museums.  They come here to shoot guns??!)  🙄

***

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

Monkeying With Comedy

A young monk arrives at the monastery. He is assigned to helping the other monks in copying the old laws of the church by hand. He notices, however, that all of the monks are copying from copies, not from the original manuscript. So, the new monk goes to the head monk to question this, pointing out that if someone made even a small error in the first copy, it would never be picked up! In fact, that error would be continued in all of the subsequent copies.

The head monk, says, “You make a good point, my son.”

He goes down into the dark caves underneath the monastery where the original manuscripts are held in a locked vault. Hours go by and nobody sees the head monk. The young monk gets worried and goes down to look for him. He sees him banging his head against the wall and wailing.

“We missed the R! We missed the R! We missed the R!”

“Father!” cries the young monk. “What’s wrong?”

The head monk with tears in his eyes replies, “The word is celebrate!”

***

A man was shopping in a nearby supermarket when he noticed a package that said “Olympic Condoms”. He bought it, and told his wife about it.
Wife: “Olympic Condoms? What’s so special about them?”
Man: ”They have 3 colors: Gold, Silver and Bronze.”
Wife:”And what color are you going to wear tonight?”
Man:”Gold, obviously!”
Wife:”Why not Silver? It’d be great if you came second, for a change.”

***

“How does my new toupee look?” Noah asks his family. “Honest opinions only.”
His son says, “It looks great, Dad!”
His wife says, “It looks totally realistic!”
His uncle says, “It looks like something crawled up and died there.”
Noah throws his uncle over the side of the Ark, never to be seen again. Coming to his senses, he apologizes, then turns to the animals. “And how does my outfit look? Honest opinions only.”

The horse says, “Great! The colors really go together.”
The parrot says, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
The unicorn says, “Bozo called, he wants his tie back.”

***

My neighbor is in the Guinness Book of Records.  He has had 44 concussions.
He lives very close, in fact, just a stone’s throw away.

***

A trucker in Newfoundland stops at a red light, a blonde catches up. She jumps out of her car, runs up to his truck, and knocks on the door. The trucker lowers the window, and she says “Hi, my name is Heather and you’re losing some of your load.”
The trucker ignores her and proceeds down the street. When the truck stops for another red light, the girl catches up again. She jumps out of her car, runs up and knocks on the door. Again, the trucker lowers the window. As if they’ve never spoken, the blonde says brightly, “Hi my name is Heather, and you are losing some of your load!”
Shaking his head, the trucker ignores her again and continues down the street. At the third red light, the same thing happens again. All out of breath, the blonde gets out of her car, runs up, and knocks on the truck door. The trucker lowers the window. Again she says “Hi, my name is Heather, and you are losing some of your load!”
When the light turns green the trucker revs up and races to the next light. When he stops this time, he hurriedly gets out of the truck, and runs back to the blonde’s car. He knocks on her window, and as she lowers it, he says “Hi, my name is Kevin, it’s winter in Newfoundland and I’m driving the SALT TRUCK!”

***

Just as the graveside service ended, there was a huge distant lightning bolt, accompanied by a tremendous rolling peal of thunder.  The little old man looked calmly at the Pastor and said, “Well, she’s there, and it’s His problem now.”

***

I usually work the evening shift, finishing close to 11:30 p.m. I normally have to run to catch the 11:30 bus. Last New Year’s Eve, I finished work and raced to catch the bus, but by 12:10 it still hadn’t come, so I figured I’d likely missed it.

I turned to a man who had been waiting alongside me the whole time and said, “Sir, how long have you been waiting?”

He looked at his watch and said, “Since last year.”

Flash Fiction #248

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

THE MALE MUST GO THROUGH

The late, great, Bob Bryant.

Well, the only thing he was great at, was being late.  He was born almost two weeks after his due date, and never caught up.

He was late for breakfast, late for classes, late to get his drivers’ licence, and late for his senior prom.  His Mother told him that he’d be late for his own funeral.  If he’d shuffled his feet faster, he’d have been on the sidewalk, instead of shuffling off to Buffalo, in front of that bus.

Here he was, returning from the crematorium.  With COVID-delayed postal delivery, Mom would be right.

***

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

Serenity

 

MAY THE LORD GRANT ME:

THE SERENITY TO ACCEPT THOSE THINGS I CANNOT CHANGE.

THE COURAGE TO CHANGE THOSE THINGS THAT I CAN CHANGE.

