Friday, August 13, 2010
Start a story with the character going through their phone messages and then stops on the third message...
Richard was dozing on the couch when Roberta finally finished creating her geocaching route for the day. "It would go so much faster if I didn't have to solve those mathematical puzzle nightmares" she complained waking Richard with a start. "Are you ready to go? Were you sleeping with your shoes on the davenport? Oh never mind, let's just go before all the good trackables are taken" She threw back the coffee Richie had made her, now cold and slipped on her Crocs.
Backing out of the driveway Roberta realized she had forgotten her route map and scrambled, with all the grace she could muster, out of the smart car. At the front door she spied her keys on the counter in the kitchen. Knowing it was going to be a bad day she decided to plow ahead anyway because she really wanted the geocoin in one of the caches. "Richie dear" she shouted back at the car "could you come open the door for me?"
Richard never dreamed this is what life had in store for him. He fought in Vietnam came back a hero and worked the next thirty years as a General in the Marines. Sure life had thrown him curve balls, he had come back from the war to find his high school sweetheart had married, he had terrible nightmares, but he got on with his life...until last fall. He had met Roberta at a close chess buddy's funeral. He found her lively (which turned to bossy) and interesting, (which became too talkative). Looking back over the last few months he realized he was mostly taken by her vulnerability. She lived in an old farmhouse that was settling back into the earth and needed someone to take care of her. Having just lost his closest friend and having trouble getting used to being simply ordinary he decided to give marriage a try. Now he viewed himself as a blue collar, chauffeuring Roberta from one pine tree to the next so she could dig around for junk. He had to stop his travels after marriage, Roberta was content to stay at home knitting things no one wanted and sending her travel termites, or whatever she called them out into the world. She spent her life with the computer, not him. Not exactly the life he had in mind. He was neither needed nor valued and starved for adventure. Clambering out of the car he unlocked the door and waited while Roberta flitted about the house looking for her lost list. She came bustling back with the list "Oh I hope we make good time, I want to be at the Hamfield Mall before school lets out."
Nearly an hour later and 20 miles down the road Roberta had logged 10 finds, 2 no finds and had exchanged one small cooler full of toys for another full of, well junk. Richard was already exhausted, hot, and hungry, but Roberta was just getting started. While Richard was pulling back onto the road Roberta let out a yelp and tossed a spider out the window. Richard swerved almost clipping a motorcyclist who in turn gave him the finger yelling something about a cod sucker? Odd time to be talking fishing, but Richard let out his frustrations on Roberta, grabbing her list and driving home after throwing it out the window. Roberta sat stunned.
**
Stephen Bale, now known as Edward Stoltzfus, woke when the vehicle turned off the pavement onto a dirt road. It was completely dark when they pulled up to what was to be his home. it looked pretty much as he had planned, a white farm house in the middle of nowhere. "Your nearest neighbors will be the Hochstetlers, who live over there about a mile, you'll see the house in the morning" the deputy searched for something to say. "It won't be an easy life, but disappearing never is...want us to help with your bags or anything?" Stephen now Edward said "nah, but let me make sure this key works 'for you go, I don't want to be sleeping with the neighbors, well not yet at least." "Son" the deputy barked " these are respectable people and that kind of humor will get you in trouble...with me, so I better not hear any complaints about you. Leave them alone and they'll do the same. Goodnight". Before Ed had a chance to put the key in the door the deputy's car had turned around leaving him in the dark. Having been in special ops before this whole deal, he got in the house by punching through the window. Once in he found the place to be empty. Oh, there was a table and some chairs, but the spot where the big screen should be was barren, and there were no lines for the Internet. He figured he would deal with the shock in the morning and headed up the stairs with his two duffles. The only furniture on the second floor was a bed, no sheets, no clocks. This wasn't the Motel 6 or his Grannies house, but he was alive and given a chance to start over with a measly $500 in the bank. He took off his black cowboy boots and fell fitfully asleep on the cold lumpy bed.
**
Roberta decided to give Richard the silent treatment. She was unconcerned about his anger, he was always angry these days, but that list!! It took her all yesterday evening and this morning to compose. Some things were just impossible to replace. she tried to jot down as much as she could remember.
Richard took the opportunity of Roberta's pouting to play solitaire on the computer, it wasn't often he got the computer AND silence. He should learn from their afternoon and reenact it more often, without the motorcyclist of course. In between games an advertisement for a vintage car show came up. He had never really been interested in vintage cars, or any car for that matter, but he thought it sounded like a nice trip. It could be made in a day, but if he played his cards right he could get Roberta to stay at the casino, they showed pictures of a stunning buffet. This afternoon had cleared his head and suddenly he knew what he had to do. If he won the next game he would go by himself and maybe leave her, if he lost he would make her go with him. He lost.
Roberta was just getting ready to give up when Richie started into the kitchen "Listen here Roberta, I married someone to be my companion and not my boss and we are going to go away for the weekend, and we are going to a vintage car show and we are spending the night, maybe two, at the casino and I don't want to hear nothing more about it! I expect you to be packed and ready to go by 9am Friday morning, that gives you three and a half days to get packed and cancel your plans!" He then stood there waiting for the whining, or at least that frowny face that made her look like a troll, but got neither. Finally she found her voice "OK Richie if that's what you want to do, you don't like this treasure hunt stuff much do you?" Feeling himself melting a little he let himself be truthful "I don't much see the point of it! Toting this junk here, moving this crap there, all the while being sneaky- you're not a boy scout Roberta! It's just plain ridiculous!!" She looked like she was going to cry but said "will you make the reservations then?" As he turned to leave she added "You know I just get so fidgety, it gave me something to do, something to look forward to everyday...it was a goal for me. You have all your medals and buddies, but I don't have anything to look back at, no one will remember me..." he didn't respond but cleared his throat and moved out of the room that was now becoming uncomfortable. It wasn't until he got back on the computer that he realised all that just occurred. They had just talked more in the last minute then they had for their entire marriage. Maybe this weekend could be a sort of starting over for them. In fact, he would make reservations for dinner tonight at that little salad place Roberta always mentioned wanting to try. He sat down with a misson and felt a little like his old self.
**
Edward woke with a start a little before dawn. Laying with every muscle tensed he couldn't figure out what had awaken him. There was no way he could have been found that quickly, he was off the grid and had spoke to a single person in the past 24 hours. Then he heard the noise again. It was coming from downstairs, movement, a rustling. Grabbing for his colt, then realizing he didn't have it (part of the relocation agreement) grabbed his boot instead. He could wreck havoc with his steel toed boot if necessary. Ever so slowly he inched off the bed and started down the hall. He heard chatter once he got to the stairs, almost like children's voices. That's just what he needed on his first day of his new life, to strike a child dead with his boot. The chatter didn't start back up, but the movement did. He ever so quietly placed his foot on the first step, which groaned, then the second, which creaked. Cursing he then went for it and slid down the banister to turn and stare straight into the eyes of his attacker. The attacker reared up in surprise alerting the other who appeared by the back door, which was swinging open. Confirming that Edward was not a man to be messed with both raccoons scurried out into the night through the door he evidently never shut completely last night. "Bandits" He grumbled once his heart stopped racing. He decided he was up for the day and might as well start with a cup of coffee. Then he remembered he had no coffee, no coffee pot, and certainly no electricity to plug a pot into. Thinking about how long $500 would last he decided to go to a tourist trap and eat breakfast, after a shower and shave.
Standing in the bedroom going through the clothes he packed, he was told to pack inconspicuous clothing, he couldn't decide between the blue plaid or the t-shirt that read "I'm with stupid". Now that he was here he realized "I'm with stupid" may have been a bad choice. He lugged his black cargo pants and blue plaid around the second floor twice before he decided the bath must be on the first floor. A thorough search through the whole house including the cellar revealed no bathroom. He stood at the back door to relieve himself and decided he too would have to go primitive and use the pump in the kitchen to pump water and heat it on the stove. However, he couldn't find a pot nor a stove. "Welcome to hell" he shouted at the empty wall before going into hysterics, " I should have just let them kill me" he said quieter.
Ten minutes later he was walking up the road in the direction he hoped was town. "Guten Morgen" someone shouted from out of the gloomy dawn. He stopped, but didn't see anyone so began moving again slower and quieter. "What are you on about there sir?" this time he could see a shadow forming and instinctively reached for his empty belt. He was just about to bend down for his boot, thinking how inconvenient this was going to be, when the figure took the shape of a man in a funny hat. "Eh, you must be the neighbor then?! Welcome, Welcome" he said enthusiastically mistaking Steve's maneuver as friendly. "That's quite an interesting shirt you've got on there."
Backing out of the driveway Roberta realized she had forgotten her route map and scrambled, with all the grace she could muster, out of the smart car. At the front door she spied her keys on the counter in the kitchen. Knowing it was going to be a bad day she decided to plow ahead anyway because she really wanted the geocoin in one of the caches. "Richie dear" she shouted back at the car "could you come open the door for me?"
Richard never dreamed this is what life had in store for him. He fought in Vietnam came back a hero and worked the next thirty years as a General in the Marines. Sure life had thrown him curve balls, he had come back from the war to find his high school sweetheart had married, he had terrible nightmares, but he got on with his life...until last fall. He had met Roberta at a close chess buddy's funeral. He found her lively (which turned to bossy) and interesting, (which became too talkative). Looking back over the last few months he realized he was mostly taken by her vulnerability. She lived in an old farmhouse that was settling back into the earth and needed someone to take care of her. Having just lost his closest friend and having trouble getting used to being simply ordinary he decided to give marriage a try. Now he viewed himself as a blue collar, chauffeuring Roberta from one pine tree to the next so she could dig around for junk. He had to stop his travels after marriage, Roberta was content to stay at home knitting things no one wanted and sending her travel termites, or whatever she called them out into the world. She spent her life with the computer, not him. Not exactly the life he had in mind. He was neither needed nor valued and starved for adventure. Clambering out of the car he unlocked the door and waited while Roberta flitted about the house looking for her lost list. She came bustling back with the list "Oh I hope we make good time, I want to be at the Hamfield Mall before school lets out."
Nearly an hour later and 20 miles down the road Roberta had logged 10 finds, 2 no finds and had exchanged one small cooler full of toys for another full of, well junk. Richard was already exhausted, hot, and hungry, but Roberta was just getting started. While Richard was pulling back onto the road Roberta let out a yelp and tossed a spider out the window. Richard swerved almost clipping a motorcyclist who in turn gave him the finger yelling something about a cod sucker? Odd time to be talking fishing, but Richard let out his frustrations on Roberta, grabbing her list and driving home after throwing it out the window. Roberta sat stunned.
**
Stephen Bale, now known as Edward Stoltzfus, woke when the vehicle turned off the pavement onto a dirt road. It was completely dark when they pulled up to what was to be his home. it looked pretty much as he had planned, a white farm house in the middle of nowhere. "Your nearest neighbors will be the Hochstetlers, who live over there about a mile, you'll see the house in the morning" the deputy searched for something to say. "It won't be an easy life, but disappearing never is...want us to help with your bags or anything?" Stephen now Edward said "nah, but let me make sure this key works 'for you go, I don't want to be sleeping with the neighbors, well not yet at least." "Son" the deputy barked " these are respectable people and that kind of humor will get you in trouble...with me, so I better not hear any complaints about you. Leave them alone and they'll do the same. Goodnight". Before Ed had a chance to put the key in the door the deputy's car had turned around leaving him in the dark. Having been in special ops before this whole deal, he got in the house by punching through the window. Once in he found the place to be empty. Oh, there was a table and some chairs, but the spot where the big screen should be was barren, and there were no lines for the Internet. He figured he would deal with the shock in the morning and headed up the stairs with his two duffles. The only furniture on the second floor was a bed, no sheets, no clocks. This wasn't the Motel 6 or his Grannies house, but he was alive and given a chance to start over with a measly $500 in the bank. He took off his black cowboy boots and fell fitfully asleep on the cold lumpy bed.
**
Roberta decided to give Richard the silent treatment. She was unconcerned about his anger, he was always angry these days, but that list!! It took her all yesterday evening and this morning to compose. Some things were just impossible to replace. she tried to jot down as much as she could remember.
Richard took the opportunity of Roberta's pouting to play solitaire on the computer, it wasn't often he got the computer AND silence. He should learn from their afternoon and reenact it more often, without the motorcyclist of course. In between games an advertisement for a vintage car show came up. He had never really been interested in vintage cars, or any car for that matter, but he thought it sounded like a nice trip. It could be made in a day, but if he played his cards right he could get Roberta to stay at the casino, they showed pictures of a stunning buffet. This afternoon had cleared his head and suddenly he knew what he had to do. If he won the next game he would go by himself and maybe leave her, if he lost he would make her go with him. He lost.
Roberta was just getting ready to give up when Richie started into the kitchen "Listen here Roberta, I married someone to be my companion and not my boss and we are going to go away for the weekend, and we are going to a vintage car show and we are spending the night, maybe two, at the casino and I don't want to hear nothing more about it! I expect you to be packed and ready to go by 9am Friday morning, that gives you three and a half days to get packed and cancel your plans!" He then stood there waiting for the whining, or at least that frowny face that made her look like a troll, but got neither. Finally she found her voice "OK Richie if that's what you want to do, you don't like this treasure hunt stuff much do you?" Feeling himself melting a little he let himself be truthful "I don't much see the point of it! Toting this junk here, moving this crap there, all the while being sneaky- you're not a boy scout Roberta! It's just plain ridiculous!!" She looked like she was going to cry but said "will you make the reservations then?" As he turned to leave she added "You know I just get so fidgety, it gave me something to do, something to look forward to everyday...it was a goal for me. You have all your medals and buddies, but I don't have anything to look back at, no one will remember me..." he didn't respond but cleared his throat and moved out of the room that was now becoming uncomfortable. It wasn't until he got back on the computer that he realised all that just occurred. They had just talked more in the last minute then they had for their entire marriage. Maybe this weekend could be a sort of starting over for them. In fact, he would make reservations for dinner tonight at that little salad place Roberta always mentioned wanting to try. He sat down with a misson and felt a little like his old self.
**
Edward woke with a start a little before dawn. Laying with every muscle tensed he couldn't figure out what had awaken him. There was no way he could have been found that quickly, he was off the grid and had spoke to a single person in the past 24 hours. Then he heard the noise again. It was coming from downstairs, movement, a rustling. Grabbing for his colt, then realizing he didn't have it (part of the relocation agreement) grabbed his boot instead. He could wreck havoc with his steel toed boot if necessary. Ever so slowly he inched off the bed and started down the hall. He heard chatter once he got to the stairs, almost like children's voices. That's just what he needed on his first day of his new life, to strike a child dead with his boot. The chatter didn't start back up, but the movement did. He ever so quietly placed his foot on the first step, which groaned, then the second, which creaked. Cursing he then went for it and slid down the banister to turn and stare straight into the eyes of his attacker. The attacker reared up in surprise alerting the other who appeared by the back door, which was swinging open. Confirming that Edward was not a man to be messed with both raccoons scurried out into the night through the door he evidently never shut completely last night. "Bandits" He grumbled once his heart stopped racing. He decided he was up for the day and might as well start with a cup of coffee. Then he remembered he had no coffee, no coffee pot, and certainly no electricity to plug a pot into. Thinking about how long $500 would last he decided to go to a tourist trap and eat breakfast, after a shower and shave.
Standing in the bedroom going through the clothes he packed, he was told to pack inconspicuous clothing, he couldn't decide between the blue plaid or the t-shirt that read "I'm with stupid". Now that he was here he realized "I'm with stupid" may have been a bad choice. He lugged his black cargo pants and blue plaid around the second floor twice before he decided the bath must be on the first floor. A thorough search through the whole house including the cellar revealed no bathroom. He stood at the back door to relieve himself and decided he too would have to go primitive and use the pump in the kitchen to pump water and heat it on the stove. However, he couldn't find a pot nor a stove. "Welcome to hell" he shouted at the empty wall before going into hysterics, " I should have just let them kill me" he said quieter.
Ten minutes later he was walking up the road in the direction he hoped was town. "Guten Morgen" someone shouted from out of the gloomy dawn. He stopped, but didn't see anyone so began moving again slower and quieter. "What are you on about there sir?" this time he could see a shadow forming and instinctively reached for his empty belt. He was just about to bend down for his boot, thinking how inconvenient this was going to be, when the figure took the shape of a man in a funny hat. "Eh, you must be the neighbor then?! Welcome, Welcome" he said enthusiastically mistaking Steve's maneuver as friendly. "That's quite an interesting shirt you've got on there."
Write an excuse for not working today.
Most Horribly Sorry By: Curlyfro
To whom it may concern,
I am most terribly sorry but I will not be coming to work today. I lost a tooth, and not just any tooth, but the top front one, while eating corn on the cob last night at my niece's birthday party, and then promptly swallowed it. The Dentist told me I must find it in order to fix this gap that my tongue keeps flicking out of (spraying people, it is simply dreadful). Since my teeth are so large and stained, you know I was down to five cups of coffee a day, he is insisting he must have the original tooth. I would love to make up my hours at another time, possibly after the big project is completed, approved, and implemented and will be smiling in no time. The dentist claims no one will ever know my tooth had fallen out, so if you can't tell, that is why! What technology and a wonderful dentist can do!
P.S. Please don't call, I won't be available to pick up the phone since I will be playing archaeologist and if you drop by I will expect you to at least help in the big dig!
"Good Morning this is Sharon." the voice said at the other end of the phone.
"Hello, Good Morning this is aaah Peggy. I will..."
"Our office hours are 8:30 am. until 5:30 pm weekdays and we are closed on weekends." the answering machine continued. "Please call back during office hours. Thank you for calling." Followed by the dial tone.
"Oh shoot I finally got up enough nerve and then no one answers. It's eight forty-five someone should be there by now. Sharon why aren't you there? Why isn't someone there? I couldn't sleep last night worrying how I was going to deliver this so it sounded real. Oh this waiting is killing me. It's shredding my confidence."
"I should just go into work. This isn't worth it. I could lose my job from lying. What if someone calls me later today to check on me. OMG I feel like I'm getting sick. I can't get sick I promised Aunt Susie I would go to that awesome, three day flea market with her in Indiana. Okay, okay calm down...I can do this. I've got time I must pull myself together. Just review the excuse and make it sound believable."
"What time is it? What... it's still eight forty-five? It can't be...hasn't it been at least ten minutes ago when I last looked at the clock? OMG I'm talking to myself. I've become a raving maniac."
"Just take a sip of tea. It will calm your nerves. That's what chai always does for you. Now breathe in slowly and release. One more time, breathe in anndd release. Just remember to stop with the first lie. Don't keep adding things to make it believable. Just S T O P talking and you will be fine."
"I'm ready, I can do this."
