HOWARD: PHWWWOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRR Dill pickles. I love dill pickles. Be still saliva glands!

I picked up & put down grumpy old men at the video shop about 400 times. Now I'm not going to borrow it coz you gave away the end. Part of it anyway. ;-^ (that's s'posed to be tongue in cheek.)

MARY -- The pickles are crock-cured garlic dills -- not too sour, but with a bit of heat. I've been fiddling with the receipt, and got a bit too much red pepper in the mix to suit my wife.

THe virus seems to be gone. I ran the fix for it, and it indicated no infection. It only affected MS Outlook Express and MSIE Newsgroup Reader, so I guess it wasn't as bad as I first thought it was.

HEATHER -- I've got that same book around here somewhere!

Anybody remember the movie "Grumpy Old Men?" The one-liners they ran during the credits at the end were hilarious! One I remember specifically -- "It's time to take old one-eye to the optometrist!"
Going farther back, remember the movie "Porky's?" The scene where Miss Bolbrecher confronts the principal and the coach about the incident involving the peep-hole in the girls' shower room was rib-cracking funny! Especially the part where they went into hysterics over Tommy's "Tallywhacker!" Even Ike's picture developed a grin!

The new computer is almost finished (I hope) and I'm busily backing up the data on this one.

seeya

HEATHER: I've had poetry, newspaper articles and letters published before, but this will be my first short story. It feels like a stepping stone to the big 'NOVEL'.
One of the reasons (I think) that I'm not feeling very excited about it is that I can't tell anyone, except you guys, coz what if it doesn't get published.
So, it's sort of like winning the lotto, but not being able to tell anybody.
Frustrating!

I know you've been around, but you haven't seemed to be your usual happy self, that's all. I'm glad to see the old (young) HEATHER back. :-)

Now, back on your head!

Teekay; wait until you see your name and your work in print - the thrill is incredible! I thought it was something the first time I printed out the first chapter of my novel, long ago now, or the first little poem of mine being printed in a local collection. Well, that Writer's Digest article and the poem in the Library of Poetry anthology were quite the good score on the richter 'excitement' scale. I can't think about what it will be like when... uh, too thrilling entirely!

Heather :o)

I wasn't really away, just busy, and lurking on occasion.

Americo is expecting my novel to be completed in less than a month! Ulp. Back on my head...

Thanks guys, for all your support and encouragement, but as yet I feel strangely unexcited by it all. No, I'm not usually a pessimist, but I guess anything could happen 'tween now and October and it just isn't real till it's real. :-)

HEATHER: I'm really glad you enjoyed my shorty. Thanks.
Welcome back, I've missed you. :-)

RRRRRAMON: Yes, sometimes we call it a third leg. One you could tie a broom to & sweep under the table with, if you wanted to brag. HAHAHAHA.
You know what I'm talking about.

Going.

I did leave instructions for all of you to wash after reading my posts.


Remember?


I hope you all get well soon.

TEEKAY: YYYYYIIIIPPPPEEEE!!!!! YOU GO GIRLIE!!! That's so exciting!

Hallee

Teekay, AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Published AND you're getting paid for it!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOO WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! (Clap clap clap applause) I'm bleepin' well excited FOR you, you silly! Get out there and celebrate! YOU DESERVE IT! :) :) :)

Howard, Hope your computer gets well soon.
Hallee, Woo woo! Aaoooogah! Nice shortie.

Rosemary, *sniff* Sad shortie. I hope the puppy went to a good home.

Richard, Thanks for the 'day in the life of ...' shortie. I enjoyed it!


Barnabas, I think marriage is heaps easier than being single! I love love it.
Real nice what you said about everyone's shorties, considering the source. Oh well.

Kru, I agree with you 100% about pet stores. The only pets we ever had either found us and needed a home, or were given to us. My sister bought a gorgeous white lab from a pet store and he was a complete spaz and pretty darn stupid. My favorite dog was a stray. His name was Barney and I still miss him.