AND THE WISDOM TO HIDE THE BODIES OF THOSE PEOPLE THAT I HAD TO KILL,

BECAUSE THEY REALLY PISSED ME OFF!!

****

 

It Pays To Advertise

A woman about seven months pregnant got on a street car and sat down.  She noticed a man opposite her was smiling, so she indignantly moved.  This time, the man’s expression changed to a grin, so she moved again.  The man seemed even more amused.  When, on the fourth move, the man burst out laughing, she complained to the conductor, and had the man arrested.

The case came up in court, and the judge asked the man if he had anything to say.  He said, “Well Your Honor, it was like this.  When the lady got on the street car, I could not help but notice her condition.  She sat under a sign that read ‘The Gold Dust Twins Are Coming Soon’, and I had to smile.  Then she sat under a sign that said ‘Sloan’s Liniment Will Reduce The Swelling’.

Then she placed herself under a sign that read ‘Williams Big Stick Did The Trick’, and I could hardly control myself.  When she moved the fourth time and sat under a sign that read ‘Goodyear Rubber Could Have Prevented This Accident’ I laughed out loud.”

THE JUDGE DISMISSED THE CASE!

***

 

Break Time

Four union workers were discussing how smart their dogs were.  The first was a United Auto Worker, who said his dog could do math calculation.  His dog was named T-Square, and the owner told him to go to the blackboard and draw a circle, a square, and a triangle, which the dog did with no sweat.

The United Steel Workers member thought his dog was better.  His dog, named Slide-rule, was told to fetch a dozen cookies and divide them into 4 piles of 3, which Slide-rule did with no problem.

The Oil, Chemical and Atomic Workers member said, that was good, but he felt his dog was even better.  His dog, named Measure, was told to go get a quart of milk, and pour seven ounces into a ten-ounce glass.  The dog did this with no problem.  All three agreed that this was very good, and all the dogs were smart.

They all turned to the Teamsters member, and said, “What can your dog do?”  The Teamsters member called his dog, which was named Coffee Break, and said, “Show the fellows what you can do!”  Coffee Break went over and ate the cookies, drank the milk, and screwed the other three dogs.  Then he claimed he had injured his back, filed for Workers Compensation and went home on sick leave.

***

 

As we get older, we need to be more aware of medical terminology.

MEDICAL DICTIONARY

Anally – Occurring yearly

Artery – Study of paintings

Bacteria – The back door to the cafeteria

Barium – What doctors do when treatment fails

Bowel – Letters like A, E, I, O and U

Caesarean Section – An area in Rome

Cauterize – Made eye contact with her

Colic – A sheep dog

Congenital – Friendly

D & C – Where Washington is

Diarrhea – Journal of daily events

Dilate – To live long

Enema – Not a friend

Fester – Quicker

Fibula – A small lie

G.I. Series – Soldiers ball game

Grippe – Suitcase

Hangnail – Coat hook

Impotent – Distinguished, well known

Medical Staff – Doctor’s cane

Morbid – Higher offer

Nitrate – Cheaper than day rate

Node – Was aware of

Outpatient – Somebody who has fainted

Pap Smear – Fatherhood test

Pelvis – Cousin of Elvis

Placenta – Christmas flower

Post Operative – Letter carrier

Prostate – Flat on your back

Protein – Favoring young people

Recovery Room – Place to do upholstery

Rectum – Damn near killed ‘em

Rheumatic – Amorous

Sear – Rolled tobacco leaf

Secretion – Hiding anything

Seizure – Roman Emperor

Serology – Study of Knighthood

Tablet – Small table

Terminal Illness – Getting sick at the airport

Tibia – A country in North Africa

Tumor – An extra pair

Urine – Opposite of yer out

Varicose – Located nearby

Vein – Conceited

Classy Manners

While I’m all for respectful social comportment, “good manners” is often like “good Christians”, just another way for those at the top of the pile to enforce their version of acceptable behavior on those subordinate to them.  Often, the reason for certain behavior is lost or changed, but the demand for ritual continues.  Kitchen forks and knives came into existence to reduce the slashings and stabbings with daggers at Renaissance banquets.

Much of good manners is either the rich trying to get the poor to imitate them, or the poor trying to pretend they are not poor.  Everything is relative.  The, a plate for this food and a glass for that wine, means nothing to a kid from Kenya who is lucky to have an old tin can or half a gourd to hold a little food.  When first married, my father always left a little something on his plate, and it disturbed my Scottish mother.  When asked about it, he said that an aunt had told him that it showed you were well-off enough to waste a bit.  Mom soon cured him of that.