"Come on fingers please do this for me. I promise I will take you to Fashion Nails for a manicure next payday, I promise!"
"It's ringing.....two rings....please, please....three!"
"Good morning this is Lyer, Fibbs, & Purjur Law office, this is Sharon speaking how may I direct your call? Sharon addressed the phone very pleasant and professional.
"Hey there Sharon this is Peggy. (Crap, I must sound ill...not chipper....stupid, stupid,stupid you're going to ruin this.")
"Hello, I'm sorry I didn't hear you, we must have a bad connection. Would you please repeat your name?" Sharon apologized.
("Oh Sharon you are a dream come true.") "Hi Sharon this is Peg gee. I had a horrible accident and can't make it to work. I must have several x-rays done today with lab work and tests; who knows how long that will take but hopefully I will be better on Monday and if not I will call you if I'm able. See I was doing the wash last night with an old wringer washer and I put too much in the rollers, the top popped off from the clogged towels and when I pushed the top back down I must have been standing too close and got my...well I'm not sure how to tell you but one of my right ones... well I only have one right one but it got caught in the wringer and the top wouldn't pop and just kept taking me in all the way up to my underarm. I had to yank the plug on the washer out of the wall with my foot to stop it. Oh and since I wear an underwire the wire got caught in the roller mechanism which caused it to break in two under my right boob which punctured it. Not the roller or my breast...it punctured my bra. I noticed this morning that it still hasn't gone back to it's normal shape, no not the roller or the bra but my boob. It's as flat as a blueberry pancake from all the bruising and hangs to my belly button. I also noticed when I took my shower this morning there appears to be a lump in between my two girls. Yes I call them my girls. Their names are Bobbi and Swayin. I think maybe the roller pushed some of my right one up there in the middle. I don't know how to gather my right one up to put it in my bra, should I roll it on a crayon or start with my bra at my waist and try to bunch it up. And then what do I do with the middle one? Do you think a sports bra would be able to handle it? Sharon are you there? Are those voices I hear? OMG you didn't! Please tell me you didn't?"
A chorus of voices said, "Oh Peggy....get well soon. We can't wait to see you and the triplets on Monday." Which was followed by earsplitting laughter.
To whom it may concern,
I am most terribly sorry but I will not be coming to work today. I lost a tooth, and not just any tooth, but the top front one, while eating corn on the cob last night at my niece's birthday party, and then promptly swallowed it. The Dentist told me I must find it in order to fix this gap that my tongue keeps flicking out of (spraying people, it is simply dreadful). Since my teeth are so large and stained, you know I was down to five cups of coffee a day, he is insisting he must have the original tooth. I would love to make up my hours at another time, possibly after the big project is completed, approved, and implemented and will be smiling in no time. The dentist claims no one will ever know my tooth had fallen out, so if you can't tell, that is why! What technology and a wonderful dentist can do!
P.S. Please don't call, I won't be available to pick up the phone since I will be playing archaeologist and if you drop by I will expect you to at least help in the big dig!
SO WHERE IS PEGGY? BY LAMOMMASITA
"Hello, Good Morning this is aaah Peggy. I will..."
"Our office hours are 8:30 am. until 5:30 pm weekdays and we are closed on weekends." the answering machine continued. "Please call back during office hours. Thank you for calling." Followed by the dial tone.
"Oh shoot I finally got up enough nerve and then no one answers. It's eight forty-five someone should be there by now. Sharon why aren't you there? Why isn't someone there? I couldn't sleep last night worrying how I was going to deliver this so it sounded real. Oh this waiting is killing me. It's shredding my confidence."
"I should just go into work. This isn't worth it. I could lose my job from lying. What if someone calls me later today to check on me. OMG I feel like I'm getting sick. I can't get sick I promised Aunt Susie I would go to that awesome, three day flea market with her in Indiana. Okay, okay calm down...I can do this. I've got time I must pull myself together. Just review the excuse and make it sound believable."
"What time is it? What... it's still eight forty-five? It can't be...hasn't it been at least ten minutes ago when I last looked at the clock? OMG I'm talking to myself. I've become a raving maniac."
"Just take a sip of tea. It will calm your nerves. That's what chai always does for you. Now breathe in slowly and release. One more time, breathe in anndd release. Just remember to stop with the first lie. Don't keep adding things to make it believable. Just S T O P talking and you will be fine."
"I'm ready, I can do this."
"Come on fingers please do this for me. I promise I will take you to Fashion Nails for a manicure next payday, I promise!"
"It's ringing.....two rings....please, please....three!"
"Good morning this is Lyer, Fibbs, & Purjur Law office, this is Sharon speaking how may I direct your call? Sharon addressed the phone very pleasant and professional.
"Hey there Sharon this is Peggy. (Crap, I must sound ill...not chipper....stupid, stupid,stupid you're going to ruin this.")
"Hello, I'm sorry I didn't hear you, we must have a bad connection. Would you please repeat your name?" Sharon apologized.
("Oh Sharon you are a dream come true.") "Hi Sharon this is Peg gee. I had a horrible accident and can't make it to work. I must have several x-rays done today with lab work and tests; who knows how long that will take but hopefully I will be better on Monday and if not I will call you if I'm able. See I was doing the wash last night with an old wringer washer and I put too much in the rollers, the top popped off from the clogged towels and when I pushed the top back down I must have been standing too close and got my...well I'm not sure how to tell you but one of my right ones... well I only have one right one but it got caught in the wringer and the top wouldn't pop and just kept taking me in all the way up to my underarm. I had to yank the plug on the washer out of the wall with my foot to stop it. Oh and since I wear an underwire the wire got caught in the roller mechanism which caused it to break in two under my right boob which punctured it. Not the roller or my breast...it punctured my bra. I noticed this morning that it still hasn't gone back to it's normal shape, no not the roller or the bra but my boob. It's as flat as a blueberry pancake from all the bruising and hangs to my belly button. I also noticed when I took my shower this morning there appears to be a lump in between my two girls. Yes I call them my girls. Their names are Bobbi and Swayin. I think maybe the roller pushed some of my right one up there in the middle. I don't know how to gather my right one up to put it in my bra, should I roll it on a crayon or start with my bra at my waist and try to bunch it up. And then what do I do with the middle one? Do you think a sports bra would be able to handle it? Sharon are you there? Are those voices I hear? OMG you didn't! Please tell me you didn't?"
A chorus of voices said, "Oh Peggy....get well soon. We can't wait to see you and the triplets on Monday." Which was followed by earsplitting laughter.
Rewrite Snow White from Bashful, one of the seven dwarves' perspective
Fairytale Ending By Curlyfro
"Wowsers" Bashful thought as all seven dwarfs stood at the end of their California king size bed. She could be the fairest in the land, even if she was at the moment drooling on his pillow. Sleepy had found her when he went to take his 5:30 nap and was in the process of climbing up with her to fall asleep as well. Grumpy on the other hand was already pissing and moaning about the dirt she had clobbered off her shoes and left all over the house. "And look at her blasted dress!" he exclaimed making her stir. Happy informed them that it was "just leaves and grass, it'l warsh right off!" just then Sneezy coughed, startling the girl awake. Mistaking the seven little men for goblins, which happened frequently, she screamed. Happy was left to get the explanation on why she had wandered into their house and was sleeping on their bed as the others filed out of the room. All but Sleepy of course, who had already fallen asleep.
Around the kitchen table Bashful talked about how the same thing had happened last week to those three bears that lived in Timberland. "I heard she slept with all three bears!" he whispered while rubbing his hands together. "She was drooling on my pillow, so that means she likes me most!" Sneezy was downing his fourth bottle of wild turkey while thinking what a stroke of luck it was to have a woman in the house, she could keep his liqueur cabinet stocked and cook, wash the dishes, wash the clothes, and roll his smokes. With that he burped, then hiccuped twice and fell off the chair. Grumpy caught the bottle before it hit the floor and ranted about what filthy slobs his brothers were. Doc suddenly came to the conclusion that they could hold her for ransom and use the money to...and there he paused and looked around worriedly. "Use it at horse track?" Dopey inquired innocently before going into a sneezing fit and rubbing his eyes. As if called, Tucker, their long haired tom cat, hoped into Dopey's lap sending him into another sneezing fit. Bashful had slipped to his anatomy book collection and went straight to the well thumbed page. "Wowsers" he mumbled again thinking the penny he had thrown into the town fountain every week since he was 15 had finally paid off. He must have become handsome overnight to win such a prize!
Ten minutes later Bashful leaped up and scurried to the bedroom. "Happy, let's make her feel at home and have her take a shower, she can borrow some of my pajamas, and we'll wash her clothes, I can wash her hair, powder her back and shave her legs!" Snow White, as Happy had learned her name, looked appallingly at Bashful and claimed she really must be off. "Oh no ya don't my sweet!" Happy now declared louder than necessary since his medication was wearing off. "You'll be working off the damage ye done to our house in our absence!" Snow White was oblivious to what damage she had done, seeing that she had just come in to get warm and take a nap. Bashful returned with his footie pajamas and escorted Snow White into the bathroom. After 10 minutes of screaming and thrashing bashful scrambled out with a black eye and decided he would be armed with Happy's medication when he met her in the morning.
So began Snow White's imprisonment with the seven dwarfs. Occasionally in the next four months one of the Dwarfs would see something on America's most wanted about an elderly lady, who looked a lot like Cruella De Vil, wanted for the murder of a Snow White whose picture would then flash up on the screen. Or there would be an article on the online news about a body found that was claimed to be Snow White's. Doc spent most of his days scheming on how to get the most cold hard cash out of Snow White. He already had her making toys for Santa's elves on the black market in between making calls for telemarketing. She hadn't quite gotten the accent down, but she was bringing in enough to support both Sneezy and Doc's addictions. It was around this time that Dopey and Happy were getting prescriptions filled, for Benadryl and Zoloft (Happy didn't know how his bottle was always empty these days) that Grumpy had seen the most perfect red apples and grabbed one while paying for the prescriptions. When asked what they were for Grumpy had cheerily replied with "an apple a day keeps the doc away!". Doc was by far the dirtiest brother and since his gambling debt was paid off and he didn't have to fear debt collectors, he was spending more time at home on the computer playing online poker.
Grumpy's good mood lasted exactly 14 minutes, until he got home and found Snow White sick in the bathroom. When questioned how long she had been sick Bashful claimed ignorance, but everyone could see, well except for Sleepy who didn't see much beyond his eyelids, she had been gaining weight. The thought of little ones messing up the house was the last straw for Grumpy. He simply packed a bag and left. Surprisingly Doc followed him out the door shortly after he printed something from the Internet.
Doc waited until Grumpy got into town to pull him into the bar and explain his scheme. Doc had been researching surrogate mothers and planned to have Snow White bring in a little more income. They both went home happy once again, until they found Snow White out cold in the kitchen. Each brother had a different fear going through his head. Bashful thought he had overdosed her on Zoloft and was toying with the idea of calling a taxadermist. Dopey thought maybe she was allergic to the cat and finally her heart gave out. Sneezy assumed she had been trying out his beverages and had liver failure. Happy thought she had committed suicide and Doc thought she was just trying to get out of work. Grumpy was the only one who noticed the apple he had bought earlier under the cabinet with a bite out of it.
Summer turned to winter when finally Bashful declared he thought Snow White needed the midwife. The midwife was sent for and another unknown guest arrived bringing a bassinet. The baby was born uneventfully for all but the scheming pair, who were counting their coins. The baby was cleaned up and the guest was handed her purchase, but surprised them all by asking to stay the night. She claimed she couldn't start out into the cold night with such a new baby. Grumbling, the dwarfs agreed but charged her an outrageous price for the one bed.
Snow White had been unconscious on the bedroom floor since the apple incident and everyone but Bashful thought it was time to get rid of the body, so the next day she was going to be dumped in the woods. Wouldn't you know it, the guest was the Queen, now really the fariest of them all since Snow White had gained weight and was now addicted to Zoloft, whose side effects may include diarea, insomnia, and nausea. The Queen woke Snow White up with some spirit of hartshorn, which could be fatal if used for prolonged periods, and they snuck off into the night. Snow White thinking she was escaping, the Queen thinking free LEGAL labor! Two months down the road we will find Snow White, going by the name Cinderella, with bleached hair and glass slippers going to a ball.
"Wowsers" Bashful thought as all seven dwarfs stood at the end of their California king size bed. She could be the fairest in the land, even if she was at the moment drooling on his pillow. Sleepy had found her when he went to take his 5:30 nap and was in the process of climbing up with her to fall asleep as well. Grumpy on the other hand was already pissing and moaning about the dirt she had clobbered off her shoes and left all over the house. "And look at her blasted dress!" he exclaimed making her stir. Happy informed them that it was "just leaves and grass, it'l warsh right off!" just then Sneezy coughed, startling the girl awake. Mistaking the seven little men for goblins, which happened frequently, she screamed. Happy was left to get the explanation on why she had wandered into their house and was sleeping on their bed as the others filed out of the room. All but Sleepy of course, who had already fallen asleep.
Around the kitchen table Bashful talked about how the same thing had happened last week to those three bears that lived in Timberland. "I heard she slept with all three bears!" he whispered while rubbing his hands together. "She was drooling on my pillow, so that means she likes me most!" Sneezy was downing his fourth bottle of wild turkey while thinking what a stroke of luck it was to have a woman in the house, she could keep his liqueur cabinet stocked and cook, wash the dishes, wash the clothes, and roll his smokes. With that he burped, then hiccuped twice and fell off the chair. Grumpy caught the bottle before it hit the floor and ranted about what filthy slobs his brothers were. Doc suddenly came to the conclusion that they could hold her for ransom and use the money to...and there he paused and looked around worriedly. "Use it at horse track?" Dopey inquired innocently before going into a sneezing fit and rubbing his eyes. As if called, Tucker, their long haired tom cat, hoped into Dopey's lap sending him into another sneezing fit. Bashful had slipped to his anatomy book collection and went straight to the well thumbed page. "Wowsers" he mumbled again thinking the penny he had thrown into the town fountain every week since he was 15 had finally paid off. He must have become handsome overnight to win such a prize!
Ten minutes later Bashful leaped up and scurried to the bedroom. "Happy, let's make her feel at home and have her take a shower, she can borrow some of my pajamas, and we'll wash her clothes, I can wash her hair, powder her back and shave her legs!" Snow White, as Happy had learned her name, looked appallingly at Bashful and claimed she really must be off. "Oh no ya don't my sweet!" Happy now declared louder than necessary since his medication was wearing off. "You'll be working off the damage ye done to our house in our absence!" Snow White was oblivious to what damage she had done, seeing that she had just come in to get warm and take a nap. Bashful returned with his footie pajamas and escorted Snow White into the bathroom. After 10 minutes of screaming and thrashing bashful scrambled out with a black eye and decided he would be armed with Happy's medication when he met her in the morning.
So began Snow White's imprisonment with the seven dwarfs. Occasionally in the next four months one of the Dwarfs would see something on America's most wanted about an elderly lady, who looked a lot like Cruella De Vil, wanted for the murder of a Snow White whose picture would then flash up on the screen. Or there would be an article on the online news about a body found that was claimed to be Snow White's. Doc spent most of his days scheming on how to get the most cold hard cash out of Snow White. He already had her making toys for Santa's elves on the black market in between making calls for telemarketing. She hadn't quite gotten the accent down, but she was bringing in enough to support both Sneezy and Doc's addictions. It was around this time that Dopey and Happy were getting prescriptions filled, for Benadryl and Zoloft (Happy didn't know how his bottle was always empty these days) that Grumpy had seen the most perfect red apples and grabbed one while paying for the prescriptions. When asked what they were for Grumpy had cheerily replied with "an apple a day keeps the doc away!". Doc was by far the dirtiest brother and since his gambling debt was paid off and he didn't have to fear debt collectors, he was spending more time at home on the computer playing online poker.
Grumpy's good mood lasted exactly 14 minutes, until he got home and found Snow White sick in the bathroom. When questioned how long she had been sick Bashful claimed ignorance, but everyone could see, well except for Sleepy who didn't see much beyond his eyelids, she had been gaining weight. The thought of little ones messing up the house was the last straw for Grumpy. He simply packed a bag and left. Surprisingly Doc followed him out the door shortly after he printed something from the Internet.
Doc waited until Grumpy got into town to pull him into the bar and explain his scheme. Doc had been researching surrogate mothers and planned to have Snow White bring in a little more income. They both went home happy once again, until they found Snow White out cold in the kitchen. Each brother had a different fear going through his head. Bashful thought he had overdosed her on Zoloft and was toying with the idea of calling a taxadermist. Dopey thought maybe she was allergic to the cat and finally her heart gave out. Sneezy assumed she had been trying out his beverages and had liver failure. Happy thought she had committed suicide and Doc thought she was just trying to get out of work. Grumpy was the only one who noticed the apple he had bought earlier under the cabinet with a bite out of it.
Summer turned to winter when finally Bashful declared he thought Snow White needed the midwife. The midwife was sent for and another unknown guest arrived bringing a bassinet. The baby was born uneventfully for all but the scheming pair, who were counting their coins. The baby was cleaned up and the guest was handed her purchase, but surprised them all by asking to stay the night. She claimed she couldn't start out into the cold night with such a new baby. Grumbling, the dwarfs agreed but charged her an outrageous price for the one bed.
Snow White had been unconscious on the bedroom floor since the apple incident and everyone but Bashful thought it was time to get rid of the body, so the next day she was going to be dumped in the woods. Wouldn't you know it, the guest was the Queen, now really the fariest of them all since Snow White had gained weight and was now addicted to Zoloft, whose side effects may include diarea, insomnia, and nausea. The Queen woke Snow White up with some spirit of hartshorn, which could be fatal if used for prolonged periods, and they snuck off into the night. Snow White thinking she was escaping, the Queen thinking free LEGAL labor! Two months down the road we will find Snow White, going by the name Cinderella, with bleached hair and glass slippers going to a ball.
Write an instructional narrative of making the perfect cup of coffee.
The Perfect Brew By Curlyfro
Making the perfect coffee is like going to heaven and stealing a cloud! I know you can't drink a cloud, but just imagine what a cloud could taste like! For me it would taste like a perfect cup of coffee. No, wait, that is cotton candy. Cotton Candy tastes like a cloud...
CUT
Oh dear, you know I couldn't sleep last night and then there was the storm that made me late this morning, so I never really had a chance to write out what I was going to say, and I don't even really like coffee anyway. You want me to just read the back of the can? OK.
ACTION
Thank you for tuning in, The best part of waking up is......
CUT
What? I thought that was really good, I was starting to get into it. Should I have swished my hips more, or maybe I could sing the directions I really have quite a lovely voice. La la la la aaaaa! You want me to just do it from the heart? Ok then I will...ok.