Jerry, HI! I really enjoyed your post, and I think it's great that you're writing a book!

Heather, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHa!!!!!!!!!!! I needed that, mate! The whole house is sick (including me) and I haven't laughed in quite some time. I think we caught it from Debra's family. :)

Mary, Too bad, I was looking forward to your shortie. :(

Wish I had more time, but gotta go blow my nose and then blow my son's nose. ;)

Christi

Manoeuvre: the egg that ate Manhattan. Now there is a horror story. RICHARD!!! You know I am just kidding, right? I don't want to get into a language argument because there aren't very many people who could massacre any language as well as USians. Just ask Americo...he knows.

How about manooover?

Hey, it's phonetic - sort of.

I know, but it resets the document template each time you start up Word, despite explicit instruction NOT to do so.

Maneuver - take it literally and you get the pronunciation wrong (ManUVER - ManOUVER). Manoeuvre looks cool anyway :p

Well I haven't laughed this hard in a very long time. Meat whistle? Oh my.

Hop and Richard: You do know that you can change the language settings in your word processor don't you? If you use Word it is under Tools; Language. I had to switch mine over when I was critiquing Tina's novel because my spell checker kept wanting to change all of her centres to centers. By the way, manoeuvre doesn't even look right. Too many vowels. Makes me think of eggs(fr). Maneuver is definitely better.

ALLEIN: I tried to get the Japanese font at Microsoft, but their site is acting up...will go back later and try again.

HOWARD: I don't remember seeing whether you answered me or not about your pickles. Are they sweet or dill? That is a legitimate question, not a pass, just in case you were wondering with all the talk about gherkins lately.

Speaking of gherkins, again, excellent passion shorties everyone. JERRY, you didn't surprise me too much, although I did think at first that you were referring to a horse. DEBRA, I like the longer version of your story much better than the version Hop requested.

HEATHER: My shortie got a little too graphic to want to share. I don't know when to stop, so it is best not to start. I should have written about someone else's passion then I could have posted it. Ah well, there is still next week.

Farewell to one and all.

LITTER: So sorry not to see a shortie from you this week. Sincerely. ;-)

To be sure, Jerry, there are at least 400 more words for it, at least in my book.

Heather :o)

Teekay, I REALLY enjoyed your new addition to P**! WONDERFUL!

Phantasium is humming and tingling right along.
I still haven't finished my ghostie, and might chuck the idea and start afresh. I am too busy with my novel right now to spend the time on it that it needs.

So that's the long and the short of it... (uh, bad joke, after my last post! Hope it was educational)

Heather

I have here a very interesting little book, called
'The Bald-Headed Hermit & The Artichoke, An Erotic Thesaurus', compiled by A.D. Peterkin.

Let's see... Under 'buttocks' there are quite an array of amusing words... (I looked them up on a hunch that 'sweet fanny adams' might be under that heading)
BUTTOCKS:
There's ampersand, arm cheeks, assterior (nice one), the basement, blind cupid, bogy, bootie, bucket, caboose, chuff, clunes, crumpet, cupcakes, dinger, dish, double jug, duff, duster, fanny, flankey, gazonga, glutes, hams, Hugh Jass, hunkers, kazoo, moon, mudflaps (MUDFLAPS? UGH!)
North Pole, oil bags, paddies, parking spot, pooper, pressed ham, rumble seat, rusty dusty, spread, sugar cookies, tail, toosh...

AND I picked only a few from the huge list of nicknames and pet names for the arse!

