Image by blogetta
Birds all in a row
Not waiting for Godot though
But for juicy worms.
Perfect Formation
humor
So Quote Me . . .
A belated THANK YOU to Thumbup for nominating me months ago to participate in the 3-Day Quote Challenge a Day. To be more specific, it was a couple of weeks after the 4th of July (so I’m not that late). With Halloween-tinged trickery, I deliberately applied malapropism to three well-known sayings:
“When the groin gets tough, apply lotion to it.”
— Mr. Magoo (a cartoon character who has extreme myopia)
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“Keep your hands close and your enemas closer.”
— Book of Toilet Dilemmas (a rear book)
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“Two bongs won’t win the fight.”
— Chee [a Cheech-wannabee]
Image: Pixabay
Arrowbics (a 50-word story)
Undeterred from lacking funds, the four friends create their version of a CrossFit program, which they claim requires more sweat and guts. The challenge involves archery and lots of movement.
Used to being the point man, Derek harnesses onto his back the archery target with his friends in hot pursuit.
Bottoms Up (a 50-word story)
Image: Pixabay
Although poor, the four friends still have fun. With a six-pack, a deserted parking lot lit by a full moon, a radio, and a dart board game, they have created a makeshift outdoor pub.
“My turn tonight,” Derek says, as he straps the dartboard onto his butt and stoops over.
Cannibal’s Soup
Images: Pixabay
Dirt between my toes
Water bubbling up my nose
Fire much too close.
Butt Out, Bad Guys
Hadley’s heinous hiney halted hairy hooligans.
Global Warning (a six-word story)
He’s thankful for his 20/20 vision.
Leave
I couldn’t believe
He told me to leave;
This nice gnome
From his cozy home.
Me, his roommate
Since 2008.
Why the boot?
I’m just an old coot?
My space is a hole
Not even much for a vole
I’m a plain pushover,
I only eat your leftover.
I will admit
For longer than a bit,
I’ve been filling up your studio
I never thought I’d outgrow
But why couldn’t you be a diplomat,
And not simply call me a FAT RAT?
The City Kid’s Guide to a Nirvana Hike (a six-word story)
Image by Anna
Be one with nature ‘n sh*t.
Blue Hair Luke
Image: Pixabay
Luke admires his silvery 5-o-clock shadow, which makes the dark streak in his silver-white hair look indigo. If he was just a decade or two younger, he would do a somersault. Perhaps add a few more decades. He’s never really been limber, even when at 21. Last year when he buried his dear mother and a week later, celebrated his 70th birthday, he felt like a butterfly that finally shed its cocoon. Farewell, Lucia. Welcome, Luke.
Now that he’s completed his hormone treatment to realize his true self as Luke, he’s ready to hit the club tonight and try out his new look. The blue jeans encasing his long legs and button down plaid shirt hugging his wiry torso give him the appearance of an aging Marlboro man, with a punk look since he spiked his newly cropped hair with styling gel.
Luke strides over to the bar and catches the glance of a woman playing with her pearl strands. Luke winks at her and smiles. She reciprocates. Encouraged, Luke joins her.
“Buy you a drink?” Luke signals the bartender to give the woman another of what she’s having.
The woman’s eyelids appear weighted down with layers of false lashes. Her red-painted lips separate into a smile, revealing ivory-colored veneers. “Hey, cowboy, tell me what else you can give me.”
“Another drink?”
“I’m thinking more along the lines of a back rub?” She clutches her purse, ready to leave.
“Lady’s choice.”
“I live right around the corner.” She takes his hand and they both walk a block.
Once inside, she pounces on him and starts to take off his shirt. By this time, Luke realizes how quickly he’d gotten into a situation he didn’t expect so soon. His end game was to flirt and do some heavy petting with clothes on, but this woman is turning out to be hornier than a toad, and he doesn’t have all the equipment quite yet to give her a full ride. He gently pulls away from her and says, “Whoa, why don’t we sit down for a bit? I didn’t even catch your name . . .”
Breathing hard, the woman stays standing and looks disappointed. “I guess I mistook your cues. Every man I meet at that bar has only one thing in mind and that’s why I go there. I’m sorry but I’m not into name sharing. What we have here is a failure to copulate. Nothing at all just isn’t that cool, handsome.”
[With thanks to Paul Newman’s 1960s prison classic, “Cool Hand Luke”]
Karina Pinella 
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