ACTION
Today we are going to make the Perfect Cup of Coffee. You'll woo that man right out bed if you make the coffee strong enough. Then maybe he will actually fix the dishwasher, or change the oil in the car or walk the dog once you put the right amount of perk in his Joe. And if that doesn't work you can always "accidentally" spray the oven cleaner in the coffee beans while you're brewing. If you are going to do this second step it is best to have a big, strong, young man nearby to help you hide the body...err...coffee grinds.
END
EXCUSE ME HILDA, THE CAMERA MAN WANTS TO GET A PICTURE OF YOU WORKING.
"Ahh, okay.
Now I start again. Now where was I? Oh I puts the clear water in the steeless steel pot and den you sprinkle over the perfectly ground coffee beans a .23 gram of white ground salt. Remember to purchase only the best. You can tell tis da best, it is da most expensive salt. Why da hell does I needs so many freaking people in my kitchen whens I try to makes coffee ? Gets da hell out of here I will do it meself. I can shot photos, I have better camera & lighting. Better yet just go home yous don't deserve any of dis you bunch of free loading tea drinking pansies pigs!"
Making the perfect coffee is like going to heaven and stealing a cloud! I know you can't drink a cloud, but just imagine what a cloud could taste like! For me it would taste like a perfect cup of coffee. No, wait, that is cotton candy. Cotton Candy tastes like a cloud...
CUT
Oh dear, you know I couldn't sleep last night and then there was the storm that made me late this morning, so I never really had a chance to write out what I was going to say, and I don't even really like coffee anyway. You want me to just read the back of the can? OK.
ACTION
Thank you for tuning in, The best part of waking up is......
CUT
What? I thought that was really good, I was starting to get into it. Should I have swished my hips more, or maybe I could sing the directions I really have quite a lovely voice. La la la la aaaaa! You want me to just do it from the heart? Ok then I will...ok.
ACTION
Today we are going to make the Perfect Cup of Coffee. You'll woo that man right out bed if you make the coffee strong enough. Then maybe he will actually fix the dishwasher, or change the oil in the car or walk the dog once you put the right amount of perk in his Joe. And if that doesn't work you can always "accidentally" spray the oven cleaner in the coffee beans while you're brewing. If you are going to do this second step it is best to have a big, strong, young man nearby to help you hide the body...err...coffee grinds.
END
WHERE DO YOU WANT YOUR COFFEE by Lamommasita
"I make coffee for me family and friends. I need to tell you dat I is of German decent so you now know dat it will be da best coffee you ever drink. No need to add all dat crap da English do dat ruin da rich roast. If you start with da best you will end with da best.
Now I begin....
You start with a stainless steel coffee pot made in northern Germany that holds exactly 1.2 liters of fresh, clean, pure water.
Don't put water in the pot yet, did I say anything about putting da water in pot? NO! Put it down now! Dat is not where you find it, put it here! aaah! First you must have a 816.47 grams of coffee beans. Since Germany doesn't have the climate to grow coffee we must import from other place and we will rework it to bring it up to our standards.
Use a coffee grinder only made in the Dutchland since other ones don't grind worth a shit. Well day may grind dat but then coffee will taste like it too. Grind all da beans at once. If da damn thing jams from too much beans, just pick it up and slam it down on cement floor and it will be ready to grind some more.
Put in the perfectly ground coffee beans into top of percolator ring and hold with left hand. Now add the pure water only from German mountain streams to the stainless steel coffee pot up to da line dat says 1.1 liters. It will be marked on da inside and on da outside and in ten other places on da stainless steel coffee pot."
"I make coffee for me family and friends. I need to tell you dat I is of German decent so you now know dat it will be da best coffee you ever drink. No need to add all dat crap da English do dat ruin da rich roast. If you start with da best you will end with da best.
Now I begin....
You start with a stainless steel coffee pot made in northern Germany that holds exactly 1.2 liters of fresh, clean, pure water.
Don't put water in the pot yet, did I say anything about putting da water in pot? NO! Put it down now! Dat is not where you find it, put it here! aaah! First you must have a 816.47 grams of coffee beans. Since Germany doesn't have the climate to grow coffee we must import from other place and we will rework it to bring it up to our standards.
Use a coffee grinder only made in the Dutchland since other ones don't grind worth a shit. Well day may grind dat but then coffee will taste like it too. Grind all da beans at once. If da damn thing jams from too much beans, just pick it up and slam it down on cement floor and it will be ready to grind some more.
Put in the perfectly ground coffee beans into top of percolator ring and hold with left hand. Now add the pure water only from German mountain streams to the stainless steel coffee pot up to da line dat says 1.1 liters. It will be marked on da inside and on da outside and in ten other places on da stainless steel coffee pot."
EXCUSE ME HILDA, THE CAMERA MAN WANTS TO GET A PICTURE OF YOU WORKING.
"Ahh, okay.
Now I start again. Now where was I? Oh I puts the clear water in the steeless steel pot and den you sprinkle over the perfectly ground coffee beans a .23 gram of white ground salt. Remember to purchase only the best. You can tell tis da best, it is da most expensive salt. Why da hell does I needs so many freaking people in my kitchen whens I try to makes coffee ? Gets da hell out of here I will do it meself. I can shot photos, I have better camera & lighting. Better yet just go home yous don't deserve any of dis you bunch of free loading tea drinking pansies pigs!"
Write a love story between an ostrage and his cheese whiz
THE DAY THE CHEESY LOVE AGED by Lamommasita
"Good Morning everyone. Isn't it a beautiful day to get your head out of the sand & smell something other than elephant dung! Yes siree bob, this day is going to be a good hunting day." Oliver was always the happy one in the group. He rightfully should be since he was consistently a half hour late to work each day. He also spent most of his day eating while on the job.
Oliver was helping clean up the savanna along the Tadpole ridge in Eastern Africa. Well...Oliver over saw the project. See he was not only the Alpha male to the herd but also a King in his own mind. He used his position for all it was worth. 
Oliver would stroll in late...over see the other thirty seven ostriches, aka os-trages in New Zealand, (see the above title for the blog) then head to a sandy bank. In an hour or so he would get up to eat grasses and maybe a lizard, check on his herd and end up on the sandy bank again. This routine went on all day until Oliver would leave around 3:47 pm. He hated to rush so he left early to beat the running, squawking, wing-flapping, shift change on the grassland. The term 'bank &/or banker's hours' was coined after Oliver's work ethics and environment.
On a normal 'Oliver' day he would look around and admire his realm as he ate cheese whiz covered ants, cheese whiz covered lizards, cheese whiz covered grasses, really anything he could get down his throat had cheese whiz on it. Oliver was the only known ostrich that had a love affair with cheese whiz. The entire herd would tease him. He looked more like Big Bird with the color of his legs and neck after trying to spray cheese whiz with his two toes while holding the food in his beck. Oliver was pathetic.
Oliver was proud of the 1000 acres of pristine savanna in which he was responsible. His workers were happy and clucked all the while they worked. Why wouldn't they be content. Oliver allowed them to eat on the job and anything they couldn't swallow they could take home.
On this one special Wednesday morning, orders came down from the head office. There had been a secret contest held in which the winning savanna would be selected to sponsor a rock concert. Yep you guessed it...Oliver hadn't arrived at work yet when the exciting news arrived. The crew was all a flutter since they would be receiving 'free' tickets to the concert.
Oliver strolled in with his head in the clouds. No really, he literally did. There was a low lying fog along the coast line that had moved inland and with his long neck he was....see what I mean. When he sat down on the sandy bank he finally noticed seventy four feet wiggling under seventy four red legs. When Oliver realized what he was looking at he told his herd to control their toes and sit down.
Oh my was Oliver excited when the others finally included him in the earth shattering news. "He was going to be a star. His own concert right here in his own grasslands. All those famous people right here...right beside him or behind him. Yes they would have to be behind him. Oh, oh, he would have to have his feathers preened and the head hair gelled" he smiled to himself. There was so much to do and so little time. The concert was in two weeks.
Finally when Oliver came out of his fog he hadn't even asked who was preforming at the concert. When he found out he thought he was going to have a stoke. (It's very dangerous for an ostrich to have a stroke. Their little heads haven't room for a clot to form so it ends up pushing out their already really big eyes. They walk around looking like a fly on steroids that's rubber necking.) Anyway...it was the one and only "Rhea". She was the hottest thing next to desert sand. That girl had legs that went all the way up to her bottom feathers. WOW what a hot chick.
Every bird including Oliver worked very hard the next fourteen days. The sand, grasses,trees were gorgeous. There wasn't a shrub out of place and the grasses swayed in harmony to the breeze. The level of excitement was so loud it felt like a thunderstorm.
You're not going to believe this but Oliver was working his tail feathers off for this event. The only thought in his mind was "Rhea". He wanted everything just right for her. It is a known fact that an ostrich's brain is smaller than one of their eyes. So Oliver could only concentrate on one thought at a time. His true love of cheese whiz became a cheese was. Since he had forgotten about food covered in whiz his feathers were becoming clean and were a beautiful black. His long legs and neck became their brilliant pinkish red. He was a very handsome Struthio Camelus. Oliver honored his species name.
The concert was a hit and Rhea put on a great performance. She was taken back by her host. He was a tall, nine foot, handsome male with jet, black feathers and white plumage. He definitely was a man in charge and knew how to use his power. When Oliver offered her his realm at Tadpole Ridge for her to use as her vacation retreat, how could she refuse. She had heard about a male that loved cheese puffs and had let Whiskers eat them before he stuck her in a box and... anyway she knew it had to have been someone else. This man was a kind as he was handsome.
Oliver was now the true Alpha male of his kingdom and not the one that just got by on simple carbs. Behind every great male there's a female that makes them feel good about themselves. Since males can only think of one thing at a time it might as well be on important things and not the cheesy stuff!
Cheese, Not Again! By Curlyfro
Samson's mother Millie was what some would call "overprotective" He was almost seven years old before she would allow him to scurry out of her tail feathers to eat his own food. She would have kept him there longer, but he was taller than her and it was getting a little uncomfortable for her with the arthritis and all. Poor fella never realised he was a little "odd" even though the other ostriches his age (all married with several offspring) never missed the opportunity to ask him if "mommy was still chewing his food" and made various comments about being in captivity. He was so caught up in how amazing he was (his mother told him all the time) that he didn't notice how others lived. His day consisted of following his mother around since she was the only company that could listen to his constant ramblings, even the baby ostriches thought he was an odd duck, but Samson was very content.
As the years went by Samson was able to grow a little bit and stretch his wings. His mother's arthritis was so bad she actually let him wander around, though he was never out of her site. Soon Samson had an ant farm (It took a lot of nagging to convince his mother that they wouldn't hurt him and that he would feed on them everyday) and a passion for jeeps. He could tell you every make and model of every jeep that ever ventured south of the Sahara. And well, if he didn't know, he had no qualms with making something up. At this stage in his life he would lay covered in the tall grass and when an unsuspecting ostrich walked by Samson would jump up and start spewing off all his knowledge about jeeps and ant farms. Since he didn't have many stories he would have to repeat himself or make some up until the victim was able to get away.
Early one morning while Samson was nestling into the grass to start another adventurous day, he heard a vehicle in the distance. Excited he ran towards the sound at his clumsy gait since he was overweight from being coddled. The Jeep stopped and the three people on board started taking his picture. He had heard about becoming famous from UTube and hammed it up for the camera. Unfortunately since he spent so much time with his mother, they were all rather unmanly poses. Assuming they had found a pregnant female, the passengers started tossing crackers at him. Soon Samson was catching them in his mouth while twirling around on one leg and doing plies. Having run out of crackers Samson felt brave enough to walk right up to the jeep and poke around in the bags for a recipe so he could make them at home, for he was kind hearted. Knowing his mother would raise holy hell, he justified his actions with being like Rambo. He was living a dangerous life and it scared him a little, but he was sacrificing for the good of the herd. One of the women in the jeep grabbed a container of cheese whiz and stuck it in his mouth. Gosh A Mighty! That stuff was good! He sucked down the entire container and burped his gratitude before turning away and lumbering off. The rest of the day was spent enlightening everyone about the World War II SAS jeep that had Cheese Whiz. In a spray bottle! As a boy once cried wolf, no one believed poor Samson until the next day.
It started off like any other day in extreme heat, in a desert, with an ostrich talking non-stop. Samson woke up, exhausted his stories on his mother and then... went pale. He moaned... and groaned... and broke out in a sweat. His mother didn't know what was wrong with him and forced noodle soup down his gullet. Hours went by with Samson wriggling in pain until early evening. There was a "pop" and a tennis ball appeared on the grass behind Samson. Samson was the only one who had actually seen a picture of a tennis ball for he spent a lot of time on the Internet (they were on sale at Target this week), but he was sure that was what it was. Oddly enough he felt better and had the energy to embellish on his cheese whiz story before bedtime. The jeep returned to the reserve and fed Samson cheese whiz every couple of weeks and like having a secret lover Samson would race away to met it every time he heard it come. It's not like Samson actually had a secret, the savanna was spotted with tennis balls, but he thought he was being super sly. He created such amusement with the jeep crew that he became a sensation world wide. Samson Appeared on Africa's Got Talent and although he didn't win, signed a contract with Wilson. He and his mother would get to live in a 5x5 cage in California for the rest of their lives after travelling in cargo class for 19 hours!!! Samson was living the dream thinking of all the Grocery Advertisements delivered right to his door and the letters he could send back home of his adventures!
Story behind the dilapidated house with one unbroken glass window, must include 1 metaphor, an orangutan, and a postage stamp
These Walls...Talk? By Curlyfro
Oh, I used to be a beauty. I would like to think in my old age that there is someone like Jane Austen still alive who thinks "It sometimes happens that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before". I can only lie about my age being closer to twenty-nine, but I am still sturdy. Well, until it gets exceptionally windy or the snow piles up on me or...well, never mind. At my age there should be someone who cares enough about me to at least make sure I am warm. Someone to make sure I don't have bats in the belfry, skeletons in the closet, mice in the attic. It's not like I am difficult to live with, I just need some mending. And who at my age is in perfect condition? Which reminds me, the last man I had left me and moved in with a brand new woman. The family before that left me for an five year old condo in Miami. Oh, the Newburgs, they were the only ones who understood. They cared for me and stayed until their deaths. But oh, what I have seen since. The land I was on is now being broken into housing developments and the view I once had is blocked by a big box mart.
Years ago I used to be a hangout for the neighborhood punks, but even they have since moved on. They started with stones and moved on to BB guns, which is how I lost all but one of my windows. The one they didn't get is protected by the large maple in the back. They spray painted a picture of an orangutan in the kitchen, it looks like a large hairy baby and a dilapidated house, which I assume is a portrait of me, in the living room. The only part of me still in original condition is about the size of an international postage stamp.
Enough of my ramblings, it's just been so long since I have had company and you look like such a lovely young lady. Now what is that not you have posted on the door? C-O-N-D-E-M-N-E-D? I am not sure what that means.. Wait, where are you going? I didn't mean to offend you, please come back! Oh, the heartache of being left again...one more time...alone...unloved.
She sighed her last breathe...and all was quiet.
Antebellum By Curlyfro
Oh, the fighting must be getting close now, I can hear the cannons over the hill, almost at our doorstep. I don't know what to do , I promised I'd wait, I promised until death do us part. I...never thought it would come to that, well, not so soon. I thought we would start a family together, watch our grandchildren grow and go comfortably in our sleep... I should take the curtains down. They will only get dirty once those northerners take over. Or should I keep them up for when he comes back? I always thought the orangutan print was gaudy, I mean, who has actually seen an orangutan, but now I find it comforting since he loved them so. Why did this war have to start so soon after getting married? Why did it have to involve us? Why did he think he had to be a hero. his place is here...with his family...on his family's farm. I should hide the remaining hog...or, no...I should butcher it and cure it in the shed for Jon...for when he comes home. We will have our own little celebration, we will be carefree like we used to be, we... Here comes someone up the lane. Oh it is John's sister from town! "Mary Lynn! Oh is there news? Has he come back? Is it over? You have a letter! oh look at that from Jon-the postage is stamped right in town! that means he's home, we won didn't we! Why do you look so sad? Shall I read it a loud? You already have? Dear family of...regret to inform you...honor and duty to his country...?" What is the meaning of this? No. No no no, it's not true, they made a mistake. It's a mistake! No, get off of me, I won't go with you. No! Leave me alone, I told him I would wait. No, it's a mistake I must be here when he comes home. Oh, my shoe. Give it to me it is mine, he gave it to me, It's mine. But what do I do with it? What good is it now? I'll never wear them with him. I'll never live here another day with him. I'll never live here another day...Quick Mary Lynn, the Yankees, they will be coming. I don't want them in here! Yes, let's throw these rocks and knock out the windows, let's set it on fire. No, I have not lost my mind...this is ours, they've taken enough from me! Now Who is coming up the lane? Why those are our neighbors, the Tuckers! Hello Mrs. Tucker, yes we know we were just about to leave. They are just over the hill you say and coming this way? No! Mary Lynn, I haven't started the fire yet, there is still one window, I... Yes, another day. We must go. We must go...Oh Jon....
Diagnosis By Curlyfro
Let's see, who do I have for the 8:00 appointment today? Oh bugger...Mrs Stafford, just lovely. Last week she wanted me to write a prescription for an orangutan as an emotional support animal so she wouldn't have to go on vacation alone. What a nut. If anyone should be committed it is her. And if anyone needs a vacation it would be me!
"Dr. Arnett, Mrs. Stafford is here, shall I show her in...oh" Dianna, the receptionist was cut off as Mrs. Stafford forced her way in. Her large purple hat hitting Dianna in the head, the large purple bag hitting her in the knee.
"Dr. Arnett, I have been waiting in the office for two minutes! What is the meaning of this? Did you not see my car come in? Did you oversleep and just get into work? Were you AVOIDING ME Dr. Arnett? Dianna slips out giving Dr Arnett the "gee sorry" look.
"Mrs. Stafford, always a pleasure to see you, actually I noticed the room was a little chilly this morning and was hoping to get it warmed up before you came in."
"You're quit right! It I were crazy I'd think I stepped into the North Pole! Do I not pay you enough to keep the heat on? Now, Let me show you the picture my granddaughter drew me! Huph! There is certainly something wrong with her! (digging into purse) This one is Donny and Michelle's daughter, I never did like that woman. Got pregnant and suckered him into marrying her, I am sure I told you about her...Ahh, there it is! Just look at that!"
"Why Mrs. Stafford, it looks like a house. How old did you say your granddaughter is?"
"Abbey is six and just like her mother- that is not any just old house Dr. Arnett. She said this was a picture of MY house!"