Let's see about the penis. I'm SURE there will be a fabulous array of zingers there....
There are eight pages of nicknames for the penis, but somehow I'm not surprised:
(I'll pick just a few) Anteater, bagpipes, bald-headed hermit, battering ram, bayonet, bazooka, big foot Joe, blue-veined custard chucker (or blue-veined hooligan), cannon, Captain Picard (HA HA HA HA HA!), carnal stump, charger, cherry-splitter, dart meat, diving rod, dohicky, dingus, drumstick, eel, eggwhite cannon, fanny ferret, flapdoodle, foreman, friga-ma-jig, gap-stopper, gherkin (after the pickle?), guided missle, gully-raker, Hampton Wick, honey-pot cleaver, horn hose, ice-cream machine, Irish root, jiggle bone, joy prong, ladies' lolipop, Little Elvis, love's lock-pick, Master John Thursday, maypole, meat whistle, milk bone, Nebuchadnezzar, OLD ADAM, old blind bob, Old Faithful, pile-driver (ouch); pen, pendulum, pink oboe, plonker (aha!) pondsnipe, pork sword, tonsil tickler, quim-wedge, radish, reamer, red rooster, Roto-rooter, schnitzel, Sir John T. Talliwacker, skyscraper, Sleeping Beauty, and the list keeps on.

Whew, that was a fun trip. And you wonder why I'm too shy to write about passion? Because that's completely different to me; it's not simply sex. And it's very personal!!!

So I'll just share with you the funny numbers in the book and blush myself into vertigo.

Oh, and here's one that I thought rude but funny: a feminine napkin is sometimes called 'dracula's teabag'!

Yikes, time to go...

Heather

Kru - I can understand your feelings about puppy mills, I detest such things myself, but, if we all boycott them, and get our puppies from say, an animal shelter, or a friend, then who will free those tortured puppies in the window? Oh and for the record, Renn was freed from the animal shelter in Fargo ND by my daughter many years ago. He came to our house to stay for a week and never went home. Strange how that works, I was sure I told my wife no more dogs, after our blue healer Lady had a stroke and had to be put down. Oh and Lady was also freed from the local pound way back when I was a cop, the chief told me there was a dog in the pound that was to be shot on my shift, I went to get her and take her out to the dump grounds where we did our executions, but when I opened the dutch door to the pound, she jumped up and licked me on the face. Who could shoot a dog when she does that, so I took her and her six puppies home that night, we gave the puppies away and had Lady for nearly seventeen years when she stroked out. It was possibly the hardest thing I ever did when I took her out to the vet and had her put to sleep, but she was paralyzed and could no longer recognize us, so it was the kindest thing I could do for her.

RRRRRRRamon - ok, a polonker, but you may not know all the names we here in the states have for the same thing, there are many, some are local dialect, others well known by all - they include but are not limited to - Johnson, the one eyed monster - prick - pecker - joint - peter - dick - cock - dink - short arm - third leg - love stick - dip stick (ie - get some lip stick on your dip stick), and I am sure there are about a hundred more.

Sweet Fanny Adams - maybe our translation would be "you bet your sweet ass"

Hop - you do understand that the short-shorties are a sort of spur of the moment stories, not stories that we spend hours writing, but those we whip out many times right there in the text box of the notebook, don't you?


Teekay - great news, congratulations, you must be so proud, I know should one of mine be selected for publications, I would be hard pressed not to pop a few buttons on my shirt.

Allien, we would have to install the Japanese text in our browsers to be able to read your text. It is available for free download from Microsoft.

These shorties just keep getting better and better, a reflection on the tremendous talent available here.


Ok, now don't anyone take this wrong, I know I promised no more politics, but am I the only one who is getting very tired of hearing of former President Clinton's deeds? Enough is enough already, lets just get on with the running of our nation, let Clinton live his life, and we can live ours.

Oh my ghost story took a break, but I will return to working on it tonight, these past few days have been bad ones for my back, and I have been hitting the pain killers all day long, a situation that I hate but must live with, it is a bit better today, and if I take it easy, I should be able to forego the drugs and be able to continue the story, so far in five pages, I have yet to put my characters in the house yet.

Well it appears I am writing a book so I will shut up and let someone else up on their soap box.

Jerry

Baranbas:

I can shorten that.

Tim sent her flowers. They were pretty. She bought him shorts and thanked him. End. How's that?

There is nothing wrong with black hair. I would just like to see what it would be like to be blond for a little while.

