It’s time once again for SammiScribbles’ Weekend writing prompt. Details are above.
Every so often Purgatory’s Punks, a ragtag special needs Faction of The Hades’ Homeboys, start to make noise about a revolution.
Nobody’s got time for that dreck.
So, The Homeboys’ leader, Bunny Sarger, whips them around like wet dishrags.
It’s time for Fibbing Friday again. PCGuyIV is our host and the questions are below.
First and foremost, it was Penguin Awareness Day. I also washed the floor.
2. What do Joseph Biden, Warren G. Harding, and James Monroe all have in common?
They are all guys.
3. What distinction does James Monroe have that no President since can claim?
His name is James Monroe. No other president can say that.
4. Why did George H. W. Bush call George W. Bush, “Quincy”?
H.W. couldn’t remember George W’s name.
5. What was historically significant about Queen Elizabeth, II’s coronation?
Hank Williams and Dean Martin were hired for entertaiment. They all played Pin the Tail on the Donkey afterward.
6. Why did King Edward, VIII’s reign not even last a full year?
He found the job boring so he quit and launched the first Bitcoin/Cryptocurrency exchange..
7. What event happened during King George, III’s reign that changed his official title?
He underwent gender reassignment.
8. What British figure was known as “The Iron Lady”?
One of the maids because she could iron an outfit faster than anyone else and without burning the material.
9. What did Joe Biden do before getting into politics?
He hung out in his basement playing Cornhole.
10. What did Boris Johnson do before becoming Prime Minister?
Hung out in Biden’s basement.
It’s time again for the #1MinFiction Challenge by Cyranny over at Cyranny’s Cove! Our writing prompt is the image below.
“I think they forgot about us, Leo.” Stella sighed. “It’s getting dark already.”
“Yeah, it looks like they are getting ready to close, too.” He gestured down at the parking lot. “It’s almost empty now.”
“How long have we been up here?”
“Too long. I’m starving!”
“What’s worse is that I have to pee like a racehorse,” Stella announced. “Just can’t hold it like I used to.”
“Hang on a minute.” Leo slurped the remainder of his lemonade and handed Stella the empty cup. “It’s super-sized just for you.”
“Oh, Leo. Always a gentleman!” Stella giggled. “Don’t look, okay?”
“I won’t look if you won’t spill.”
I drove past your house yesterday
Pumpkins, bare twigs; a chilly breeze
Quite an unsettling shade of gray.
Paused before going on my way
To watch an oak tree shed its leaves
I drove past your house yesterday.
Squirrels scampering, hard at play
Leaping wildly from roof to tree
Quite an unsettling shade of gray.
You’ve left me with nothing to say.
You always do just what you please
I drove past your house yesterday.
What does it have, that strange chalet
That made you choose it over me?
Quite an unsettling shade of gray.
Perhaps I’ll catch a glimpse one day
Of you without him, O God please.
I drove past your house yesterday
Quite an unsettling shade of gray.
It’s Prosery Day over at the dVerse Poets Pub!
Write a story of 144 words or less (not including the title). The story must have a beginning and an end, and should not be poetry. Sounds easy enough right? Here’s the twist: You must use the poetry line I have given you within your story. You may alter the punctuation, but you must use the line in its entirety.
Today, I have chosen the following line taken from Spring Azures from the book Wild Geese by Mary Oliver:
‘Sometimes the great bones of my life feel so heavy.’
Sometimes the great bones of my life feel so heavy.
Thus is the result of wading through the wet cement of too many past mistakes and having neither the guts nor sense to face them. Instead, I haul the accumulated baggage along to the next thing. In the beginning it’s easy to stuff the baggage by laughing it off, allowing people to think I am quirky or eccentric. Eventually though, the more astute folks are able to see through the façade and figure it out:
I’m a fake.
Pretending to be ‘normal’ in order to fit in with groups I don’t even understand is exhausting. It’s no wonder that sooner or later the ball will drop like it’s New Year’s Eve, except with a splat— embarrassingly reminiscent of the Emperor’s New Clothes.
Sure, I could simply drop the baggage, but then who would I be?
Ergo, the Ogre 