"Well, it seems like she likes your house, look at the heart she drew above the window"
"It is a DILAPIDATED house DocTOR Arnett. She must think I am a senior delinquent living in a place that doesn't even stand up straight, look at the roof line. The left side is concave and the right convex!
"Mrs. Stafford, I now see your concern. Children do not have the hand eye coordination until about eight years old, when they start drawing "realism". Your granddaughter is in the schematic stage. She draws things as she sees them through her six year old eyes. Children start out at the scribbling stage, progress to the preschematic stage and at around age twelve..."
"So you are saying this is normal? It is normal to have my house look like it is falling down?"
"I would focus on why she drew the picture for you rather than the artistic preciseness. I am getting that Abby loves you very much and wanted you to know that she feels safe and loved in your home."
"Very well then. Do you want to see the picture she drew of me?" More digging. "Here is it! And tell me what you think about that! My legs look like tree trunks! You know how much I love to wear my dresses, well today I had to wear trousers! Just look at my legs, how could I go out like that! She thinks I have elephantiasis!"
"Again Mrs. Stafford, I think she is trying to tell you she sees you as sturdy, someone she can come to...maybe even thinks you are strong for all the things life has handed you and you are able to keep standing..."
"You're right, I have been through an awful lot! Between the alcoholism and the shopping, Johnny into drugs and Lloyd's death. Yes, my life has been difficult! But...do you think Abby actually sees this? She knows what a strong woman I am? Well, I was just about to write her out of my will, maybe I will pick her up after school and take her to get ice cream. She loves that mint chocolate chip at the corner store...I am sorry Dr. Arnett, I will have to leave this session early, I must get dolled up for my date. I think I will wear my red dress with the red and black hat. Thank you Dr. and good day! suddenly it doesn't seem so cold in here."
Yes, and I am glad everything is working out ok, have a pleasant day Mrs. Stafford"
"Goodbye Dianna, that color makes you look pale dear, If I had more time I would give you advice, but I must be going!"
Weew! ten minutes until my appointment with....let's see...Mr. Harris. What a day. Mr. Harris worked for the Post Office before going postal. When I gave him the ink blots and of course he saw postage stamps in all of them.
"Dianna, forewarn me when Mr. Harris is here, I need a drink!"
"He just walked in sir!"
Wonderful!
Oh, I used to be a beauty. I would like to think in my old age that there is someone like Jane Austen still alive who thinks "It sometimes happens that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before". I can only lie about my age being closer to twenty-nine, but I am still sturdy. Well, until it gets exceptionally windy or the snow piles up on me or...well, never mind. At my age there should be someone who cares enough about me to at least make sure I am warm. Someone to make sure I don't have bats in the belfry, skeletons in the closet, mice in the attic. It's not like I am difficult to live with, I just need some mending. And who at my age is in perfect condition? Which reminds me, the last man I had left me and moved in with a brand new woman. The family before that left me for an five year old condo in Miami. Oh, the Newburgs, they were the only ones who understood. They cared for me and stayed until their deaths. But oh, what I have seen since. The land I was on is now being broken into housing developments and the view I once had is blocked by a big box mart.
Years ago I used to be a hangout for the neighborhood punks, but even they have since moved on. They started with stones and moved on to BB guns, which is how I lost all but one of my windows. The one they didn't get is protected by the large maple in the back. They spray painted a picture of an orangutan in the kitchen, it looks like a large hairy baby and a dilapidated house, which I assume is a portrait of me, in the living room. The only part of me still in original condition is about the size of an international postage stamp.
Enough of my ramblings, it's just been so long since I have had company and you look like such a lovely young lady. Now what is that not you have posted on the door? C-O-N-D-E-M-N-E-D? I am not sure what that means.. Wait, where are you going? I didn't mean to offend you, please come back! Oh, the heartache of being left again...one more time...alone...unloved.
She sighed her last breathe...and all was quiet.
Antebellum By Curlyfro
Oh, the fighting must be getting close now, I can hear the cannons over the hill, almost at our doorstep. I don't know what to do , I promised I'd wait, I promised until death do us part. I...never thought it would come to that, well, not so soon. I thought we would start a family together, watch our grandchildren grow and go comfortably in our sleep... I should take the curtains down. They will only get dirty once those northerners take over. Or should I keep them up for when he comes back? I always thought the orangutan print was gaudy, I mean, who has actually seen an orangutan, but now I find it comforting since he loved them so. Why did this war have to start so soon after getting married? Why did it have to involve us? Why did he think he had to be a hero. his place is here...with his family...on his family's farm. I should hide the remaining hog...or, no...I should butcher it and cure it in the shed for Jon...for when he comes home. We will have our own little celebration, we will be carefree like we used to be, we... Here comes someone up the lane. Oh it is John's sister from town! "Mary Lynn! Oh is there news? Has he come back? Is it over? You have a letter! oh look at that from Jon-the postage is stamped right in town! that means he's home, we won didn't we! Why do you look so sad? Shall I read it a loud? You already have? Dear family of...regret to inform you...honor and duty to his country...?" What is the meaning of this? No. No no no, it's not true, they made a mistake. It's a mistake! No, get off of me, I won't go with you. No! Leave me alone, I told him I would wait. No, it's a mistake I must be here when he comes home. Oh, my shoe. Give it to me it is mine, he gave it to me, It's mine. But what do I do with it? What good is it now? I'll never wear them with him. I'll never live here another day with him. I'll never live here another day...Quick Mary Lynn, the Yankees, they will be coming. I don't want them in here! Yes, let's throw these rocks and knock out the windows, let's set it on fire. No, I have not lost my mind...this is ours, they've taken enough from me! Now Who is coming up the lane? Why those are our neighbors, the Tuckers! Hello Mrs. Tucker, yes we know we were just about to leave. They are just over the hill you say and coming this way? No! Mary Lynn, I haven't started the fire yet, there is still one window, I... Yes, another day. We must go. We must go...Oh Jon....
Diagnosis By Curlyfro
Let's see, who do I have for the 8:00 appointment today? Oh bugger...Mrs Stafford, just lovely. Last week she wanted me to write a prescription for an orangutan as an emotional support animal so she wouldn't have to go on vacation alone. What a nut. If anyone should be committed it is her. And if anyone needs a vacation it would be me!
"Dr. Arnett, Mrs. Stafford is here, shall I show her in...oh" Dianna, the receptionist was cut off as Mrs. Stafford forced her way in. Her large purple hat hitting Dianna in the head, the large purple bag hitting her in the knee.
"Dr. Arnett, I have been waiting in the office for two minutes! What is the meaning of this? Did you not see my car come in? Did you oversleep and just get into work? Were you AVOIDING ME Dr. Arnett? Dianna slips out giving Dr Arnett the "gee sorry" look.
"Mrs. Stafford, always a pleasure to see you, actually I noticed the room was a little chilly this morning and was hoping to get it warmed up before you came in."
"You're quit right! It I were crazy I'd think I stepped into the North Pole! Do I not pay you enough to keep the heat on? Now, Let me show you the picture my granddaughter drew me! Huph! There is certainly something wrong with her! (digging into purse) This one is Donny and Michelle's daughter, I never did like that woman. Got pregnant and suckered him into marrying her, I am sure I told you about her...Ahh, there it is! Just look at that!"
"Why Mrs. Stafford, it looks like a house. How old did you say your granddaughter is?"
"Abbey is six and just like her mother- that is not any just old house Dr. Arnett. She said this was a picture of MY house!"
"Well, it seems like she likes your house, look at the heart she drew above the window"
"It is a DILAPIDATED house DocTOR Arnett. She must think I am a senior delinquent living in a place that doesn't even stand up straight, look at the roof line. The left side is concave and the right convex!
"Mrs. Stafford, I now see your concern. Children do not have the hand eye coordination until about eight years old, when they start drawing "realism". Your granddaughter is in the schematic stage. She draws things as she sees them through her six year old eyes. Children start out at the scribbling stage, progress to the preschematic stage and at around age twelve..."
"So you are saying this is normal? It is normal to have my house look like it is falling down?"
"I would focus on why she drew the picture for you rather than the artistic preciseness. I am getting that Abby loves you very much and wanted you to know that she feels safe and loved in your home."
"Very well then. Do you want to see the picture she drew of me?" More digging. "Here is it! And tell me what you think about that! My legs look like tree trunks! You know how much I love to wear my dresses, well today I had to wear trousers! Just look at my legs, how could I go out like that! She thinks I have elephantiasis!"
"Again Mrs. Stafford, I think she is trying to tell you she sees you as sturdy, someone she can come to...maybe even thinks you are strong for all the things life has handed you and you are able to keep standing..."
"You're right, I have been through an awful lot! Between the alcoholism and the shopping, Johnny into drugs and Lloyd's death. Yes, my life has been difficult! But...do you think Abby actually sees this? She knows what a strong woman I am? Well, I was just about to write her out of my will, maybe I will pick her up after school and take her to get ice cream. She loves that mint chocolate chip at the corner store...I am sorry Dr. Arnett, I will have to leave this session early, I must get dolled up for my date. I think I will wear my red dress with the red and black hat. Thank you Dr. and good day! suddenly it doesn't seem so cold in here."
Yes, and I am glad everything is working out ok, have a pleasant day Mrs. Stafford"
"Goodbye Dianna, that color makes you look pale dear, If I had more time I would give you advice, but I must be going!"
Weew! ten minutes until my appointment with....let's see...Mr. Harris. What a day. Mr. Harris worked for the Post Office before going postal. When I gave him the ink blots and of course he saw postage stamps in all of them.
"Dianna, forewarn me when Mr. Harris is here, I need a drink!"
"He just walked in sir!"
Wonderful!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Mystery in a foreign country, 1 metaphor, must include an Oreo cookie and vinyl siding.
Oh Rio? By Curlyfro
"What do you imagine it could be detective?" Grusha asked while holding her nose.
"I am not sure Lyu Bof, but I won't have you exposed to it, They have been turning up all over town. Actually it started when that American tourist group showed up to steal all of our babies from the orphanages." he replied while trying to seem chivalrous to Hilda. She was one tough cookie he thought. He had been trying to make his intentions clear since he was 22 and arrived on her family's farm to investigate a dead cow. The only reason a detective was called was because they expected foul play aka poisoning by the neighbors. Why they would call him, he wasn't a veterinarian nor a doctor, was beyond him, but he was happy to get paid for something where there were no possible witnesses. He had made up heart failure and today was still pleased with his quick thinking. The cow was probably eating too much cholesterol, you know how cows can get addicted to butter. Now he was 31 and Hilda was attending University in St Petersburg where he was working. He had casually mentioned to her parents that it was unsafe to be walking the block from her last class to her dorm room by herself. You never know what type of perverts could be tracking her every move, they could even figure out her schedule, where she does laundry and bump into her as he has been doing..as uhm..someone, some predator could do. He was mearly doing those things for her safety. Her parents had passed their concerns on to Hilda, who was now being walked home. Every night. Whether she wanted it or not. To Boris these walks went too quickly so he was secretly thrilled at the brown lump...lumpy thing...disc like brown thing with a stripe, but not a skunk, in the road. It was a welcomed distraction. Tonight he was finally going to confess his love for her, but kept getting tongue tied. He was pleased with her reaction when he had called her Lyu Bof, "Love" he thought he saw her shiver.
"It looks like some sort of food" Grusha was bending down for a better look when Boris grabbed her around the waist and hauled her backwards.
"I implore you to stay back from that dreadful creature, or whatever it is, you are too presssssursen" Damn! Boris thought, I chickened out again. She is just so precious to me!
"Don't you think you are overreacting?" (Again, you creep) she wanted to add. She still remembered the day she met him when she was 12. A family friend had just hired him on and wanted him put to the test, so they had called him when their cow died. The cow had died while giving birth, but he was convinced it had died of cardiac arrest. Drinking too much milk or butter or some absurd thing like that. Her family had managed to make it to the house before they broke into fits of laughter. Her father had gladly paid the ridiculous fee simply for the entertainment Boris had supplied for years to come. Unfortunately business was slow for the detective and he moved to St. Petersburg. Forgetting about him by the time she started college she hadn't recognised him when they bumped into each other in the laundry mat. The first time or the second time a month later. Shortly after that second "accidental" meeting she was informed by her parents that he would be walking her home. Effective immediately. Her dad was chuckling when he got off the phone so she knew he was hoping for more intriguing stories. She had tried to make the walks as short as possible, but the weird little wafer had caught her eye tonight. At this point she decided it wasn't worth getting man handled again and started walking home.
"Don't you think we should talk about it?" Implored Boris with as much passion as he could muster.
"It must be some wafer those Americans brought from home and dropped" She replied without turning around.
"Not the wafer, my sweet, marriage" he choked out as though it was his last breath.
"Marriage? Oh... you are right it must be one of those OH RIO things, yes chocolate wafers married together with a cream center! That may be the one intelligent thing I have ever heard you say! Well, we are here and the mystery is solved, Good Night Boris!" and with that the door was closed firmly.
She must have a heart like vinyl siding! He thought as he started home. He resolved to do some research on vinyl siding, it couldn't be completely impenetrable.
"What do you imagine it could be detective?" Grusha asked while holding her nose.
"I am not sure Lyu Bof, but I won't have you exposed to it, They have been turning up all over town. Actually it started when that American tourist group showed up to steal all of our babies from the orphanages." he replied while trying to seem chivalrous to Hilda. She was one tough cookie he thought. He had been trying to make his intentions clear since he was 22 and arrived on her family's farm to investigate a dead cow. The only reason a detective was called was because they expected foul play aka poisoning by the neighbors. Why they would call him, he wasn't a veterinarian nor a doctor, was beyond him, but he was happy to get paid for something where there were no possible witnesses. He had made up heart failure and today was still pleased with his quick thinking. The cow was probably eating too much cholesterol, you know how cows can get addicted to butter. Now he was 31 and Hilda was attending University in St Petersburg where he was working. He had casually mentioned to her parents that it was unsafe to be walking the block from her last class to her dorm room by herself. You never know what type of perverts could be tracking her every move, they could even figure out her schedule, where she does laundry and bump into her as he has been doing..as uhm..someone, some predator could do. He was mearly doing those things for her safety. Her parents had passed their concerns on to Hilda, who was now being walked home. Every night. Whether she wanted it or not. To Boris these walks went too quickly so he was secretly thrilled at the brown lump...lumpy thing...disc like brown thing with a stripe, but not a skunk, in the road. It was a welcomed distraction. Tonight he was finally going to confess his love for her, but kept getting tongue tied. He was pleased with her reaction when he had called her Lyu Bof, "Love" he thought he saw her shiver.
"It looks like some sort of food" Grusha was bending down for a better look when Boris grabbed her around the waist and hauled her backwards.
"I implore you to stay back from that dreadful creature, or whatever it is, you are too presssssursen" Damn! Boris thought, I chickened out again. She is just so precious to me!
"Don't you think you are overreacting?" (Again, you creep) she wanted to add. She still remembered the day she met him when she was 12. A family friend had just hired him on and wanted him put to the test, so they had called him when their cow died. The cow had died while giving birth, but he was convinced it had died of cardiac arrest. Drinking too much milk or butter or some absurd thing like that. Her family had managed to make it to the house before they broke into fits of laughter. Her father had gladly paid the ridiculous fee simply for the entertainment Boris had supplied for years to come. Unfortunately business was slow for the detective and he moved to St. Petersburg. Forgetting about him by the time she started college she hadn't recognised him when they bumped into each other in the laundry mat. The first time or the second time a month later. Shortly after that second "accidental" meeting she was informed by her parents that he would be walking her home. Effective immediately. Her dad was chuckling when he got off the phone so she knew he was hoping for more intriguing stories. She had tried to make the walks as short as possible, but the weird little wafer had caught her eye tonight. At this point she decided it wasn't worth getting man handled again and started walking home.
"Don't you think we should talk about it?" Implored Boris with as much passion as he could muster.
"It must be some wafer those Americans brought from home and dropped" She replied without turning around.
"Not the wafer, my sweet, marriage" he choked out as though it was his last breath.
"Marriage? Oh... you are right it must be one of those OH RIO things, yes chocolate wafers married together with a cream center! That may be the one intelligent thing I have ever heard you say! Well, we are here and the mystery is solved, Good Night Boris!" and with that the door was closed firmly.
She must have a heart like vinyl siding! He thought as he started home. He resolved to do some research on vinyl siding, it couldn't be completely impenetrable.
1st person: Escape from the Underworld, (work in your knowledge on Greek Mythology)
Thanks For The Lift! By: Curlyfro
Damn it's hot here! I am getting blisters just from standing! I really wished I was in Hades at least there is a cool breeze there! I don't even know how I got to spend eternity in Tartarus, I guess I should be flattered since everyone else here is...well...fit and a bit...uhm...scarey. I did happen to make a friend though. Yeah, I guess I am like "mom would be proud of me". Which she wouldn't, I mean look, I am in hell. She would probably think it was because I voted for Nader instead of Obama. Of course she also doesn't know I broke Hank McDogal's transformer in third grade and then blamed it on Alice Williams. For some reason I can't picture my new friend cyclopes being here for the same reason. I guess that is partially because I can't see him having friends and partially because I can't see him enjoying a toy that can transform from something cool and normal into a fighting machine, when he can't transform from an ugly fighting machine into ...well...anything. So I have been here for...oh...ever! Seriously that's what it seems like. There is nothing to do but sweat, and I don't mean from toiling. We do nothing, stand around, sit around, lay around. Every move we make is watched by Campe ( I think she has the hots for Cyclopes, ha ha ha...get it "the hots", like she is about to combust!) Ha- ah, at least life down here has given me a sense of humor, I never used to be funny before, though Cyclopes tells me I am still not funny, just delirious. I think he is just jealous because while he has Campe checking him out I have three Hecatonchires flirting with me. I try to act all suave about it, but really I am disturbed. These guys have 100 hands and 50 heads each, not real attractive. Although some of faces are more attractive then others, I can't get past the 100 hands. What if 49 of the heads like you and one doesn't? I could be choked...or what if only one likes you and 49 don't! It's just suicide! I do feel sorry for them though, I guess their parents sold them off to the builder of Tartarus (too many mouths to feed, ha ha ha). They were given instructions to make it impossible to escape... and well...they were really good architects! I do find it amusing though that Campe doesn't realise she is also imprisoned here. I am sure she is not getting a paycheck and even if she is, it's not like she can go to Starbucks, so what's the point! Although I do wonder how she got the fire resistant yarn. She made Cyclopes a fanny pack, which looks funny since he wears it naked. yeah, seriously, no one here but me wears clothes...and they wonder why they are freaks!
