Thanks once again to Michelle from
Putting My Feet In The Dirt
for her list of daily prompts for the month of June.
Special thanks to Michelle’s daughters, Brianna and Autumn
for their ideas in creating these prompts!
Please visit her site for her June list of daily prompts.
My Friend Picklehead
It all started with a Sprinkle of balderdash from my friend
Picklehead. He said that a woman we knew had great
Callipygian curves. “Balderdash”, I said. “She has a nice
butt, but it certainly is not well rounded!
Picklehead was a bar owner and was always full of Hornswoggling hellos
trying to deceive people. He would tell us about his Sour drop dreams
and his Tissue paper troubles, but they were all just
Malicious metaphors that he used to deceive. They were all
part of his Lackadaisical lollygagging.
When that would fail he would resort to drawing
Cotton ball caricatures using, you guessed it… Cotton Balls!
We would all shrug and look Beyond the ballyhoo and have
another drink. We all had 5 or 6 more drinks, And then we
all fizzled. We talked about our own Ethereal evolutions
and how we should write our Memoirs and milestones. When
I heard that, I started Laughing like a lyrical lush (probably
because I’m a musician).
In the meantime, Picklehead was feeding his flock of
Pirouetting penguins, who seemed to enjoy eating
the Torturous turnips that were leftover bar snacks.
The bar band called the Whistling Whirligigs started
singing their new song called Sylvia’s Secrets. It sure
sounded a lot like Sylvia’s Mother by Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show.
I sent the band a request that I Penciled in blue and
asked them to play my favorite song, In cahoots with chaos
by the Ghastly goobers.
Picklehead’s bar girls were affectionately known as the
Dazzling doohickeys. They were all members of a secret
society known as Code R A I N B O W. The letters supposedly
stood for Raunchy And Intimidating Natural Breasted Old Women.
When they sat their Bottoms down they reminded you of
Absquatulating aliens and you wanted to depart abruptly.
They were old, hard and red, like a Carnelian and carbuncle.
So my friends, the next time you go to Picklehead’s bar,
Remember the magic of this Spastically spiffy story.
Enter the bar with A river of fortitude and be prepared
to encounter Bodacious barnacles. And one last thing…
Don’t believe any of my Cockamamie conclusions.
The moral of this story: Let your writing take
you to places that you normally don’t go.
~The Tennessee Poet~
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