PROMPTuesday #58: We All Need One

Goofballs in the '80s


We’ve got all kinds of friends, haven’t we? The serious ones, the anal ones, the silly ones, the lost ones, the distant ones, the ironclad ones.


Today, let’s write about the fun ones. Do you have a friend who makes you laugh and is a guaranteed good time? Write about this friend. Tell us a funny memory, something he or she said, or some goofball thing you did together.


This can be a character sketch or a plot-driven story.

Perhaps a poem.

Or maybe a song?

Sure, a song sounds nice, too.


And if you’ve got a picture, let us see it! Bonus points for zaniness.


Post your submission in the comments OR post in your blog and leave a link to your blog in the comments.


Meanwhile…First time to PROMPTuesday? Welcome! Read a bit about this weekly writing exercise here.

Want to see what’s been written in the past? Catch up on the PROMPTuesdays archive here.


12 Responses to “PROMPTuesday #58: We All Need One”

  1. […] Lucy and Ethel. That was us. We took turns concocting hairbrained schemes so our roles were interchangeable. The important thing was that we were in it together and if there was trouble coming, we’d each accept punishment as if we were the full-fledged ringleader, regardless. None of that turning on one another crap. […]

  2. Da Goddess says:

    No zaniness from me. I’m keeping the photos to myself for now.

  3. Mama Mary says:

    I’m finally back for a PROMPT -it’s up and running. I’m afraid mine it’s a bit juvenile but that is what fun friends are for, eh? Thanks for this one…I had a blast writing it! Cheers!

  4. Suzanne says:

    Friends who see your dark side and are compassionate enough to balance it out with your bright side to figure you’re worth sticking around for.

  5. Crystal says:

    I will get to this probably tomorrow…because today is AWARDS DAY over at my blog. Go claim yours! :)

  6. Susan says:

    I have posted about my BFF – my sis!

  7. amy, my amy. she’s wacky and zany and makes me laugh harder than any other human.
    in 5th grade, the teacher had to seat us on separate sides of the classroom lest me cut up and interrupt the daily curriculum by making funny faces and sending silly notes back and forth. in middle school, we put together a dance routine to “Tricky” by Run DMC.
    amy is now the mother of two beautiful daughters living in san diego. we still have marathon phone conversations every few months as though 15 years and 3,000 miles have never separated us. distance hasn’t separated our friendship, but i so miss seeing her smiling, dimpled face…

  8. Glynn says:

    When you Facebook friend this man, please tell you heard about him from me…

  9. San Diego Momma says:

    Thanks for playing every one! Touching, heartfelt and hilarious posts one and all!

    (And Glynn…I love your tribute!)

  10. San Diego Momma says:

    We grew close in college, sharing a certain goofiness not easily found in others. Attending school in the Midwest — Milwaukee no less — meant beer, beer, beer. (What can I say? Our dorm was within spitting distance of the Pabst Mansion.) And so much beer, beer, beer, engendered in us a kleptomaniac, chimichanga-eating, Def Leppard-acting weirdo streak I’m hard put to describe in words.


    On nights out, Kath routinely stuck shot glasses, Tabasco sauces, table tents and salt shakers in her bra for the pure thrill of it. Many mornings after, I’d find her sprawled in her bed (we were college roommates, along with 7 other girls) under nonsensical debris she’d swiped like handfuls of confetti and barbed dog collars.


    I’d never laughed so hard before or since than on those beer-fueled college pub weekends (I’m not going to delve into the ethics of it right now, nor contemplate my illicit university past), when Kath and I would rush home hand in hand at 2AM before our roommates so we could eat the rest of their birthday cake (it was always someone’s birthday) before they did. We were sorely reprimanded for that. And often. Also bitch slapped. But we always went back for more. I still remember those late sublime nights of moist cakey goodness.


    Also, somewhere out there is an epic (think Tommy) rendition of Def Leppard’s Love Bites that were it to get out now, would be grounds for a 5150 hold.


    Anyway, I was privy to Kath’s losing her virginity (my bedroom was the next room over) with “Lenguini” and her staunch defense of me when some yahoo called me “Debbie Gibson gone bad.” Kath is Italian. Her defenses were loud.


    I’m sure Kath would be surprised to learn I’ve written about her here, because we haven’t talked in a few years. And last time we did, I’m quite sure I told her all about my recent sinus infection, so she hasn’t called back.


    In any case, I miss laughing that hard. I don’t know if it was the time or the person, but I haven’t chortled like that since the night we imaginated a new Baskin Robbins’ sundae comprised of nutty poo crunch ice cream topped in warm diarrhea sauce and ovulation scrapings.


    Blame the beer.


    Also, I’m pretty sure she still has my handful of confetti.


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