Ooh, that is the buzzer announcing a visitor. I hope it is not the kid again trying to get sponsors to go to Disney World. I mean what are parents thinking these days? Do they even know where their kids are? Oh- well, whoever it is is HUGE! Ha, that's funny, he has a name sticker that says "hello my name is"....must be a long one, it is really small....
"Will you release the one who goes by Cyclopes peacefully?" The big guy asks.
"Cyclopes? NO! Anyone but Cyclopes, take that scrawny one there instead!" With that he tazzered her! Cripes! I thought, he is going to take me and then eat me for a snack! I dove into Cyclopes fanny pack, which he wasn't wearing at the moment, and shivered (from a chill, but not a cold chill).
"You are free. Will you come with me and help fight the Titan giants?" up close I could read his name tag Zeusard William Kowosky III, which meant nothing to me.
"Zeus, good friend, that's elementary, you know I love a good fight!"
Zeus? Wow! should I crawl out and get an autograph...hm...my paper had all burst into flames upon arrival. I guess he could sign my chest, but then wouldn't I be mistaken for Zeus? When I looked back up they were both retreating and the Hecatonchires were moving in on me. Luckily the movement caught Zeusard's attention.
"Is that your fanny pack?" he asked Cyclopes.
"gad dads! Yes, thank you Zeus you always were a swell guy when you wanted something! AHH It seems to have gotten heavier, do you mind if we stop at the gym before the big fight?"
And that was how I escaped the underworld and the Hecatonchires.
Damn it's hot here! I am getting blisters just from standing! I really wished I was in Hades at least there is a cool breeze there! I don't even know how I got to spend eternity in Tartarus, I guess I should be flattered since everyone else here is...well...fit and a bit...uhm...scarey. I did happen to make a friend though. Yeah, I guess I am like "mom would be proud of me". Which she wouldn't, I mean look, I am in hell. She would probably think it was because I voted for Nader instead of Obama. Of course she also doesn't know I broke Hank McDogal's transformer in third grade and then blamed it on Alice Williams. For some reason I can't picture my new friend cyclopes being here for the same reason. I guess that is partially because I can't see him having friends and partially because I can't see him enjoying a toy that can transform from something cool and normal into a fighting machine, when he can't transform from an ugly fighting machine into ...well...anything. So I have been here for...oh...ever! Seriously that's what it seems like. There is nothing to do but sweat, and I don't mean from toiling. We do nothing, stand around, sit around, lay around. Every move we make is watched by Campe ( I think she has the hots for Cyclopes, ha ha ha...get it "the hots", like she is about to combust!) Ha- ah, at least life down here has given me a sense of humor, I never used to be funny before, though Cyclopes tells me I am still not funny, just delirious. I think he is just jealous because while he has Campe checking him out I have three Hecatonchires flirting with me. I try to act all suave about it, but really I am disturbed. These guys have 100 hands and 50 heads each, not real attractive. Although some of faces are more attractive then others, I can't get past the 100 hands. What if 49 of the heads like you and one doesn't? I could be choked...or what if only one likes you and 49 don't! It's just suicide! I do feel sorry for them though, I guess their parents sold them off to the builder of Tartarus (too many mouths to feed, ha ha ha). They were given instructions to make it impossible to escape... and well...they were really good architects! I do find it amusing though that Campe doesn't realise she is also imprisoned here. I am sure she is not getting a paycheck and even if she is, it's not like she can go to Starbucks, so what's the point! Although I do wonder how she got the fire resistant yarn. She made Cyclopes a fanny pack, which looks funny since he wears it naked. yeah, seriously, no one here but me wears clothes...and they wonder why they are freaks!
Ooh, that is the buzzer announcing a visitor. I hope it is not the kid again trying to get sponsors to go to Disney World. I mean what are parents thinking these days? Do they even know where their kids are? Oh- well, whoever it is is HUGE! Ha, that's funny, he has a name sticker that says "hello my name is"....must be a long one, it is really small....
"Will you release the one who goes by Cyclopes peacefully?" The big guy asks.
"Cyclopes? NO! Anyone but Cyclopes, take that scrawny one there instead!" With that he tazzered her! Cripes! I thought, he is going to take me and then eat me for a snack! I dove into Cyclopes fanny pack, which he wasn't wearing at the moment, and shivered (from a chill, but not a cold chill).
"You are free. Will you come with me and help fight the Titan giants?" up close I could read his name tag Zeusard William Kowosky III, which meant nothing to me.
"Zeus, good friend, that's elementary, you know I love a good fight!"
Zeus? Wow! should I crawl out and get an autograph...hm...my paper had all burst into flames upon arrival. I guess he could sign my chest, but then wouldn't I be mistaken for Zeus? When I looked back up they were both retreating and the Hecatonchires were moving in on me. Luckily the movement caught Zeusard's attention.
"Is that your fanny pack?" he asked Cyclopes.
"gad dads! Yes, thank you Zeus you always were a swell guy when you wanted something! AHH It seems to have gotten heavier, do you mind if we stop at the gym before the big fight?"
And that was how I escaped the underworld and the Hecatonchires.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Story with Man Vrs Society; Must include 1 example of symbolism, a clown, and an old station wagon.
REFUSE TO PARTICIPATE IN INFLATION by Lamommasita
Just refer to me as Flip. This wasn't always my name. I was like everyone else in this so called free country. I had a name, an address, bank account, social security number, credit cards....you get the drift. I was a number. But not anymore, I sort of disappeared into thin air in the eyes of the government.
The transformation's conception happened one night as I was sitting in the living room that was once my parents' home. My mother had died about three and a half years earlier at the age of 87 and left behind Dad and me. Mom had had a fall and never really recovered. She had always been a go-getter and the stronger one of the two. I'm not sure what happened but her spirit seemed to leave her that day when she got the news. The doctor's office had called and said the x-rays showed the bones were healing at a slower rate than they had expected. They told her she would remain bedridden for another six months at the minimum. She had a melt down but she had had a fewin the past th ree months and that was expected. But for some reason this one was different.
The day after receiving the news she started preparing for her funeral and how Dad needed to be cared for for his remaining time on earth. It was down right depressing and it started taking a toll on Dad. He was not frail by any means but his happy go lucky outlook became bitter. He cursed the medical field, the government, the banks anything and anyone that had a name attached to it.
Mom called me one morning before I headed out to work and asked if I could come home over the weekend. She said Daddy, as she called him, needed to eat and that he was becoming very thin. Just like Mom to worry about everyone else. I told her sure but I couldn't make it until late Sat. afternoon.
See I didn't have much of a social life; I just didn't want to go. I was married to the job. It produced a wage, it was taxed which in turn was given to those worthless asses who lived on welfare & couldn't past a damn drug test. Hell their lives were less complicated than my sorry butt's. I was 41 and working the dream up the corporate ladder. I swear I was doing it for the parents so they had something to brag about to friends and family. Now when I look back I realize it wasn't bringing me any happiness. I had a townhouse, a sports car, a truck, not to mention the loans and credit cards to prove it. No I wasn't married nor any prospects...I wanted that mighty dollar and everything it could supply. I wanted it now! So I consumed and charged and paid dearly every month on the minimum and started the cycle all over. There was no time for endless relationships. Hell it was just a drain on the old bank account. Wine and dine to impress...why?
Anyway I made the trip home and found Mom was right; Dad looked terrible. I don't think he had bathed since the last time I was home which was about three weeks earlier. Mom also was much worse than I had expected. She asked me to come home for a month to care for Daddy. I realize now it was more than that, but at the time I thought she was being unreasonable.
That was the last time I saw my Mom alive. No I didn't do as she had asked. I was such a selfish jerk; my parents had always catered to me. I had plenty of time off coming at my job but I didn't even ask. I lied to my Mom when she called a couple of days later and she sounded so disappointed. I justified it with some excuse...some lame,selfish excuse.
I took a leave of absence from my job two days after Mom's funeral. Dad was a mess. His entire life was lived to be with that one and only woman whom he loved. He keep telling me to order another casket. He said that I might be able to get a better deal..a two for one sale if I hurried.
Well Dad and I were together for three years and I'm so glad I made the choice to spend his last days with him. Yep I quit my job when the vacation and sick days ran out. I kept paying the the mortgages, the loan payments, and the garage rents tho. I knew I would be thrilled the day I could go back to 'my' life.
Just refer to me as Flip. This wasn't always my name. I was like everyone else in this so called free country. I had a name, an address, bank account, social security number, credit cards....you get the drift. I was a number. But not anymore, I sort of disappeared into thin air in the eyes of the government.
The transformation's conception happened one night as I was sitting in the living room that was once my parents' home. My mother had died about three and a half years earlier at the age of 87 and left behind Dad and me. Mom had had a fall and never really recovered. She had always been a go-getter and the stronger one of the two. I'm not sure what happened but her spirit seemed to leave her that day when she got the news. The doctor's office had called and said the x-rays showed the bones were healing at a slower rate than they had expected. They told her she would remain bedridden for another six months at the minimum. She had a melt down but she had had a fewin the past th ree months and that was expected. But for some reason this one was different.
The day after receiving the news she started preparing for her funeral and how Dad needed to be cared for for his remaining time on earth. It was down right depressing and it started taking a toll on Dad. He was not frail by any means but his happy go lucky outlook became bitter. He cursed the medical field, the government, the banks anything and anyone that had a name attached to it.
Mom called me one morning before I headed out to work and asked if I could come home over the weekend. She said Daddy, as she called him, needed to eat and that he was becoming very thin. Just like Mom to worry about everyone else. I told her sure but I couldn't make it until late Sat. afternoon.
See I didn't have much of a social life; I just didn't want to go. I was married to the job. It produced a wage, it was taxed which in turn was given to those worthless asses who lived on welfare & couldn't past a damn drug test. Hell their lives were less complicated than my sorry butt's. I was 41 and working the dream up the corporate ladder. I swear I was doing it for the parents so they had something to brag about to friends and family. Now when I look back I realize it wasn't bringing me any happiness. I had a townhouse, a sports car, a truck, not to mention the loans and credit cards to prove it. No I wasn't married nor any prospects...I wanted that mighty dollar and everything it could supply. I wanted it now! So I consumed and charged and paid dearly every month on the minimum and started the cycle all over. There was no time for endless relationships. Hell it was just a drain on the old bank account. Wine and dine to impress...why?
Anyway I made the trip home and found Mom was right; Dad looked terrible. I don't think he had bathed since the last time I was home which was about three weeks earlier. Mom also was much worse than I had expected. She asked me to come home for a month to care for Daddy. I realize now it was more than that, but at the time I thought she was being unreasonable.
That was the last time I saw my Mom alive. No I didn't do as she had asked. I was such a selfish jerk; my parents had always catered to me. I had plenty of time off coming at my job but I didn't even ask. I lied to my Mom when she called a couple of days later and she sounded so disappointed. I justified it with some excuse...some lame,selfish excuse.
I took a leave of absence from my job two days after Mom's funeral. Dad was a mess. His entire life was lived to be with that one and only woman whom he loved. He keep telling me to order another casket. He said that I might be able to get a better deal..a two for one sale if I hurried.
Well Dad and I were together for three years and I'm so glad I made the choice to spend his last days with him. Yep I quit my job when the vacation and sick days ran out. I kept paying the the mortgages, the loan payments, and the garage rents tho. I knew I would be thrilled the day I could go back to 'my' life.
My dad what a great guy! As a child we don't see our parents as anything but parents. We don't realize they have had their struggles, their downs along with the ups, the worries, the fears and overwhelming responsibilities. We just categorize them as "oh it's just mom and dad" and go back to the "me" world. Now I understand why Mom loved and cared for Dad. The laughter and spirit he showed was amazing. Mom and Dad had such a wonderful relationship that I had never cared to see, nor be a part of it with them. I was an only child and it was all about moi.
I sure veered off course with this story but you needed to see where I was coming from to understand where I ended up.It's now several days after Dad's burial. I was overwhelmed with the bills and taxes my parents had been dealing with all of their lives. And how little they had to live on the past ten years. They were able to keep the farm but it had to been a struggle. And believe it or not the taxes don't stop once someone dies...the government keeps its greedy hand out with the palm side up. It wants your very last drop of blood.
As I sat there in the living room looking over Dad's financial papers, bills and family records, I realized Dad and his father worked very hard and had pride in their abilities. They provided for their families and helped out neighbors when needed. They never asked for anything they hadn't worked for or earned honestly. It was never about them but about the 'whole'. They were proud Americans and had served for their country.
I am a proud American and feel lucky to live in this country, don't get me wrong. But I was raised that way and I hadn't earned that pride. I took all my privileges for granted. I had put my time in at my job but I expected that monetary and position reward at review time. I didn't care how I got it, it was every man for himself. Nothing on my part to be proud of that's for sure. I didn't appreciate my time off because it wasn't productive and it had no monetary rewards. The problem was I just didn't know how to appreciate that precious time, I needed to be productive and always busy I thought. Lets face it I had no life. I could have given some time to my parents but I didn't want to waste the time traveling there and back. Once there I had to listen to them talk about people I didn't know nor cared about. God how boring. But to them they were so glad to see me and wanted to share their lives with me. Their lives had changed a lot since I had gone to the city to start mine. They just wanted to share and I could have cared less. I finally cared those last three, short years but it was too little too late by then. I didn't have Mom.
I sure veered off course with this story but you needed to see where I was coming from to understand where I ended up.It's now several days after Dad's burial. I was overwhelmed with the bills and taxes my parents had been dealing with all of their lives. And how little they had to live on the past ten years. They were able to keep the farm but it had to been a struggle. And believe it or not the taxes don't stop once someone dies...the government keeps its greedy hand out with the palm side up. It wants your very last drop of blood.
As I sat there in the living room looking over Dad's financial papers, bills and family records, I realized Dad and his father worked very hard and had pride in their abilities. They provided for their families and helped out neighbors when needed. They never asked for anything they hadn't worked for or earned honestly. It was never about them but about the 'whole'. They were proud Americans and had served for their country.
I am a proud American and feel lucky to live in this country, don't get me wrong. But I was raised that way and I hadn't earned that pride. I took all my privileges for granted. I had put my time in at my job but I expected that monetary and position reward at review time. I didn't care how I got it, it was every man for himself. Nothing on my part to be proud of that's for sure. I didn't appreciate my time off because it wasn't productive and it had no monetary rewards. The problem was I just didn't know how to appreciate that precious time, I needed to be productive and always busy I thought. Lets face it I had no life. I could have given some time to my parents but I didn't want to waste the time traveling there and back. Once there I had to listen to them talk about people I didn't know nor cared about. God how boring. But to them they were so glad to see me and wanted to share their lives with me. Their lives had changed a lot since I had gone to the city to start mine. They just wanted to share and I could have cared less. I finally cared those last three, short years but it was too little too late by then. I didn't have Mom.
I took the next week or so to make sure my plan was workable and fool proof. I looked through all the barns and checked over the acres that were being rented and farmed by a neighbor. I ran the necessary errands in town to get all the ducks in a row and closed out Dad's accounts and have the mail canceled by the end of the month.
As I was pilfering through the out buildings I came across Mom's 1983 Chevy Caprice Classic station wagon. I had to smile. That car was so Mom. Even the silver roof matched her hair. It was dependable, nonsense, and hard working; it was a tank. Mom wasn't a tank but she was a solid wholesome woman. I could actually smell her when I sat in the front seat. I could also feel the comfort she and the car had always offered. Oh how I missed her smiles and her laugh.
My best friend from college called me about six weeks after seeing him at Dad's funeral. Jay and his family had been looking for a place to vacation. I hit him with my idea and he said he would toss it around. He wanted me to call him in about two weeks and that time had arrived. Jay & his family loved the idea so the gears were turning towards my goal.
I tore down one of Dad's dilapidated barns and started building a house and barn for myself on the back 10 acres. It had a spring fed pond with a grove of pine trees set off to its west. There was a flat area that could be tilled up for a garden. The ten acres were basically woods with this ideal opening.
I went through the barns and took out all the things I thought I could use and filled my storage barn. I was really proud of my workmanship for a desk jockey. The house was cozy with one great room and a the loft for my bed. I planned on using wood for heat and cooking. I would use only the fallen trees in the woods for that purpose. The wind mill that had been near one of the barns was now in the clearing and going to serve as my source of electricity. If the wind just happened to die down in that little valley I always had the power of the spring. I had channeled it so I could use its force as an energy source.
The last step was the auction to sell all the things remaining that I hadn't needed. The farm had already been sold to Jay on a life estate. I would be the unknown manager and make sure the farmer renting the property remained honest. Jay would deal with the guy by phone but I would write Jay monthly to keep him informed. Jay didn't want to live here now but wanted it for a get-a-way for his wife, kids and him and for a place to grow old. The arrangement was perfect. No one would bother me and I would have NO 'number' connection to the outside bureaucratic world.
I sold the townhouse, the sports car and the truck. My ties to the city were cut. I paid all my credit cards off. It was a little frightening at first but as it was I had nothing to show for all the debt I had incurred. I had been one of the millions helping keep inflation alive and well fed. I turned the money in the bank accounts into cash which I took back to my new home. The banks had a fit. No one should carry that large amount on their person. I told them I didn't trust their wiring technology and left. Everyone in the city I had done business with thought I was leaving for a better job and the people in my home town thought I was heading back to the rat race. Perfect!
I had my home furnished, I had heat, I had electricity, I had an eco green toilet, a water tank on the roof for a shower. The extra electric I stored in batteries so I had lights for the long winter nights and for a radio. No one would know I lived here since the trail I used was the lane to the fields. I got myself a dog, Ruffin, and a kitten, Snickers, for company and rodent control. I also salvaged my two wheel bike from the garage rafters for transportation and exercise. The cabinets where stuffed with food so I didn't need to go anywhere for at least a month. By then the transformation on me would be complete.
The month had passed and I was surprised how busy I had kept myself. The animals were great company and I was glad I had them. When I finally took a gander in the mirror I was startled. If I had had a red nose I would have passed for a clown. Never had I seen myself with long curly locks and scruffy facial hair. No one would recognize me in town now. Jay had left the keys with me for his truck which he stored in the garage and told me I could use it whenever. My drivers licence expired in four days so it was time. I put on shades & Ruffin and I headed to town for some staples and for bite at the local diner to see if anyone recognized me.
It was so amazing. No one showed even a hint of recognition. Ruffin had as much fun as I did on our excursion. I cleared out the junk mail from Jay's mailbox and headed to our home.
Ruffin, Snickers and I celebrated our ten year anniversary today. What an eye opening experience it has been. I'm not angry like I was when I was working. I seem to understand more by having a simpler life. The idea of helping people with welfare and unemployment was a great idea when it was first implemented just like the unions. But the wrong people took over these organization for money, votes and ego trips. The greed grew like a deadly cancer. Before anyone really realized the damage it was doing to the country like it does to a body it had destroyed the pride of our nation. Now we have bred a society with the mentality that the government owes them something. They have contributed nothing but still want more.
