Nope. I have nothing prepared for the day, but just kicked back and noticed a second day of no new posts!
What! This isn’t right!
So you get silly stuff. I my case, I once tried the fifty word challenge, and came up with this:
The Horror
She knew she had to do it.
Through two long and sleepless nights she could find no alternative. Could think of no reason, could find no saner course.
Her hand shook slightly as she reached for the box.
She had never believed it could come down to this.
Decaffeinated tea.
Okay, your turn–give me something silly!
Mad Genius Club 
6 responses to “Happy Independence Day”
“We could weaponize that”.
“What?”
“We could weaponize them.”
“What them?”
“The bristly things on strawberries. Like cacti. We’ll modify strawberry bristles to be spines and we could use them as ammunition in little catapults.”
John and Pete got an A in their genetics class but were grounded for months.
“By the way, Grampa. Are fairies real?”
No, I told her. But I could tell it disappointed her. But I couldn’t tell her the truth.
Too much history behind us, too much pain.
Too much treachery.
If the Fae were to survive, we had to hide.
Or we would die.
I’m in trouble… The garter snake behind the cabin gave me such a look when he dived into the network of interconnecting tunnels that emerged somewhere in my cabin’s fireplace woodpile.
“You killed my father. Prepare to die!”
I envy you, your magic place, but there are a few drawbacks . . .
“You’re too late” sneered Zoltar. “The fireplace has already flown south for the winter!”
or,
“I’m sorry Alex, even if Father would let me I could never marry an alligator.”
Both stolen from the legendary Michael O’Donoghue.
“Maxim, what has that woman of yours done now?”
Victor only raised his voice in that dramatic way when he was fairly angry and had decided there wasn’t a clever, painful way of taking his anger out on its object. I struggled out of a deep sleep.
“Could you be more specific?” I mumbled. I sat up in bed, blinking at the bright lights. Apparently, Victor turning them on hadn’t been enough to wake me earlier.
My cousin stood beside my bed glaring down at me in disbelief. “You really don’t know, do you?”
I rolled over in bed, picked up my pocket watch from the bedside stand, and squinted blearily at its dial. “At four in the morning, I don’t know much,” I said. “Certainly not thirty seconds after waking up.”