Debra

RRRRRRRamon! You can decide for yourself whether they are any good or not if you follow the link above. You will either love them or hate them. I don't like everything they do, but they have their good points. I like their enunciation, but some of their earlier stuff sounds like haunted house music.

Back in a few.

Hallee – Pretty heady stuff there in your shorty.

Rosemary – That was a sweet story. BUT..
GROUP – Does everyone know not to buy puppies in pet shops? Almost 100% of the time they come from places called “puppy mills” and they are horrible places. Dogs are kept in tiny wire bottomed cages and they are nothing but breeding machines. The owners, I will not call them breeders, do the absolute minimum to keep the dogs alive and to make sure they have AKC registration papers. They get no love and affection, no veterinary care and the cheapest food money can buy. Please, if you are going to get a new puppy go to a breeder. You will get a better puppy, a healthier puppy and you will not support those cruel, horrible places. I will be happy to use my resources to help anyone get in touch with a good breeder of any breed. You all have my Email address, write to me privately. OK, I’ll get off the soapbox. Sorry about that, it’s a pet peeve.

Richard – Reading your story of a high school day reminded me so much of my own high school days it was only different because of the obvious age difference. When I went to high school they had not yet invented hand held calculators, let alone computers. High school for me was a passionless time too. BTW, I have been amused by the differences between English and American too.

Teekay – Well, congratulations and good luck!

RRRRamon – Yes, before I got sick I was very competitive. We called it Killer Badminton, played full court, one on one and to get away from a game without skinned knees etc. was not to play it “right.”

HMMMMM my slang word seems to have everybody at a loss, I thought it might. The guys will appreciate this; a plonker is another word for a certain male organ, because you just plonk it on the table (or whatever) Plonk means to place or put down on a surface. I was wrong its not a sound. No doubt some people will be offended by that. New slang for today is "SWEET FANNY ADAMS" Any ideas?

MARY: The only Portishead I've heard of is a crummy little beach town here in Bristol. I went there once and never returned. Are they any good?

HOP: I read your comments on the notebook. You're not the only one who picked up on that paragraph. Teekay didn't believe it belonged there either. As I told her there I got the idea when I was reading HANNIBAL. Thomas Harris the author kept doing something similar and so I thought I'd try it. Of course I did have my reservations. Thanks for the tips though.

RICHARD: I know what you mean about American English or English American, although I don't find it annoying mate, I 've just gotten used to it. I think between you and me we can educate the world in the use of ENGLISH ENGLISH. I am doing a thing on English Slang that seems to have them a little stumped.

HALLEE: Sorry but under the covers passion does nothing for me unless I am a participant. It was a good Idea you stopped where you did because I think there are some youngsters online who may be getting some ideas. Still I did get the sense of passion from your piece so Kudos to you for the effort. Be interested to know how a man would write that. On second thoughts.............

KRU: A badminton player huh? My father and I don't play regular badminton we play what I describe as "Braveheart badminton" lots of cursing, aching joints, the flow of blood and my father throwing his racket around in fits of fury and me laughing. Hey we're mad what can I say. Glad you liked it.

Take Care & TTFN all.

Trudy
Hello, I don't believe we've met.

Everyone
With all the misspellings and grammar problems it's obvious people aren't lying about
their headaches.
I'm not going to comment on the shorties or write one for that matter. Pointless and futile.

Teekay
I do check the message board everyday though.

Renovations? Revelations maybe?
You're obviously having a mid-life crisis. What with the "I wish I was' parts.

Ramon (I'm going omit all those R's to save my fingers some repetitive typing)
Ah ha! Dialect tip!
Two people whacking white things at each other. Got to love the weird and wonderful world of sport.

I left a few comments on your story. It's okay I guess. But it isn't the sort of story I
usually read so I can't be too definite.

Debra
That was short.
What's wrong with black hair?

Christi
If only it were that easy to hold a marriage together....

Read your comments. The story is an analogy as you know.

