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Tag Archives: humor
A Night for Making Out
Posted in flash fiction, photos of strangers, Typography
Tagged 1920s, 1930s, 1940s, art, beauty, childhood, couples, dating, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, fiction, flash fiction, found photograph, friends, funny, humor, kitsch, life, love, make out point, making out in a car, marriage, parking, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, relationships, romance, typewriter, typography, vintage
Good Old City Life
As Ethyl turned the VW bug down the dirt road, Bertha shuddered a little.
“What is it, Berth? Something the matter?”
“I’m used to cities is all. This road trip has been adventure enough without you taking this shortcut through the woods. This road is dirt, for the love of Pete!”
Ethyl smiled at her city friend. They’d instantly connected at the school where both were studying to be receptionists. Ethyl had left the family farm in search of bigger and better things, and Bertha was just killing time until her fiancé, Jasper, got back from the war.
“I grew up on roads like this. Relax, hun.”
The VW blew up a cloud of dust as Ethyl drove it a bit manically around a turn, the wheels scrambling through some pebbles and shooting them into the woods.
“Well could you slow down a bit, at least? At least consider the paint! This car is new!”
Jasper bought the car a few months before he found himself shipped out and trusted his future wife with his most prized possession.
“It’s Jasper’s most prized possession!”
“Where do you come in on that list?” Ethyl asked with a smile and a bit of attitude.
“Just under the car, darling. You should know that. Men and their toys…”
Ethyl relented and let go of the gas a little, taking the turns a bit easier.
“Thank you, dear,” Bertha said as she reached into the back seat. “Care for some coffee?”
“Actually, I’m famished! How’s about I find a place to pull over?”
“Here in the middle of nowhere?”
“Here’s as good as anywhere else!”
They drove the little powder-blue bug another mile or so until she came up to a bend in the road just before an old bridge. A picturesque clearing filled with wildflowers lined the grassy spot where Ethyl stopped the car.
“Oh look Bertha! What a place for a picnic. What do you say?”
Bertha smiled and grabbed the wicker picnic basket from the backseat. “Good thing I packed these sandwiches! God knows how long we’ll be lost out here!”
“I’m telling you,” Ethyl said with another smile, “The man at the station said this here was a shortcut. Said it would cut a good hour of driving. You want to be at your cousin’s by evening, don’t you? Or shall we camp out for the night –“
“Lord no! I’m not sleeping in a tent. We’re making it tonight if it kills us.” Ethyl let a knowing smile grow on her face. She knew just how to manipulate her city friend. The woman was clearly afraid of nature.
Bertha got out of the car, removed her cardigan and fixed her flower-print dress. After checking both shoulder straps, making sure they were just right, she threw her cardigan onto the car and pulled a blanket out of the back seat.
Ethyl loved watching this girl, an enigma to someone who grew up on a farm, as she carefully placed the blanket on the grass. “You know, there’s a perfectly good log over there.”
“You must be joking. This is an expensive dress! It’s Chanel!”
“It’s what?”
“Chanel! As in Coco?”
Ethyl raised an eyebrow. “Okay…”
“Oh you country bumpkin…what do you know!” Bertha smiled, and Ethyl laughed quite loudly, letting it echo through the trees. She was relieved to see her friend loosen up a bit.
“Well, this fabulous ensemble I’m wearing is official Wanamaker’s. The top was on sale!”
Bertha giggled as she sat down on the blanket with the basket. Meanwhile, Ethyl took out her satchel and started rooting through it for a pen and paper.
“Oh no, is the master author at it again?” Bertha teased.
Ethyl stuck out her tongue and sat on the log. Her scribbling on the pad of lined paper reverberated through the woods, disrupted only by the occasional sound of wrapper rustling as Bertha set up their lunch.
Once she had the sandwiches out and spoons in the small container of potato salad, she waited patiently for her friend to finish. She put her hands behind her head and leaned back against the car, looking up at the perfectly blue sky. Ethyl finally finished and joined her on the blanket.
“Say what you want about the city, and I will, as you know, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen the sky such a beautiful blue,” Bertha said. Ethyl dug into the potato salad and nodded. As she tried to speak a small piece of potato fell to the blanket.
“That was what I was writing about.”
“Another poem?”
“Mhmm,” she said as another piece fell to the blanket. She picked it up, inspected it and popped it into her mouth.
“Such class. It’s a wonder you were raised on a farm! I would think you came from the most fabulous finishing school in Paris!” Bertha raised an eyebrow at her friend, waiting for a response.
“Just wait until I go pee in those woods right there, then we’ll see who is refined,” she said, watching Bertha shudder a little.
“You will not!”
“I will so!”
“Don’t do it, Ethyl. There must be a ladies room around here somewhere!”
Ethyl smiled again at her friend.
“So what was your poem about?”
“Actually, it was about returning to a perfectly blue sky after spending a few months in the smoggy city.”
“Really?”
She nodded.