I have stopped contributing to these leeches. I pay no taxes except for an occasional monthly trip to the store for groceries or maybe a meal out. That is it! I ride my bike with the attached cart I made and don't need a licence. I am a free man, a happy spirit who loves his country and is very proud to be an American. I am living the American dream because of my loving parents. Finally I know they are truly proud of me. That's why I changed my name to F.L.I.P. Finally Living In Pride.
I have stopped contributing to these leeches. I pay no taxes except for an occasional monthly trip to the store for groceries or maybe a meal out. That is it! I ride my bike with the attached cart I made and don't need a licence. I am a free man, a happy spirit who loves his country and is very proud to be an American. I am living the American dream because of my loving parents. Finally I know they are truly proud of me. That's why I changed my name to F.L.I.P. Finally Living In Pride.
Mitch on Heels By Curlyfro
Ah Crud in a feathered hat! Bernadette is on today! Cripes Almighty, can't a man shop in peace! She must have traded someone because I have NEVER seen her in on Wednesday. "Why Hello Bernadette, working on a Wednesday hey?"
"Yeah, da dird day Jennifer couldn't get a sitter, so she got the can instead. Ha ha ha get it, got the can instead!" chortled Bernadette as she shook out some some plastic bags.
After a minute of deciphering what Bernadette had said, she is missing both front teeth and I thought she said "turd day" I replied.
"Oh the new girl didn't work out, poor thing? She seemed so...Oh that's terrible!"
No, actually it was worse that terrible, it was Rhianna and Eminem "Love the Way You Lie" song Terrible. This was the 3rd week in a row I had come into the Thrifty Nifty to buy my Bargain dream negligee and I sure as a dog eats sh...couldn't get it NOW! I had found out through some small talk, aka flirting with the new girl Jennifer, that she worked from open until lunch on the register on Wednesday by herself. And now after all that plotting and planning, Bernadette, the "I'm on to you " Bernadette is patrolling the register. Now I know how a deflated balloon feels. Or how I think a deflated balloon would feel if it had feelings. Not one of those long balloons used for making animales, but the round ones. Where you could actually see the air going out of it and it makes that noise...
Well, I can't just stand here with my finger in my nose by the entrance all day. I might as well see if it is still here. Geez, nosey Bernadette is still watching me...fiddlesticks...did I take off my stockings? I can't feel them so I must have. What else did I have on earlier? Oh good, she has a customer. Okay, so I should just mosey over to the men's department, look casual and when she forgets about me I'll scamper...no no, I will leisurely make my way to the woman's "socks and more" section. Here we are at "men's shirts", dark blue, blue, light blue, ugly blue. Blah blah blah That's probably enough time here. Oh, are those t-shirts? And we have red, reddish orange, pink? Ha! definitely belonged to a theatre guy, ha ha ha. A quick check on Bernadette. She's now organising shoes, I'd say the coast is clear.
And there it is, Still on the rack! Oh if this isn't a cruel twist of fate. I remember the day a month ago when I had the courage to try it on. I had Stuffed it in a stack of men's pants and had scurried off to the dressing room feeling excited. How ironic I had thought that was! Trying on a DRESS in the DRESSing room. But then Bernadette had intervened from where she was lurking behind a rack to cheerfully tell me "Dree at a Dime, only Dree items at a Dime dear. Want me to hold some stuff on the chair here until you are ready for dem? We can exchange items over the door as you dry them on." Again I probably stood there staring at her confused while I deciphered. Luckily an elderly woman inquired about an exercise bike and I took the moment to grab a few things loose and put some pants away while tucking the treasure back into hiding. I was closing the door of the dressing room when she turned back around and practically closed the door on her face.
It fit like a gem. I felt like Mr. uhm...America. It was a creamy peach and stopped mid calf. When I twirled around it flared like a poodle skirt in the 60's movies. Silky with a bit of lace and the tag was Yellow! Half price for the day. Then I had to put it back. I had told Bernadette, who actually had the nerve to ask why I bought so many "feminine pieces", that my (fictional) mother was bed ridden and needed me to shop for her. "Why would your mother need fancy dresses if she be bedridden?" Ooooh, I can still see her hoity toity smirk. "She must be a mighty large woman too, she's got a be watching out for da cholesterol and da diabetes ya know!" I thanked her for her concerned and made a mental note to never come back. BUT they were located near the theatre house and got an awful lot of beautiful cast offs in all sizes. So a month later I was still trying to get the negligee out of the thrift store without being known as a "drag queen" or a psychopath son buying frilly nighties for his bedridden mother.
Disheartened and becoming angry with the situation I made for the exit.
"Those pants fit you nicely dear, didja get um here?" Bernadette's voice followed me out the door.
At the station wagon I dug for my keys and let myself in sitting on the squirting flower that went with my uniform. Which reminded me AGAIN that the day was going badly. I had cancelled a gig this morning to enable me to get my negligee. There was $50 down the drain. I decided to still go and split the payment with Knucklehead. Today's gig was at the senior center and sure to pay a pretty penny. No really, I would be collecting pennies, polished up and saved since 1930.
When I got to Sunnydale I grabbed my uniform and went in search of Knucklehead. He was just coming out of the bathroom, with five minutes until showtime. Luckily He was ok with splitting the payment since he was coming down with a cold. We reworked our routine then looked into the awaiting crowd. Out of the ten people who showed up four were alert and awake. I decided to do a comedy routine where I would "fall in love" with a lady in the audience. I think I would pick one that was sleeping. Then we would do a tight walking skit followed by washer woman routine where knucklehead accidentally whacks me in the head with a broom several times. Very three stooges, but this crowd should like it.
Five minutes later I reemerged from the bathroom a changed man. I don't do the whole white face paint routine, but dressed simply in a red nose, top hat wild clothes and big shoes. My first gig went better than expected. The four that were awake thought my flirtatiousness with the woman who was snoring, hilarious. That was until she woke up and stumbled away angry thinking I was picking on her, which made them stifle their laughter. The tight rope act was met with silence and the washerwomen got some hee haws. One lady commented to the lady beside her that "those Smuther's Brothers' clothes had really gone down hill" and asked if that was how the kids were dressing these days. Her compainion tried to explain and they ended up getting into an argument. While we were packing up a gentleman approached and asked if we needed any help. The idea of this man using his walker to help us carry our props made me smirk. Then I realized he meant to participate. He went on to say that he was impressed with our show and our mother's must be proud, were we twins? We looked very much alike. A kind nurse came and told him he was tired and should rest after all that stimulation. We looked at her gratefully.
Out at the cars I came up with a brilliant idea to give knucklehead money and asked him to purchase my item. I had him convinced that it was for a skit and he agreed. I made up a lie that I really liked the woman working and didn't want her to know my profession. Knucklehead understood. He had a few dates gone bad by carrying his humor over into everyday life. He followed me to Thrift Nifty and I gave him instructions then waited in the car.
Ten minutes later Knucklehead, (Steve) exited. Without a bag. My heart sank for the second time today. It was gone. Someone had purchased my item. Why was he smiling? "Did you get it?" I asked trying to keep the disappointment from my voice.
"I've got you all set up man" he replied still smirking. "Just be at the corner diner at 6:00, you can thank me later. Oh and I explained why you wanted it, it's all in the clear."
"NO, You DIDN'T!?" I gasped with my jaw dropped
"I want you to be happy man, this isn't the life for everyone, Me, I'm gonna go home and sleep off this cold." With that he got into his car and drove off, still smiling.
I tried looking into the shop's windows to see who was at the counter and just asked on a blind date with a secret admirer. Who would actually agree to that? Bernadette. I could only see some blond girl, I think her name was Donna. No Bernadette. Man, wouldn't that be a doozy, as my seven year old nephew would say. This could go down ok, I could get my negligee, dinner, and save face with it being for my "uniform". Then politely break it off, claiming I had no time to spend on wooing.
As it turned out it was Bernadette at the diner, 6:00 sharp. She was wearing a red dress and red lipstick, which drew attention to her toothlessness. Smiling she put the bag on the table as I sat down in the chair across from her. Evidently she had a crush on me and was estatic when Steve gave her the scoop. She rambled away until the waitress came, then said "do you just want to eat at my place? I have a surprise for you!"
Stuttering, I was visualizing the worst and stammered "I I I I I wanna take it slow, I I I think we should just order dessert and go!"
She turned red and stormed out throwing the bag in my lap. Something dug into my thigh and I looked down to see a monsterous yellow high heel. "What the...?" my bipolar mother who was actually in prison used to wear yellow heels. We knew to stay out of her way when she wore them. I was starting to have trouble breathing and forced myself up.
I raced out after Bernadette who was already getting into an old faded F150.
"Wait...Please, I am sorry! What is this?" I asked holding up the shoe like it was a posionous snake.
Her face was red and possibly wet. "I thought it would look pretty with your dress, which I was going to wash and iron but ran out of dime. I was going to take you home to give it to you. It'd be a little weird to hand a guy a dress and heels on a first date. At least in public I guess." She spit out at me defensivly.
I ended up going home with her. Met her fourteen cats and got my negligee. She made me promise to invite her to my next job so she could see me in my costumes.
Needless to say the gig is this Thursday, I need to come to terms with being a cross dresser and might as well do it in public. Surpringly I acutally kind of like her...oh and the shoes, they are back on the shelf at the thrifty nifty. I told her they were "uncomfortable".
Friday, July 23, 2010
Story climax between a porcupine, a poisonous dart frog and a diamondback rattle snake. Must include a flashback, oppression, and character's struggle
Three Strikes By Curlyfro
So there I was on deck in the last inning. The game was tied and no one was on base. Both Tony and Eric had struck out and Andrew was getting ready to take his first swing. We were the last two teams left in the tournament, the Pottsville Middle School Poisonous Dart Frogs vs the Butler Middle School Diamondback Rattlesnakes. We Dart Frogs had smoked the Porcupines last night. Nothing but quills left when we were done with them! I had almost forgotten to bring the snack today, I was so worked up that I hadn't realized I had forgot them until I hit Main Street. So I had to bike back double time to get the snicker doodles grandma had made. She wanted to be supportive since she couldn't be there to watch me, so I let her make the snack. I had mowed yards all summer (well the yards on our street since my mom thinks there are kidnappers on every corner waiting for a 14 year old kid) and was still $5 short when I bought the bat on Saturday. I had forgotten about the tax so grandma chipped in when she saw me go limp with despair.
Anyway, this is the most important win of the season, of my life maybe and I can't focus...Yes- Andrew got on first base! Andrew's problem is he hesitates, he could have made it to second, but missed the opportunity. OK, no pressure, just breathe, you've got Silverton The Second (that's what I've named my bat, it replaced ol' Silverton) and the whole game depends on me not striking out AND getting Andrew home. Now why did the pitcher smirk? He thinks he's got me, he thinks...."STRIKE"...crud!... Focus focus focus! ok ok ok...that was just luck, don't look at his face, just focus on the ball, ..."STRIKE"...WHY did I swing at that? Why Why Why? What is coach shouting? And why is Andrew shaking his head? Andrew's other problem is that he is sooo competitive, I mean it is a game, we are suppose to have fun right! ok ok, here we go, he's going to go straight down the middle, here it comes, it's perfect! CRACK, It's good! It's gone! Aw Silverton, ya lucky bugger! There's first, they are still running after the ball, and there's second. They've got the ball and Andrew is going for home and they're throwing the ball, RUN! he's safe!!! We won! We Won!
ONE FOR THE REPTILE By Lamommasita
The shower was still running so off dashed Sammy to the basement. He tapped on his pocket to make sure it was there as he placed the stool by the tank. Slowly he lifted a side on the top of the tank that housed Nate's pride and joy he had used his allowance to buy, a Diamondback Rattlesnake. Sammy hated that snake for several reasons. But today he would get rid of it and get even with his older brother.
Where was that ugly diamondback Nate called Gem? Sammy couldn't see it. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his shaking arms. Slowly & trembling he lifted the lock on the mesh top. Just as he held the top up about three inches his pants' button hit the glass on the side of the tank. Sammy screamed and fell backwards off the stool. Thank heavens the cement floor was carpeted because he would have been all scraped up. Then how would he have explained that? He sat there a little bit to listen for some movement upstairs. Mommy was on the phone to Granny, Daddy wasn't home yet and Nate was still in the shower. Since he could still hear the water rushing down the pipes to the septic. Sammy tried again but as he got up on the stool and started for the lid, there in the corner of the tank something moved. Oh how Sammy wished the basement had better lighting and that that stupid snake didn't look like Daddy's dark wool sweater. He had always been told not to go to near the tanks by his parents and Nate and he wished he had another choice. But he didn't and he had to do this. He recalled how Nate had given their dog his favorite stuffed porcupine toy that Santa had given him one Christmas. He loved that porcupine. Needles was his name and he protected him at bedtime to keep monsters away. No monsters in the closet or under the bed would come near Needles because he had the ability to stab them until they would cry. Sammy also remembered the awesome gift his Daddy brought him on one of his business trips. His Daddy had him look under his blue printed tie he was wearing that night. As he lifted the tie something moved and jump out at him. Sammy shock his head thinking about this and how embarrassed he was by his reaction. He had screamed and ran behind his Mommy. Well Nate never let him live it down and teased him constantly about being a baby. Nate had told his friends and when they would see him they would chant..." Sammy's a baby, Sammy's a girl...if he sees a rubber frog he'll run and his girlie skirt will whirl!" Sammy could feel his face heat up with anger. He still was a little frightened by his Poisonous Dart Frog but as long as he put it in his locked trunk at night that frog was da bomb during the daylight. Man it would stick to the windows and the shower, how cool was that! "Well it doesn't stick anymore!"...Sammy said out loud. Nate had to test out his new pocket knife and did it on frogger's feet. How awesome is a rubber frog without feet!
That was it! Slowly Sammy pulled the yellow box out of his pants pocket. He put it up to the lid and tried to pour it into the glass tank. Crap...he hadn't pulled the stupid lid back far enough. He was shaking so badly he could barley stand on the old stool and yet managed to pull off more of the lid. Again he tried lifting the lid and shake the box..he lost his balance and feel into the side of the tank. OH NO....there she was...that poisonous snake was heading up the side of the tank. OH SHOOT...Sammy wanted to back out in the worse way but he had to continue for the sake of his porcupine and footless dart frog. As he was starting to shake the box again the snake lunged and grabbed the box!!! Sammy was so scared he couldn't make a noise. He felt the snake's mouth touch his fingers. OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD and the tears flowed down Sammy's flush face. He was dead. The plan had failed. He had been punished the way he had been wanting to punish Nate for all his meanness. How could this have happen? Sammy could feel a heavy weight on his chest. He heard his Mommy calling his name which he knew she would found his limp body on the basement floor and she would be crying anytime now. How could this have gone so miserably wrong thought Sammy. WAIT....you can't think if you are dead. He tried to sit up but was restricted. Here the old stool had toppled on him in the fall. His Mommy wasn't calling him it was the whooshing of the washer spinning out. Sammy looked for Gem. Oh my goodness....she was still in the tank and so was the yellow box lid. Slowly Sammy pushed the stool off of his chest and approached the snake tank. Gem had headed back toward her shoe box and the yellow lid was stuck on the tip of a twig on an old branch in which Nate had decorated the tank. Where was the rest of the yellow box and its contents? There on the basement floor was the bottom of the yellow box but where, OH NO where was the rest of it? Sammy searched the floor, rechecked his pockets, frantically scanned Gem's tank. And there, there is was....it just had to be......Gem must have devoured it sideways and Sammy could make it out about five inches down her neck. It was all Sammy could do to keep from screaming with joy. His plan had worked!!! Sammy hurried to pick the lid off the twig on the top branch, lock Gem's tank, put the stool back, put the yellow lid on it's bottom, stuffed it in his pocket and flew up the basement steps. Just as his right hand touched the door knob, he jumped! He could hear Nate yelling " Mom have you seem my pocket knife?" All of a sudden Sammy felt a kinship with Gem...they shared a secret!
So there I was on deck in the last inning. The game was tied and no one was on base. Both Tony and Eric had struck out and Andrew was getting ready to take his first swing. We were the last two teams left in the tournament, the Pottsville Middle School Poisonous Dart Frogs vs the Butler Middle School Diamondback Rattlesnakes. We Dart Frogs had smoked the Porcupines last night. Nothing but quills left when we were done with them! I had almost forgotten to bring the snack today, I was so worked up that I hadn't realized I had forgot them until I hit Main Street. So I had to bike back double time to get the snicker doodles grandma had made. She wanted to be supportive since she couldn't be there to watch me, so I let her make the snack. I had mowed yards all summer (well the yards on our street since my mom thinks there are kidnappers on every corner waiting for a 14 year old kid) and was still $5 short when I bought the bat on Saturday. I had forgotten about the tax so grandma chipped in when she saw me go limp with despair.
Anyway, this is the most important win of the season, of my life maybe and I can't focus...Yes- Andrew got on first base! Andrew's problem is he hesitates, he could have made it to second, but missed the opportunity. OK, no pressure, just breathe, you've got Silverton The Second (that's what I've named my bat, it replaced ol' Silverton) and the whole game depends on me not striking out AND getting Andrew home. Now why did the pitcher smirk? He thinks he's got me, he thinks...."STRIKE"...crud!... Focus focus focus! ok ok ok...that was just luck, don't look at his face, just focus on the ball, ..."STRIKE"...WHY did I swing at that? Why Why Why? What is coach shouting? And why is Andrew shaking his head? Andrew's other problem is that he is sooo competitive, I mean it is a game, we are suppose to have fun right! ok ok, here we go, he's going to go straight down the middle, here it comes, it's perfect! CRACK, It's good! It's gone! Aw Silverton, ya lucky bugger! There's first, they are still running after the ball, and there's second. They've got the ball and Andrew is going for home and they're throwing the ball, RUN! he's safe!!! We won! We Won!
ONE FOR THE REPTILE By Lamommasita
The shower was still running so off dashed Sammy to the basement. He tapped on his pocket to make sure it was there as he placed the stool by the tank. Slowly he lifted a side on the top of the tank that housed Nate's pride and joy he had used his allowance to buy, a Diamondback Rattlesnake. Sammy hated that snake for several reasons. But today he would get rid of it and get even with his older brother.