A thought
Interestingly enough, most of the stories I write are confusing to people. Should I
continue the air of suspense or be a bit more obvious? I keep wrestling with this all the
time comments anyone? Does this make my writing intriguing where people want to
read more or just really really annoying?

Back to Christi
In fact the fishermen aren't human. They're extremely advanced alien scientists on a
mission to weigh and observe the fish who are in fact the races of different planets.
They're so smart that compared to them, humans and other races are like fish compared
to humans. The sentence "If they are intelligent, they must have a very primitive
intelligence. If they aren't, they must be very smart animals" is therefore crucial because
it shows one such fisherman's viewpoint about the "fish."

What I suggest about the fishing rod is that as the fishing rod is a primitive tool to us
(comparatively, I know the fisher men here in the notebook will start describing just how
complicated the modern fishing rod is) so is the technology used to catch the fish. To us
it would seem wonderous (e.g. teleportation, memory erasure) but to them it is but at the
bottom of the techno ladder like fire or the wheel.

As why not scan, I'm sure even advanced beings sometimes enjoy just doing things
themselves (remember they may be more advanced but in a different way). It's a little bit
boring looking at numbers all day long.

It's a job the narrator likes that's all.

Laura
Read your short story. I'm impressed (note: on my scale okay means it's a good story,
impressed would therefore be much better). I left my comments in the critique area.

No one can see my Japanese...phooey. Oh well.

Teekay - CONGRATS!! Let's celebrate!! :)

*smiles*
Allein

TEEKAY! That's incredible news! Congratulations!!!!
I think that's great. Try not to worry about things - I'm sure your story will make it in, and all will be well.(((Hugs))) Can't wait to read the ghostie!

*still blushing from my last post*
Heather

Your shorties are all wonderful!
I am still relishing the afterglow from yesterday but am not ready to spill the beans. I think I'm too shy to write about romance and passion!
Can you believe it?

*blush*!

Heather

BLACK BILL: Well DUH! I was only poking around. :-). I know it's really restorations.

Well I'm not going to get too excited just yet, bu-u-ut today in the mail I received a letter saying one of my short stories I'd sent out has been short listed. They are looking at publishing it around October.

I'll wait till I have the $400:00 dollars in my sweaty little fist and the story actually in the magazine before I get excited.

Hope they don't go broke and close up shop.

Please forgive me for not writing a Thursday shorty, I've just finished typing out my latest ghost story (the one I'm not real sure about) and I'm really sick of thinking right now. It's in the workbook BTW.

Okay going to catch up on the notebbok. Read all the shorties and the longies.

Be good all.

Howard - WOW, I have heard of the Kak virus, my son had it on his machine, but it never invaded mine. Horrible things these viruses, someone should take care of those who loosen those horrid little bugs in our friendly network.

I have heard of hundreds of ways to cleanse a machine, but my God man, don't sterilize yourself in the battle!

Jerry

Figured I may as well come back here and read through the shorties while the virus scanner runs. Will post mine when I am through all the great ones here already.

HOWARD: Oh, my....I gotta go check. Hugs and good luck, but I don't exactly know if I would wish sterility on you. ;-)

ALLIEN,
The last time I saw written Japaenese, it didn't looke like little squares all in a row. (could be my computer doesn't speak the language.)

HALLIE,
Wheeeww, I think you set off alarms across the world. Very visual. Excellent. You could have a job at that place MARY turned down. (I think it was Mary?)


Gone for now,
Rosemary

Opps, wrong set of HTML tags...

Allein, all I see is a set of boxes. You can probably see them as Japanese because you've got the fonts installed or whatever.

As a matter of interest, I assume to can see pound signs like this: £ over there?

And I wish WORD wouldn't keep doing English: American. There is no such thing as American English, and manoeuvre is not spelt maneuver! Its defence not defense (the c looks cooler, so there!) And all these annoying Zs replacing the proper letters...

Opps, er, sorry 'bout that...