“That’s…kind of lovely, Eth. It really is beautiful here, I must admit. I can hear the birds and a breeze, rather than cars and yelling. And what is that sound? The one that is fairly constant?”
“Crickets, Berth.”
“Ah. Crickets. They’re kind of loud.”
“Funny, I didn’t even notice them until you pointed it out.”
“Well, it really is quite lovely.”
They continued to eat when a bug landed on Bertha. She screamed and dropped her sandwich onto her plate as she rushed to get it off her arm, flailing like an insane person. Ethyl just remained calm and continued eating. Bertha finally got rid of the bug and stood.
“I’m eating the rest in the car.”
Posted in flash fiction, photos of strangers
Tagged 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, beauty, Beetle, Bug, city, city life, coco chanel, college, country, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, fiction, flash fiction, found photograph, friends, friendship, funny, hipster, humor, kitsch, life, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, picnic, pictures, punchbuggy, relationships, retro, vintage, vintage cars, Volkswagon, VW, VW bug, writing
The Boating Trip
The Boating Trip is part of my ongoing series of flash fiction stories typed onto vintage photographs using my antique typewriter. If you like it, enter the contest to win a personalized piece here. And check out my Etsy for original prints and the book collecting around fifty of my images.
Posted in flash fiction, photos of strangers, Typography
Tagged 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, art, boat, boating, brothers, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, family, fiction, fishing, flash fiction, found photograph, friends, friendship, funny, humor, kitsch, laughs, life, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, puking, relationships, retro, seasickness, typewriter, typography, vintage, writing
Road Trip
Posted in flash fiction, photos of strangers, Typography
Tagged 1940s, 1950s, art, couples, dating, entertainment, family, fiction, flash fiction, found photograph, friends, funny, gas prices, humor, kitsch, life, love, marriage, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, relationships, road trip, romance, typewriter, typography, vintage, writing
Lost
Posted in flash fiction, photos of strangers, Typography
Tagged 1940s, art, bad short cuts, beauty, entertainment, family, fiction, flash fiction, found photograph, friends, friendship, funny, getting lost, humor, kitsch, life, love, people, photo, photograph, photography, pictures, sense of humor, short cut, typewriter, typography, vintage, writing
Hiking in Heels

Hiking in Heels, along with many other works, are available on my Etsy. And don’t forget to check out Capturing a Moment, a book by Wrags Ink that collects around fifty of my images into a nice little coffee table book. It comes with all kinds of free goodies and also can be purchased with original pieces!
Posted in flash fiction, photos of strangers, Typography
Tagged 1930s, 1940s, art, beauty, entertainment, family, flash fiction, found photograph, funny, humor, kitsch, life, love, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, poetry, typewriter, typography, vintage
People Watching in Rittenhouse
Artwork by Shalaya Holliday. Her work can be seen here.
They sat on the park bench facing each other as the lights came on and illuminated the area.
“I love this park. Especially for people watching,” he said to her. She returned a smile.
“Yes, it’s always a good spot for that.”
His eyes scanned the area and rested on a twenty-something girl with a flowered skirt, tank top and blue and white striped oversized cardigan. “Take her, for instance.”
“Yes?”
She was kind of bent over sitting on a bench across from them with her elbows on her knees, her long hair hiding her hands that could have been on her chin.
“I like her cardigan.”
“Yes, yes we both like her cardigan, but that’s not what I meant.”
She looked at the girl a bit more. Finally he broke her concentration.
“Well, is she sad? Her body language tells me she might be considerably morose.”
“I think she’s just on the phone. He hair is hiding it from our view.”
He looked again, this time with her point in mind. “You know, you might be right. But her face still looks sad, and her mouth doesn’t seem to be moving.”
The girl’s face suddenly broke into a smile, and from that to laughter.
They looked at each other and both said at the same time, “Phone.”
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged anime, art, couples, dating, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, fiction, flash fiction, funny, hipster, humor, illustration, love, people, people watching, peoplewatching, Philadelphia, Rittenhouse Square, romance, shalaya holliday, writing
The End of Harry Potter
And so we waited.
The line wrapped almost totally around the fourteen-theater building, filled with wizards of the various houses, and even a few Dobby costumes as we anxiously waited to get in. The crowd was so insane, so large, that this small New Jersey town had police both riding bikes and walking around the crowds. One was even working for the theater.
“Theater twelve is opened now. Theater twelve,” the officer, in his blue uniform and shiny badge, was saying as he passed. We frantically looked at our tickers. Damn, we were theater nine.
And so as the officer passed the line, small groups of lucky twelves bolted from the line and ran, full speed, around the corner to the front doors. Some were smart, since we were so far behind the line, to run in the direction that was against the crowd, knowing that at the end of the line they were actually closer to the front doors if they took the other direction.
A guy walked by in a Scooby Doo costume,with a friend dressed as Mario. Me, my girlfriend and my sister were confused.
“Um,” my girlfriend said.
“Who knows.”
A young girl was annoying the shit out of us. Seriously, I’ve never wanted to smack someone more than at this moment.