Where was that ugly diamondback Nate called Gem? Sammy couldn't see it. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his shaking arms. Slowly & trembling he lifted the lock on the mesh top. Just as he held the top up about three inches his pants' button hit the glass on the side of the tank. Sammy screamed and fell backwards off the stool. Thank heavens the cement floor was carpeted because he would have been all scraped up. Then how would he have explained that? He sat there a little bit to listen for some movement upstairs. Mommy was on the phone to Granny, Daddy wasn't home yet and Nate was still in the shower. Since he could still hear the water rushing down the pipes to the septic. Sammy tried again but as he got up on the stool and started for the lid, there in the corner of the tank something moved. Oh how Sammy wished the basement had better lighting and that that stupid snake didn't look like Daddy's dark wool sweater. He had always been told not to go to near the tanks by his parents and Nate and he wished he had another choice. But he didn't and he had to do this. He recalled how Nate had given their dog his favorite stuffed porcupine toy that Santa had given him one Christmas. He loved that porcupine. Needles was his name and he protected him at bedtime to keep monsters away. No monsters in the closet or under the bed would come near Needles because he had the ability to stab them until they would cry. Sammy also remembered the awesome gift his Daddy brought him on one of his business trips. His Daddy had him look under his blue printed tie he was wearing that night. As he lifted the tie something moved and jump out at him. Sammy shock his head thinking about this and how embarrassed he was by his reaction. He had screamed and ran behind his Mommy. Well Nate never let him live it down and teased him constantly about being a baby. Nate had told his friends and when they would see him they would chant..." Sammy's a baby, Sammy's a girl...if he sees a rubber frog he'll run and his girlie skirt will whirl!" Sammy could feel his face heat up with anger. He still was a little frightened by his Poisonous Dart Frog but as long as he put it in his locked trunk at night that frog was da bomb during the daylight. Man it would stick to the windows and the shower, how cool was that! "Well it doesn't stick anymore!"...Sammy said out loud. Nate had to test out his new pocket knife and did it on frogger's feet. How awesome is a rubber frog without feet!
That was it! Slowly Sammy pulled the yellow box out of his pants pocket. He put it up to the lid and tried to pour it into the glass tank. Crap...he hadn't pulled the stupid lid back far enough. He was shaking so badly he could barley stand on the old stool and yet managed to pull off more of the lid. Again he tried lifting the lid and shake the box..he lost his balance and feel into the side of the tank. OH NO....there she was...that poisonous snake was heading up the side of the tank. OH SHOOT...Sammy wanted to back out in the worse way but he had to continue for the sake of his porcupine and footless dart frog. As he was starting to shake the box again the snake lunged and grabbed the box!!! Sammy was so scared he couldn't make a noise. He felt the snake's mouth touch his fingers. OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD and the tears flowed down Sammy's flush face. He was dead. The plan had failed. He had been punished the way he had been wanting to punish Nate for all his meanness. How could this have happen? Sammy could feel a heavy weight on his chest. He heard his Mommy calling his name which he knew she would found his limp body on the basement floor and she would be crying anytime now. How could this have gone so miserably wrong thought Sammy. WAIT....you can't think if you are dead. He tried to sit up but was restricted. Here the old stool had toppled on him in the fall. His Mommy wasn't calling him it was the whooshing of the washer spinning out. Sammy looked for Gem. Oh my goodness....she was still in the tank and so was the yellow box lid. Slowly Sammy pushed the stool off of his chest and approached the snake tank. Gem had headed back toward her shoe box and the yellow lid was stuck on the tip of a twig on an old branch in which Nate had decorated the tank. Where was the rest of the yellow box and its contents? There on the basement floor was the bottom of the yellow box but where, OH NO where was the rest of it? Sammy searched the floor, rechecked his pockets, frantically scanned Gem's tank. And there, there is was....it just had to be......Gem must have devoured it sideways and Sammy could make it out about five inches down her neck. It was all Sammy could do to keep from screaming with joy. His plan had worked!!! Sammy hurried to pick the lid off the twig on the top branch, lock Gem's tank, put the stool back, put the yellow lid on it's bottom, stuffed it in his pocket and flew up the basement steps. Just as his right hand touched the door knob, he jumped! He could hear Nate yelling " Mom have you seem my pocket knife?" All of a sudden Sammy felt a kinship with Gem...they shared a secret!
Writing assignment: The story of the single shoe by the roadside. Must include a used tea bag and a dirty coffee cup.
A Walk to Remember By Curlyfro
Tuesday, June 20
So Gilbert and I were finally taking that trip. We started out From Pitlochry and were making our way down the coast to see the castles of the Eastern Britain. Of course Gilbert has to drive with his shoes off. So I had the window all the way down ruining my pompadour, which I had spent an hour on this morning. I had never considered how difficult it would be to get ready in a motor home. We've raised two daughters and spent six years of my life dodging curlers and hairspray, still I had never had so much trouble moving around. After approximately twenty minutes of trying to explain to Gilbert that I had waited 30 years for this trip, there was no deadline on getting home and that I wanted to enjoy myself by taking the coastal roads. He stuck his head out the window and yelled "pick up your tent and move asshole" to the lorry in front of us. Shaking my head I decided to make myself a spot of tea for I definitely had some nerves to calm if we were both coming out of this trip alive. If I had thought getting ready in the bathroom was an adventure, then getting myself out of the seat was a real treat. My legs aren't what they used to be and I am not merely talking of appearance. When I had finally made my way to the kitchenette, which I had packed like a well ordered lunch box while Gilbert was off with his cronies playing Rummy, Gilbert decided he had enough and sped into the passing lane to overtake the "asshole". His acceleration threw me into the counter and once I had righted myself and walked towards the cabinet he slammed on the breaks mumbling something about eating smashed plums. Arms flailing I managed to land on the sofa slamming my shin on Gilbert's walker in the process. I decided Gilbert would probably enjoy the used tea bag that was currently being used by a fly and had been sitting in the sink since breakfast. Apparently in a better mood since he was "King of the highway" Gilbert started to whistle and ask if everything was "ok in the backside toots?". "Just dandy" I replied in an even tone. Bringing the tea up a few minutes later, Gilbert said he would rather have some coffee "if it's not too much of a bother love". So being the spend thrift I am I ended up drinking both cups of tea, fly poop and all, while Gilbert got his fresh coffee. Thank Goodness the rest of the afternoon was unadventurous, other than Gilbert's driving, which I just tried to ignore.
We arrived at the first castle around lunch time after a harrowing experience trying to get the "cheese wagon" ,as the grand kids call our orange mobile home, into a handicap spot made for a compact car. Due to the Medication I am on I need to stay out of the sun, but wanted to utilize a picnic table and enjoy God's green earth. While I packed the picnic basket Gilbert went around and kicked each tire...twice. I shouted that we were ready to go and he tottered over to the only table in the shade about 100 feet away. "Gilbert" I hissed "Gilbert", louder this time and finally "GILBERT!". I could hear his hearing aid buzzing as he whipped around. "Christ all mighty, What's all the racket for Dolores?" rolling my eyes and answering in the sweetest voice I could muster "Don't you think you should use your walker since we parked in the handicapped parking?" and of course his reply "No one will know it is ours". With that he turned around and continued walking, with seemingly more pep in his step. "If you are as fit as a fiddle maybe you could help me carry your lunch I shouted to his back. Miraculously he never heard that.
As I was getting ready to sit down I noticed a thong in the grass. "Gilbert, is that a thong over there by that tree?" oh boy was he up and investigating instantly.
"No, it is a flip flop Dolores, how can you confuse a flip flop for a thong?"
"That's what flip flops are called dear, and what were you so excited about a "thong" for anyway?"
The meal was finished in relative silence. Gilbert was fantasizing about the thong, I presume and I was playing Nancy Drew trying to figure out what a single shoe would be doing out here by the castle. It was a touristy site, who would come with both shoes and leave with one?
Monday, June 19th
We were finally taking that trip. Having missed out on a honeymoon we finally had the chance to take a vacation. Being in England, my husband Frank found a flier for a castle that puts all the lights on at dusk. "It's suppose to be beautiful" he raved. I made him trudge through the Victorian garden this morning, so a castle walk at night wouldn't be a big deal. Although I feel childish admitting it, I am very "uncomfortable" in the dark. Outside. In the middle of no where. The flier showed parking about a mile from the train depot which actually took you to the entrance under the castle, which had a moat, but not a working bridge. I copied it down on a piece of scrap paper with my lucky blue pen from Mexico. I suggested we get there early. If I had to walk a mile in the dark through a small canyon, I wanted to do it as few times as possible. Plus, I had added, we could see it during the day and at night for the same admission cost.We stopped at a little tourist town and grabbed some dinner. While waiting for our table I scanned the "things to do" board in the lobby. Apparently the village was warning people about a man holding tourists hostage for ransom. Nothing real informative was known at the time it was printed. It seemed a little humorous to me. The townspeople starting a neighborhood watch, but didn't want to give the person's identity away. We were seated and had ordered within the next five minutes. My husband claimed he ordered anything that didn't include "bangers" and I had a cucumber sandwich which arrived with a dirty coffee cup and some instant coffee. Bon Appetite as Julia Child would say- in well, France.
We hopped back in the car and figured we were about 10 minutes from the castle parking.
The castle was very secluded. Nothing but cattle and rolling plains from the little town until we got to the parking, though the road was pretty busy.You could catch a glimpse of the castle roof from the road before we made a turn into the parking lot, but it was up a hill and behind a woods. There was a small canyon about 500 feet from the parking lot and the train depot was beyond that. The place was jumping with people and I wondered where everyone came from. There weren't that many cars on the road! I grabbed the camera, the information I copied, and the flashlights and were on our way. There had been some sort of explosion or rock slide in the canyon and there were clusters of people clambering over the rocks, so we set off to join in. It was then that I realized more people were leaving than coming in, although their were still quite a few people in the canyon going towards the castle. By the time we got through the canyon my feet were cut up and bleeding, what a genius wearing flip flops, and it was almost dusk. We sat down for a moment so I could inspect my feet and Frank brought it to my attention that the last few people were coming out of the canyon and there was no one behind them. "No one wants to climb thorough that twice in the dark!" I concluded and we got up to finish our hike to the depot. It was a beautiful night, cool, breezy, crickets chirping in another country. The depot had white lights strung up on the roof and looked like some dilapidated pioneer barn. With lights.
We got our tickets to the castle, the next "train" left in 5 minutes, so we hurried along. As we turned down the hall to the boarding area the last people were getting on and the "conductor" was claiming "doors are closing". We ran up to it as it was pulling away and I tried to swing a door open as it picked up speed. Just then a man in jean shorts and no shirt walked up from behind us and asked to see our itinerary. I dug it out of my purse and gave it to him. He grunted, smiled, and walked through some doors in the back of the room, shutting them behind him. When I glance down at the paper, wondering what was so amusing, I saw that I had written in red pen next to this train "NO". I was shocked. I didn't have a red pen when I was coping this down, but it was in my handwriting. I asked Frank if he had seen it and he claimed he found it odd that I had written it when he had looked at it earlier. Befuddled we sat on the benches and waited for the next car. 30 minutes later I walked back to the front counter to inquire about the next train. There was no one there, I searched, calling out "anyone there?" and the place was empty. Frank came up after hearing my yelling and I decided we were just going to leave. I was creeped out. A little weirded out himself, Frank and I headed back to the canyon. Being paranoid now, I kept hearing noises and insisted we walk faster. The flashlights were dollar specials and didn't do a whole lot of "lighting", more targeting our location than anything else. The rocks were really tearing up my feet now and I realised as we neared the exit that I was panicking. Frank shushed me and we could hear little rocks still falling behind us. "There is someone back there" Frank finally admitted. We were on the last few boulders out of the canyon in less than a minute and sprinting now. As we rounded the picnic area my flip flop broke and Frank hissed "I can't find the keys!" When we got to the car we huddled, crouched down on the driver's side and listened. I couldn't hear anything over my own breathing and heart pounding, and searched my purse for the extra key. "I've got it!" I yelped as I heard someone on the stone lot. We scrambled into the car, me in the back, him driving and whipped out of the spot, hitting something with a thud. We drove back towards the Inn and debated what to report if anything, I mean, we hadn't actually seen anyone and didn't know their intent. Just then the car started driving funny and Frank said "We have something stuck to the car!" We drove the rest of the way swerving back and forth until whatever it was finally came off. When we got to the Inn we locked up and ran inside to call the police. We stayed inside until we say the lights of the patrol car and then hurried out to meet them. It wasn't until the police wanted to see the car that we noticed it was dented and bloodied...
Later Tuesday June 20th
After a lovely lunch, though quiet I had come to the conclusion that a group of young adults had been gallivanting around and one of the boys threw a girls flip flop out of the window as they were leaving the castle. That, dear Watson is what must have happened. Young love. With that I looked over at Gilbert and smugly thought, those kids will one day grow old like good ol' Bert here. Gilbert caught me staring at him and mistook the look for let's go. He grabbed up the picnic basket and said to go ahead and start up the machine, which was a description of how I walk before my knees limber up again, he'd catch up. He had put the basket in the car and meet up with me 100 feet from where we'd sat and said "How do you reckon we'll make it up that?". I was so busy watching my step that I didn't see the path was covered with falling boulders. "Well craps almighty!" I exclaimed "That really busts my buttons!". No signs or nothing indicating that the park was closed. In fact there weren't any people bustling about now that I actually took it all in. "No point in standing here watching the crickets jump, let's head on out" Gilbert exclaimed. Probably secretly thrilled at the idea of knocking a few hours off the trip. So we shuffled back to the car. "What did you hit Gil?" His face got red and before he was able to get out a defensive retort I had pulled the yellow banner off the hood. Whipping my glasses off my blouse I read "CRIME SCENE" several times across the banner. "By George Gilbert! Someone was killed here and we disturbed the evidence!" Mumbling, Gilbert took the banner and came to the same conclusion "best be heading out then" he added and we climbed aboard. Gilbert pulled out of there with a little more gusto than necessary while I looked at the map for a local sheriff department. I bantered that we should at least let them know we meant no harm. Gilbert said we were NOT stopping, we had a vacation to finish and we were going to do just that! We settled for stopping at the Loch side Inn. mostly because Gilbert needed to use the facilities and I refused to sit through that stench in the car. Again, parking was a nightmare and 15 minutes later we were walking towards the front door. Gilbert went his way and I confessed everything to the desk manager. She said the murderers had actually eaten at that very restaurant the previous day and for a small charge we could sit at their table. "Lord have mercy" I exclaimed, "what happened?" I guess a couple had gotten spooked and backed over someone, they had been taken away in the police cruiser. When Gilbert came out I explained everything and we went directly home. I would wait another 30 years before going on vacation if I had to deal with a bunch of hoodlums!
THE REBEL SOLES by Lamommasita
Have you ever wondered why there is just one shoe along the roadside, in a ditch, at the beach or in a parking lot? Are there individuals somewhere out there carrying on their lives with only one foot shoed. At any given time did a passenger in a moving vehicle just randomly put down the window and decided to see if their shoe could keep up with them, either by flying or taking off running beside the vehicle? Then when they realized their hypotheses hadn't been well thought out; are they too embarrassed to ask the driver to turn around to retrieve their bruised up shoe. How and why are all these different sizes, shapes, and brands out there in the elements and their owners or mates aren't out there rescuing them. Well after many hours of research and interviews the questions have been somewhat answered if you believe the explanations.
Before we begin let me introduce myself. My name is Lil Shoehorn and I'm a freelance writer. I am originally from the great state of Illinois but I go wherever there's a story to be told. Around the circuit I'm known to be the one that can wiggle my way into an interview and slip out with a story that other reporters would never have seen news worthy. Some of the shoes, flip flops, boots, tennies didn't want to talk to me at first but with a little coaxing I got them to come around. It seems as if the footwear world has it's share of rebels. So without further delay lets get to the interviews so you can understand a little bit more of what you have been seeing.
Ms Fancy was spotted in the theater district in downtown Atlanta. She is a thin single-strap, 4" spike high heel, striking red patent leather with a shy demeanor. We decided to meet at a quaint little tea shop for the interview.
"Welcome Ms Fancy, is it alright to address you as Ms Fancy or would you like me to address you in some other manner?" I asked as to open up the conversation.
"Oh please call me Ms Fancy, my daddy always called me that and I am taken up by that name. My daddy was a wanderer I have always been told" She replied with a tense smile and sipped some tea.
Man...I felt like a used tea bag in a dirty coffee cup next to her. "Please tell my why you are not with your mirrored image or with a wearer instead out here by yourself." I asked pointedly.
"Well I just couldn't take it any longer in that dreadful one room box. The Wearer had 76 boxes and each box was assigned to an outfit. My mirror image and I were assigned to a short, sateen, red cocktail dress. If the Wearer didn't want to don the dress we remained in that prison box. I must have some of my daddy's leather genes in me because I began to plot my way out of there. I just hatred that dark, dark place." Ms Fancy dotted the corner of her eyes and took another sip of tea. "I'm sorry for that weak moment I won't let it happen again." "Take your time," I tried to comfort her and had a spot of tea myself.
"I'm better" she said after a substantial pause and continued. "My Wearer and her husband had a fun raiser to attend out of town. She packed our assigned dress so we had some freedom ahead of us. Yes this is when I put my escape into effect. When she was packing to come home she accidentally set me on the edge of the bed. While she was in the other room I slid off the covers and hid behind the bunched up comforter. Here I am today a wiser and happier red patent leather. I have experienced a wonderful life and have never wanted to walk back."
Our next guest is a robust, tooled, brown, cowhide leather cowboy boot which naturally wants me to call him Rex Tex or just Tex. We meet at a local barbecue diner for a beer in Kidder, S.D.
"Good evening Mr. Tex, thank you for meeting me here." I greeted him as he waited for me to take my seat.
"Good even'n Mam" he said with that southern draw and a welcoming smile.
"Would you like to tell me your story and how in the world you ended up here in South Dakota?" I coaxed him to stop drinking and start talking.
" Well ya I wreck'n I mize well get started here before dem routies gets too loud at da bar & you can't hear me" he said in his slow manner as he leaned back in his chair and tossed me a wink.
Wow what a charmer! Well back to the questions before I forget why I'm here.
"Yep I was just like any other cow boot in Texas but I wanted to see this here beautiful countree of hours. Ya can't blame a guy for just pick'n up & move'n on now can ya. Hell I got tired of that same old shit. Day in and day out stepping in horse shit, cattle shit and taken shit from the foremen. So one day I just jumped out the back of de horse trailer Here I am enjoy'n the good ol' life out here under da stars like my ancestors." With that Tex downed another beer. Tex was proud of his heritage and continued to talk about everything unrelated to my topic. Hard as I tried Tex kept veering away from the subject. He had several more beers and became one of the routies before the night was over. I bid him good night and left him with his buddies.
There are so many footwear rebels but we are "running" out of time so I will share with you one more story. No the running used previously was not an accident. Our next guest is a man-made upper done in navy and yellow with leather tread. He is a running shoe called Tenny.
