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Posts tagged “humour

Flash Fiction Friday: I Am Tigre de los Bravo

by: Andrew Novak

The people see me dance and they can’t believe. They compliment my wooden mask, its bright saffron and blackened stripes. They stare into my reflective eyes and touch my mouth lined with rotting teeth of creature.

Only, it’s no mask.

It’s my face.

It’s real.

And the people, they love me.

Burning yellow and black-spotted, I run around town kicking up dust at the base of the mountain. I’ve twice trashed the offices of the major political parties. First with cinder stones, then with fire.

I run faster than cops can drive.

At the strip club, ladies tug my tail and stroke my fur under dim purple lights. I purr to the sounds of reggaetón. The owner of this place knows me well.

I blast dumpy rock music at unreasonable volumes in the zócalo. When people come to stop me, to shut me down, I spit cheap beer onto their clothes. When they spit back, I catch it in my mouth and laugh.

I eat tobacco leaves and dance the danza.

I smoke a pipe and drink mezcal.

Yes, I’m the wiseguy who buys up all the books at the bookshop. And after I’ve read each one, I eat the pages. I chew paper to pulp and swallow.

The mayor hates me and prays for my death. He knows: I secretly run this town and, if pushed, I’ll run it right into the ground.

The people erected a statue in my honor, right downtown. But someone spray-painted a hooked phallus ejaculating over the bronze face of my likeness. That someone was me.

The mayor, he hates me because I was wearing one of those trick handshake-buzzers the first time I met him. He looked so foolish yelping on stage, pulling back his soft palm, and flailing in front of thousands of respected city denizens. I burned his house down later that week.

My email address is I spend hours each day sending obscene spam emails to every person I hate.

I care for stray dogs and cats. I feed them the food I cook for myself. I also keep a green bird as a friend that I teach to swear at passersby.

I spray-piss poems onto walls and prolapse my ass squeezing coiling shits into rich people’s pools.

Yes, I live on peanut butter sandwiches.

And still I run faster than cops can drive.


Andrew Novak is a journalist and news editor in Washington, DC. He likes to read. He likes to write. He likes to take pictures with his camera. His fiction has appeared in Shotgun Honey, the Robbed of Sleep anthology series, Dark Moon Digest, and Out of the Gutter Online. His bloggings can be found at Neon Grisly.


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The Tea House: Being Dreadful

tea houseToday is brought to you by orange spice coffee, extra sweetened with honey.

Humor is hard. Yet, audiences love funny art, stories and music. Whether or not we create art that’s expressly humorous, being able to add humorous elements is an excellent skill for your artist’s toolbox. In addition to loving a laugh, audiences respond to art when sadness or fear are juxtaposed with humor. Besides, art reflects life, and part of being alive is experiencing the funny bits. There can often be humor in our darkest moments, if you look for it.

Today at The Tea House, we’re going to practice being funny in a particularly dreadful, and perhaps difficult, way. I want you to make art that takes an awful, sad, difficult, terrible and maybe even horrific historical event (so say 2010 back through recorded history) and add humorous elements. Or change the tone so it matches a Benny Hill sketch, a romantic comedy or some other brand of comedy. Or maybe even make the whole event flat out funny. Yes, dark humor counts.

If you’re a prose writer, write at least 750 words of a scene or two. If you’re a poet, write the first draft of a poem. If you write creative non-fiction, reimagine your event through new eyes. If you’re a visual artist, sketch a major scene from the event and either make it funny or add humorous elements. If you’re a musician, play around on your instrument of choice, first finding a melody that matches your event and then make the melody bouncy or change the key to lighten the sound. Extra points for lyrics describing the event and making it funny. Tom Lehrer is one musician who is particularly fine at this, if you need an example to riff off of. If you’re a film maker, film a comedy sketch out of your event.

If you have any humanity in you, this exercise may be slightly difficult. You may have significant qualms about this exercise. If so, this is excellent–this exercise will make you push your boundaries and your abilities. If you’re really concerned about the morals of making the sinking of the Titanic or the Wounded Knee Massacre or the Battle of the Bulge funny, there are ways to add humor without being disrespectful. Finding those tools is also a useful exercise, especially for those who make bizarro art.

Please consider sharing the results of your exercise with others you trust to get their response. Did you make them laugh? Wince? And not because what you produced is bad but because you pushed their boundaries? Did they give you a tight smile, a nod and said, “This is good. I liked it,” and then went to go make their own cup of spiced orange coffee with honey? This is all excellent feedback for you to consider when making your next piece of art.

And, as always, you can share what your art in the comments. Your bizarro brothers and sisters want to see what you’re up to.
Spike Marlowe has held a number of odd jobs, including working in a wild west show, as a detective, as a Bigfoot researcher, as a writer for an Internet content farm and as a busker. These days she’s a writer, blogger and bizarro editor for Eraserhead Press, with a focus on the New Bizarro Author Series. Her first book, Placenta of Love, is now available at all the usual locations. You can stalk her online at her website, or on Twitter at @spikemarlowe.