“My life is going to end tonight. For real. It really is. I will want to die when this is all over. DIE. I’ve lived Harry Potter for my whole life, and tonight I will die.”
Someone in front of her was holding up a DVD player and showing part one, and I could not hear it over her shrill, constant voicing of how she would die tonight. So much for the entertainment of watching the DVD.
So time passes, this girl keeps talking about death, and they finally yell out nine, so we haul ass to the front. At the main doors, there is a clusterfuck of people trying to shove their way in; there is no method to this theater’s Harry Plan at all. Cops and ushers are trying to regain order, but to no avail. We’re shoved in between about a hundred people trying to get in while others whose theater has not been called have formed a wall, keeping us legitimate patrons out.
That’s when I realized that our fourth friend, who was stuck in traffic, would not be able to get her ticket from us.
“I have to wait out here for her” I yelled above the noise. “You guys get us seats!” I pushed my way to the back of this cluster as they continued to push forward. Then waited for my phone to ring. She finally called about ten minutes later and I found her.
“They called our theater. We just have to push through this,” I said, pointing to the wall of people. Her eyes widened.
That’s when I noticed a girl with pink hair who seemed to know the trick. She stood out from the crowd and I could see her making her way through rather easily, and I said to my friend, “We need to follow her!”
I pushed my way through until I was behind her, and just as I caught up to the pink-haired girl, a path opened and she, her friend and the two of us poured through the crowd and easily made our way in.
The concession lines were small and we needed soda since the film was almost three hours and it was already midnight, so I called the others, who gave me drink orders and told us where they were sitting. A short while later and we were in the theater looking for them. My sister got up and waved, so we started to make our way. When I got to the row, I stopped. The annoying girl was sitting right next to us.
“Seriously?” I asked my girlfriend.
“She sat down after we did! It couldn’t be helped!”
And so I slumped into my seat and waited for the movie. It was a blast, the wait. I love the midnight show for two reasons. One, everyone is SO excited and acts nuts. Two, many dress up. It was intense.
“When I say Harry you say Potter!” a girl yelled.
“Harry!”
“POTTER!” the whole crowd yelled. It was cute.
During the actual film, which I loved, the obnoxious girl was crying the whole second half. Maybe crying isn’t the right word. Sobbing. Uncontrollably. To the point her mom said “Shut up!” to her. I wanted to clap.
After the film, everyone clapped, cheered and cried a bit. It was over. A
big part of our lives had just ended, and there was nothing we could do but get in our cars, go home and dream of Harry, Hermoine and Ron. And Neville…let’s not forget Neville, who finally got to be the hero he deserved to be.
Magazine Publication, Part II
A magazine for and about artists.
Hello all! Care to see my work in yet another magazine? The wonderful crew over at Racing Minds Magazine have featured me in their August issue.
The online version is here. A paper copy is also available here if you care to purchase it. Please check out all of the amazing artists, photographers and creative minds that come together in this excellent publication.
Posted in flash fiction, Typography
Tagged 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, art, artists, beauty, childhood, children, couples, dating, death, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, family, fiction, flash fiction, found art, found photograph, friends, friendship, funny, hipster, humor, kitsch, life, love, magazine, magazine publishing, people, photo, photograph, photographers, photography, photos, pictures, published, Racing Minds, relationships, romance, sad, typewriter, typography, vintage, writing








Win an Original Print!
So after These Moments had such a lovely giveaway with one of my original pieces, I had such a blast creating one for the winner that I’ve decided to have my own contest! Read about Esra’s winning image here.
What do you have to do? It’s so easy! All you have to do is comment on this post. Tell me why you should be the winner, or just say hi!
Here’s the image the last winner, Esra, got:
She told me she liked the beach, the city and listed a lot of her other passions, so I created one just for her! Want to get in on the fun? Comment below. And please, check out my upcoming book, Capturing a Moment, which collects many similar images. Not this one though, this one is JUST for Esra!
Capturing a Moment collects around fifty of Dennis Finocchiaro’s original pieces. Dennis is the author of The Z Word, a collection of flash fiction set during a zombie apocalypse. His collection of flash fiction that takes place in coffee shops, Confessions of a Coffee Shop Junkie, which came in third in The Fifteenth Dame Lisbet Throckmorton 2010 fiction writing contest, is also available on Amazon.
Capturing a Moment is available via his Etsy site. It comes signed, with a one-of-a-kind post-it flash fiction piece signed and a post card depicting two of the images. For a little bit more you can purchase the VIP version, which also comes with the original print of your choice.
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Posted in flash fiction, photos of strangers, Typography
Tagged 1920s, 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, art, beauty, childhood, children, comment, contest, couples, dating, death, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, family, fiction, flash fiction, found art, found photograph, free stuff, friends, friendship, funny, giveaway, hipster, humor, kitsch, life, love, marriage, original art, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, relationships, typewriter, typography, vintage, win, writing