"Well how are you doing this beautiful morning Tenny?" I greeted him as he entered the park near the duck pond in lower New York City. Tenny was without laces and seemed to be enjoy the cool breeze.
"Yo Babe you got somethin hot going on there girl" Tenny did some groovin' moves as he slid over next to me. "Yeah yous and me could get somethin goin' girl"
"Tenny I'm glad you could break away for this interview and answer some questions for me." I tried to keep him at shoelace distance but this dude was really full of himself. " Now tell me why you decided to live on the streets and not with your Wearer."
"Well it's like dis Hot Stuf, how in the world could a star stud like me be stuck with just one Wearer. Get real...I belongs to da world. I enjoys my laces lose & fancy foot free life. I don'ts have to ant sirs to no one and can be where ever I wants to be when I wants to be, dog. Me and my homies gots da life and the rest of da footies just keeps follow sum body elses rules. Hell day can't even decide if day want to have dem fat o' sticky feets in dem all day. Day can't even have a freakin' day off. That ain't da life for me. Me was made for playin' Baby and dat is whats me's gone ah do. Now if yous don't mine, I gots to be chillin' with sum bros n shoots sum hoops." Tenny no more than finished the last word and took off. I didnt' even get a chance to ask him how he made it to the streets.
I have interviewed millions of loners or Rebels, as they prefer to be called, and found out some of their rules for survival. If you recall you never see a Rebel in the upright postion. This isn't an accident. If a vehicle or human is within a mile radius they lay down. They have picked this tactic up from the opposum clan. Now if they are going to rest they usually do this in a secluded area but sometimes the route they are on is too busy and they can't take the risk of being seen moving. So the weary traveler will just lie down in his tracks. Whatever you do...don't touch a Rebel! They fear being taken back to the life they walked away from and they will kick and thamp and then walk all over you. Now think about it....is it worth your reputation. Do you really think anyone is going to believe a shoe with no Wearer could do that to you!
Thank you for letting me slip into your lives and remember the club motto of these Rebel Soles. "You can only feel like a Heel if you don't follow your Sole!" Until next time.....Good Night....Lil Shoehorn.
Tuesday, June 20
So Gilbert and I were finally taking that trip. We started out From Pitlochry and were making our way down the coast to see the castles of the Eastern Britain. Of course Gilbert has to drive with his shoes off. So I had the window all the way down ruining my pompadour, which I had spent an hour on this morning. I had never considered how difficult it would be to get ready in a motor home. We've raised two daughters and spent six years of my life dodging curlers and hairspray, still I had never had so much trouble moving around. After approximately twenty minutes of trying to explain to Gilbert that I had waited 30 years for this trip, there was no deadline on getting home and that I wanted to enjoy myself by taking the coastal roads. He stuck his head out the window and yelled "pick up your tent and move asshole" to the lorry in front of us. Shaking my head I decided to make myself a spot of tea for I definitely had some nerves to calm if we were both coming out of this trip alive. If I had thought getting ready in the bathroom was an adventure, then getting myself out of the seat was a real treat. My legs aren't what they used to be and I am not merely talking of appearance. When I had finally made my way to the kitchenette, which I had packed like a well ordered lunch box while Gilbert was off with his cronies playing Rummy, Gilbert decided he had enough and sped into the passing lane to overtake the "asshole". His acceleration threw me into the counter and once I had righted myself and walked towards the cabinet he slammed on the breaks mumbling something about eating smashed plums. Arms flailing I managed to land on the sofa slamming my shin on Gilbert's walker in the process. I decided Gilbert would probably enjoy the used tea bag that was currently being used by a fly and had been sitting in the sink since breakfast. Apparently in a better mood since he was "King of the highway" Gilbert started to whistle and ask if everything was "ok in the backside toots?". "Just dandy" I replied in an even tone. Bringing the tea up a few minutes later, Gilbert said he would rather have some coffee "if it's not too much of a bother love". So being the spend thrift I am I ended up drinking both cups of tea, fly poop and all, while Gilbert got his fresh coffee. Thank Goodness the rest of the afternoon was unadventurous, other than Gilbert's driving, which I just tried to ignore.
We arrived at the first castle around lunch time after a harrowing experience trying to get the "cheese wagon" ,as the grand kids call our orange mobile home, into a handicap spot made for a compact car. Due to the Medication I am on I need to stay out of the sun, but wanted to utilize a picnic table and enjoy God's green earth. While I packed the picnic basket Gilbert went around and kicked each tire...twice. I shouted that we were ready to go and he tottered over to the only table in the shade about 100 feet away. "Gilbert" I hissed "Gilbert", louder this time and finally "GILBERT!". I could hear his hearing aid buzzing as he whipped around. "Christ all mighty, What's all the racket for Dolores?" rolling my eyes and answering in the sweetest voice I could muster "Don't you think you should use your walker since we parked in the handicapped parking?" and of course his reply "No one will know it is ours". With that he turned around and continued walking, with seemingly more pep in his step. "If you are as fit as a fiddle maybe you could help me carry your lunch I shouted to his back. Miraculously he never heard that.
As I was getting ready to sit down I noticed a thong in the grass. "Gilbert, is that a thong over there by that tree?" oh boy was he up and investigating instantly.
"No, it is a flip flop Dolores, how can you confuse a flip flop for a thong?"
"That's what flip flops are called dear, and what were you so excited about a "thong" for anyway?"
The meal was finished in relative silence. Gilbert was fantasizing about the thong, I presume and I was playing Nancy Drew trying to figure out what a single shoe would be doing out here by the castle. It was a touristy site, who would come with both shoes and leave with one?
Monday, June 19th
We were finally taking that trip. Having missed out on a honeymoon we finally had the chance to take a vacation. Being in England, my husband Frank found a flier for a castle that puts all the lights on at dusk. "It's suppose to be beautiful" he raved. I made him trudge through the Victorian garden this morning, so a castle walk at night wouldn't be a big deal. Although I feel childish admitting it, I am very "uncomfortable" in the dark. Outside. In the middle of no where. The flier showed parking about a mile from the train depot which actually took you to the entrance under the castle, which had a moat, but not a working bridge. I copied it down on a piece of scrap paper with my lucky blue pen from Mexico. I suggested we get there early. If I had to walk a mile in the dark through a small canyon, I wanted to do it as few times as possible. Plus, I had added, we could see it during the day and at night for the same admission cost.We stopped at a little tourist town and grabbed some dinner. While waiting for our table I scanned the "things to do" board in the lobby. Apparently the village was warning people about a man holding tourists hostage for ransom. Nothing real informative was known at the time it was printed. It seemed a little humorous to me. The townspeople starting a neighborhood watch, but didn't want to give the person's identity away. We were seated and had ordered within the next five minutes. My husband claimed he ordered anything that didn't include "bangers" and I had a cucumber sandwich which arrived with a dirty coffee cup and some instant coffee. Bon Appetite as Julia Child would say- in well, France.
We hopped back in the car and figured we were about 10 minutes from the castle parking.
The castle was very secluded. Nothing but cattle and rolling plains from the little town until we got to the parking, though the road was pretty busy.You could catch a glimpse of the castle roof from the road before we made a turn into the parking lot, but it was up a hill and behind a woods. There was a small canyon about 500 feet from the parking lot and the train depot was beyond that. The place was jumping with people and I wondered where everyone came from. There weren't that many cars on the road! I grabbed the camera, the information I copied, and the flashlights and were on our way. There had been some sort of explosion or rock slide in the canyon and there were clusters of people clambering over the rocks, so we set off to join in. It was then that I realized more people were leaving than coming in, although their were still quite a few people in the canyon going towards the castle. By the time we got through the canyon my feet were cut up and bleeding, what a genius wearing flip flops, and it was almost dusk. We sat down for a moment so I could inspect my feet and Frank brought it to my attention that the last few people were coming out of the canyon and there was no one behind them. "No one wants to climb thorough that twice in the dark!" I concluded and we got up to finish our hike to the depot. It was a beautiful night, cool, breezy, crickets chirping in another country. The depot had white lights strung up on the roof and looked like some dilapidated pioneer barn. With lights.
We got our tickets to the castle, the next "train" left in 5 minutes, so we hurried along. As we turned down the hall to the boarding area the last people were getting on and the "conductor" was claiming "doors are closing". We ran up to it as it was pulling away and I tried to swing a door open as it picked up speed. Just then a man in jean shorts and no shirt walked up from behind us and asked to see our itinerary. I dug it out of my purse and gave it to him. He grunted, smiled, and walked through some doors in the back of the room, shutting them behind him. When I glance down at the paper, wondering what was so amusing, I saw that I had written in red pen next to this train "NO". I was shocked. I didn't have a red pen when I was coping this down, but it was in my handwriting. I asked Frank if he had seen it and he claimed he found it odd that I had written it when he had looked at it earlier. Befuddled we sat on the benches and waited for the next car. 30 minutes later I walked back to the front counter to inquire about the next train. There was no one there, I searched, calling out "anyone there?" and the place was empty. Frank came up after hearing my yelling and I decided we were just going to leave. I was creeped out. A little weirded out himself, Frank and I headed back to the canyon. Being paranoid now, I kept hearing noises and insisted we walk faster. The flashlights were dollar specials and didn't do a whole lot of "lighting", more targeting our location than anything else. The rocks were really tearing up my feet now and I realised as we neared the exit that I was panicking. Frank shushed me and we could hear little rocks still falling behind us. "There is someone back there" Frank finally admitted. We were on the last few boulders out of the canyon in less than a minute and sprinting now. As we rounded the picnic area my flip flop broke and Frank hissed "I can't find the keys!" When we got to the car we huddled, crouched down on the driver's side and listened. I couldn't hear anything over my own breathing and heart pounding, and searched my purse for the extra key. "I've got it!" I yelped as I heard someone on the stone lot. We scrambled into the car, me in the back, him driving and whipped out of the spot, hitting something with a thud. We drove back towards the Inn and debated what to report if anything, I mean, we hadn't actually seen anyone and didn't know their intent. Just then the car started driving funny and Frank said "We have something stuck to the car!" We drove the rest of the way swerving back and forth until whatever it was finally came off. When we got to the Inn we locked up and ran inside to call the police. We stayed inside until we say the lights of the patrol car and then hurried out to meet them. It wasn't until the police wanted to see the car that we noticed it was dented and bloodied...
Later Tuesday June 20th
After a lovely lunch, though quiet I had come to the conclusion that a group of young adults had been gallivanting around and one of the boys threw a girls flip flop out of the window as they were leaving the castle. That, dear Watson is what must have happened. Young love. With that I looked over at Gilbert and smugly thought, those kids will one day grow old like good ol' Bert here. Gilbert caught me staring at him and mistook the look for let's go. He grabbed up the picnic basket and said to go ahead and start up the machine, which was a description of how I walk before my knees limber up again, he'd catch up. He had put the basket in the car and meet up with me 100 feet from where we'd sat and said "How do you reckon we'll make it up that?". I was so busy watching my step that I didn't see the path was covered with falling boulders. "Well craps almighty!" I exclaimed "That really busts my buttons!". No signs or nothing indicating that the park was closed. In fact there weren't any people bustling about now that I actually took it all in. "No point in standing here watching the crickets jump, let's head on out" Gilbert exclaimed. Probably secretly thrilled at the idea of knocking a few hours off the trip. So we shuffled back to the car. "What did you hit Gil?" His face got red and before he was able to get out a defensive retort I had pulled the yellow banner off the hood. Whipping my glasses off my blouse I read "CRIME SCENE" several times across the banner. "By George Gilbert! Someone was killed here and we disturbed the evidence!" Mumbling, Gilbert took the banner and came to the same conclusion "best be heading out then" he added and we climbed aboard. Gilbert pulled out of there with a little more gusto than necessary while I looked at the map for a local sheriff department. I bantered that we should at least let them know we meant no harm. Gilbert said we were NOT stopping, we had a vacation to finish and we were going to do just that! We settled for stopping at the Loch side Inn. mostly because Gilbert needed to use the facilities and I refused to sit through that stench in the car. Again, parking was a nightmare and 15 minutes later we were walking towards the front door. Gilbert went his way and I confessed everything to the desk manager. She said the murderers had actually eaten at that very restaurant the previous day and for a small charge we could sit at their table. "Lord have mercy" I exclaimed, "what happened?" I guess a couple had gotten spooked and backed over someone, they had been taken away in the police cruiser. When Gilbert came out I explained everything and we went directly home. I would wait another 30 years before going on vacation if I had to deal with a bunch of hoodlums!
THE REBEL SOLES by Lamommasita
Have you ever wondered why there is just one shoe along the roadside, in a ditch, at the beach or in a parking lot? Are there individuals somewhere out there carrying on their lives with only one foot shoed. At any given time did a passenger in a moving vehicle just randomly put down the window and decided to see if their shoe could keep up with them, either by flying or taking off running beside the vehicle? Then when they realized their hypotheses hadn't been well thought out; are they too embarrassed to ask the driver to turn around to retrieve their bruised up shoe. How and why are all these different sizes, shapes, and brands out there in the elements and their owners or mates aren't out there rescuing them. Well after many hours of research and interviews the questions have been somewhat answered if you believe the explanations.
Before we begin let me introduce myself. My name is Lil Shoehorn and I'm a freelance writer. I am originally from the great state of Illinois but I go wherever there's a story to be told. Around the circuit I'm known to be the one that can wiggle my way into an interview and slip out with a story that other reporters would never have seen news worthy. Some of the shoes, flip flops, boots, tennies didn't want to talk to me at first but with a little coaxing I got them to come around. It seems as if the footwear world has it's share of rebels. So without further delay lets get to the interviews so you can understand a little bit more of what you have been seeing.
Ms Fancy was spotted in the theater district in downtown Atlanta. She is a thin single-strap, 4" spike high heel, striking red patent leather with a shy demeanor. We decided to meet at a quaint little tea shop for the interview.
"Welcome Ms Fancy, is it alright to address you as Ms Fancy or would you like me to address you in some other manner?" I asked as to open up the conversation.
"Oh please call me Ms Fancy, my daddy always called me that and I am taken up by that name. My daddy was a wanderer I have always been told" She replied with a tense smile and sipped some tea.
Man...I felt like a used tea bag in a dirty coffee cup next to her. "Please tell my why you are not with your mirrored image or with a wearer instead out here by yourself." I asked pointedly.
"Well I just couldn't take it any longer in that dreadful one room box. The Wearer had 76 boxes and each box was assigned to an outfit. My mirror image and I were assigned to a short, sateen, red cocktail dress. If the Wearer didn't want to don the dress we remained in that prison box. I must have some of my daddy's leather genes in me because I began to plot my way out of there. I just hatred that dark, dark place." Ms Fancy dotted the corner of her eyes and took another sip of tea. "I'm sorry for that weak moment I won't let it happen again." "Take your time," I tried to comfort her and had a spot of tea myself.
"I'm better" she said after a substantial pause and continued. "My Wearer and her husband had a fun raiser to attend out of town. She packed our assigned dress so we had some freedom ahead of us. Yes this is when I put my escape into effect. When she was packing to come home she accidentally set me on the edge of the bed. While she was in the other room I slid off the covers and hid behind the bunched up comforter. Here I am today a wiser and happier red patent leather. I have experienced a wonderful life and have never wanted to walk back."
Our next guest is a robust, tooled, brown, cowhide leather cowboy boot which naturally wants me to call him Rex Tex or just Tex. We meet at a local barbecue diner for a beer in Kidder, S.D.
"Good evening Mr. Tex, thank you for meeting me here." I greeted him as he waited for me to take my seat.
"Good even'n Mam" he said with that southern draw and a welcoming smile.
"Would you like to tell me your story and how in the world you ended up here in South Dakota?" I coaxed him to stop drinking and start talking.
" Well ya I wreck'n I mize well get started here before dem routies gets too loud at da bar & you can't hear me" he said in his slow manner as he leaned back in his chair and tossed me a wink.
Wow what a charmer! Well back to the questions before I forget why I'm here.
"Yep I was just like any other cow boot in Texas but I wanted to see this here beautiful countree of hours. Ya can't blame a guy for just pick'n up & move'n on now can ya. Hell I got tired of that same old shit. Day in and day out stepping in horse shit, cattle shit and taken shit from the foremen. So one day I just jumped out the back of de horse trailer Here I am enjoy'n the good ol' life out here under da stars like my ancestors." With that Tex downed another beer. Tex was proud of his heritage and continued to talk about everything unrelated to my topic. Hard as I tried Tex kept veering away from the subject. He had several more beers and became one of the routies before the night was over. I bid him good night and left him with his buddies.
There are so many footwear rebels but we are "running" out of time so I will share with you one more story. No the running used previously was not an accident. Our next guest is a man-made upper done in navy and yellow with leather tread. He is a running shoe called Tenny.
"Well how are you doing this beautiful morning Tenny?" I greeted him as he entered the park near the duck pond in lower New York City. Tenny was without laces and seemed to be enjoy the cool breeze.
"Yo Babe you got somethin hot going on there girl" Tenny did some groovin' moves as he slid over next to me. "Yeah yous and me could get somethin goin' girl"
"Tenny I'm glad you could break away for this interview and answer some questions for me." I tried to keep him at shoelace distance but this dude was really full of himself. " Now tell me why you decided to live on the streets and not with your Wearer."
"Well it's like dis Hot Stuf, how in the world could a star stud like me be stuck with just one Wearer. Get real...I belongs to da world. I enjoys my laces lose & fancy foot free life. I don'ts have to ant sirs to no one and can be where ever I wants to be when I wants to be, dog. Me and my homies gots da life and the rest of da footies just keeps follow sum body elses rules. Hell day can't even decide if day want to have dem fat o' sticky feets in dem all day. Day can't even have a freakin' day off. That ain't da life for me. Me was made for playin' Baby and dat is whats me's gone ah do. Now if yous don't mine, I gots to be chillin' with sum bros n shoots sum hoops." Tenny no more than finished the last word and took off. I didnt' even get a chance to ask him how he made it to the streets.
I have interviewed millions of loners or Rebels, as they prefer to be called, and found out some of their rules for survival. If you recall you never see a Rebel in the upright postion. This isn't an accident. If a vehicle or human is within a mile radius they lay down. They have picked this tactic up from the opposum clan. Now if they are going to rest they usually do this in a secluded area but sometimes the route they are on is too busy and they can't take the risk of being seen moving. So the weary traveler will just lie down in his tracks. Whatever you do...don't touch a Rebel! They fear being taken back to the life they walked away from and they will kick and thamp and then walk all over you. Now think about it....is it worth your reputation. Do you really think anyone is going to believe a shoe with no Wearer could do that to you!
Thank you for letting me slip into your lives and remember the club motto of these Rebel Soles. "You can only feel like a Heel if you don't follow your Sole!" Until next time.....Good Night....Lil Shoehorn.
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