Don’t pick up food with your hands, because we can afford cutlery.  Don’t lick your plate or bowl, because we can pay for more food.  The only one that makes sense is the, don’t lick your knife, admonishment.  You might cut your tongue.  You can be sure that the Kenyan kid is licking his food holder.

When it comes to manners, much is expected of us, simply because it is expected.  England, supposedly the home of freedom and democracy, even today, is rigidly stratified by wealth and region.  The lower the position on the social totem pole – assigned by those at the top – the more one is expected to know your place, and act your role.  In one of Agatha Christie’s mysteries, two murderers are caught for an otherwise perfect murder, because they didn’t speak to the housekeeper.  Why didn’t they ask Evans?

In a perfect world, no-one would be disturbed by anything, but the world is far from perfect, and some people’s expectations and turn-offs are somewhat excessive.  I once bathed, immediately before going to work.  I put on clean clothes, from the skin out, including a brand-new pair of socks.

After working 8 hours I had to remove a shoe and sock in the locker-room.  Even I was shocked to see the foot was completely black.  Some bitchy wimp asked, “Don’t you ever shower?” After I explained that I seldom shower, I assured him that I had just had a nice long bath.  The black on my foot was just fiber from the new socks.  “Yeah, well, it’s still gross!”  What do you answer to that?  It’s not my problem.  It’s his!

Go Transit, the commuter railroad in southern Ontario, has instituted *quiet zones*, cars where there are no loud talkers, no cell-phones, and no music leaking from earphones on empty heads.  A Toronto Sun columnist wants to transfer that to the streetcars and subways of the Toronto Transit Commission, and adds his list of dislikes.  Here’s why I don’t think he has a chance.

He rails against coughers, spreading germs.  He wants them to cover their mouth, and wonders why they don’t just stay home.

You’re sitting down, while I have one hand full of strap, and the other with a tote-bag with my Joe-Job uniform.  It doesn’t leave many free limbs to suppress coughs.  I’m going to work, with my cold, because I have a shitty job, with shitty pay, and a shitty boss.  I need the income, and I need the job!  I’m gonna keep ridin’ the bus, till the day after they embalm me.  You could peel off $300 and say, “Here, take a couple of days off.  What’s your boss’s name and address?  I’ll tell him what a stand-up guy you are and slip him a C-note to pay for a temp, and to hold your job.”  Until you do, Shut Up!

Sniffers, just bring a Kleenex, or a simple handkerchief to clear the nasal passages, so I don’t have to listen.

Plug in your earphones, because I suffer from hyperhidrosis.  I am constantly producing saliva and nasal fluid.  It’s a steady post-nasal drip.  I could blow my nose with aloe flavored tissues till I sand it off, and it would still drip down my throat.  You think it’s irritating on the outside for a half-hour ride; you should try living with it on the inside, 24/7!

Watching somebody spend 30 minutes putting on makeup is just off-putting.  Organize your morning ablutions.

Gee, Bob, why don’t you close your eyes and doze off.  I’d like to.  I’m a working Mom, and I’ve been up since 5:30 AM.  I woke a husband and two kids, made sure they all got washed and dressed while I made them breakfast and lunches.  I got Hubby off to work, and the kids delivered to daycare, and now I have to endure the ride-from-Hell, to work.  I finally have a free minute to call my own, and you don’t like it?  If you don’t want to see me apply my makeup, why don’t you get up a half hour earlier, and take a different train?

He did have an insightful comment about seat-baggers, but it just proves what sheep most people are.  Who knew that bags and parcels get tired?  That must be the reason some people feel the need to sit on one seat and take another for their carry-ons.  It is both rude and selfish.

When I took the bus home from a day-shift, I rode the same one that the Good-Christian, Catholic School students took.  Since my stop was almost the last, on the outbound run, I tried to sit on the raised section behind the back door, to give others room.  That’s where the students always rode, too.  Some of the loving couples must have felt a bus seat was less expensive than a motel room, but provided an entertaining, in-flight movie.

I stepped up there one day, and there was only one seat open (?).  It had José the Jock’s school-books in it.  I looked at him, and then at the seat.  He looked at me, and then looked away, dismissively.  I walked over, picked up the pile of books, dropped them in his lap and sat down, with my carry-bag on my lap.  My working ass is more tired than your books.  There are places where these actions might be more dangerous, but the look on his face was priceless.  Somebody gotta teach ‘em some manners.