[b]Out of Time[/b]

Tired. Wasted. Cold. Wanted sleep.

The bedside lamp was still on, as it had been at one o'clock in the morning. [i]To Kill a Mocking Bird[/i] was spread open atop the table to keep the page - I could never be bothered to find a bookmark. To do so would have required me to leave the warmth of the thick quilts and expend energy that I did not possess at such an hour.

I had woken up, simply because I was trained to wake at this time. School - boring, endless routine - I might have been a programmed drone. After listening to the familiar sounds of my family going down to breakfast, I reluctantly rose and threw on my blue dressing gown, fastening the cord around my waste. Several strange, jumbled thoughts entered my consciousness like remnants of a forgotten dream, and I shook my head to clear them.

The alarm clock must've gone off at six, like I had set it too. I imagined I'd stayed awake only long enough to switch it off. Bummer. I was supposed to get up an hour early to write... now it was seven, and the next hour would be spent eating and getting ready for a long and torturous day at school...

With a groan, I stumbled to the tall chest of draws and picked up my glasses. Coloured blurs came into focus and gained edges. I'd put my contacts in after breakfast.

***

The sky was grey, as usual, and the crop field was particulary muddy. Globs of brown kept sticking to my shoes and making a right mess of them. I didn't mind; I had to pass through another field, and the water on the grass stalks would clean it off before I reached the shopping centre.

Something about the crisp air invigorated me despite the gloom. There was something strangely bueatiful about the golden halos of the street lamps, glowing powerfully in the light mist, masked by lines of trees and open fields. As I marched, I allowed my thoughts to wander, connecting words, ideas and themes, following whatever paths of thought I came up upon. Occasionally I would think of something I had to write about, and reach down into the pocket of my black trouser legs for the slim green notepad I kept there. Usually though, I had to remember these ideas, because I didn't have a pen or pencil to hand.

Even as I approached the road that seperated the fields from the shopping centre, I continued to appreciate the ethereal bueaty of the morning. Everything seemed so sharp, so clear - unlike most of the day, which to me seemed to pass in a blur. React, experience, react, illicitate, observe, react... Soon, I knew, I'd be joining the main column of pupils headed for High School, and my thoughts would be drowned by the melachony of another day in the jug.

***

Back in my room, after a long day of school, I took out my green notepad and began to write. Notes, observations - analysis of my own behavior. I had only just started to do this, and wanted to keep it up. I found recognising why I did what I did to be most valuable, both for my understanding of life in general, and my writing. Single words and sentances that could mean absolutely nothing to anyone but me went down on those thin slips of paper. Whenever somebody got a hold of it and looked through it in school, I always felt uneasy about it. It wasn't private exactly, but I knew how a high school pupil could twist whatever he saw or heard.

School left me physically and mentally drained, like a dried vegetable. I would slog through my homework, play on my computer... but I lacked the will to engage in any writing. I felt as though all my creative juices had been drawn off or exhausted beyond use. School always had that effect on me. The worst part was I knew it was my own fault. I stayed up reading so late. But it was the only chance I got to read. Thus I denied myself the sleep I needed to rise early, thus I became fatigued by the end of the day... it seemed like some sort of cruel, vicious circle.

It was half past ten when Dad finally sent me up, having been posting on a multitude of message boards and then flicking back and forth to see who was posting at the same time...

Flopping onto the matress, I could feel the aching in my limbs, the fatigue.

I flicked on the lamp and reached for my book...


There you go... a close approximation of 'A Day in the Life of Richard Scott'. Er... it's now one o'clock in the morning here in Britain, so there's some proof its the truth. Lucky its the holidays. I'm off to finish 'To Kill a Mocking Bird'...

AAAAARRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!!! I've been infected! Litter said that a mail I sent him triggered his antivirus program, so I checked, and sure enough, it's the Wscript.KakWorm - a worm that takes advantage of a known bug in Microsoft Outlook Express. Dunno when I got it, but it's in there now!
So anyone who's received any Email from me in the past couple of weeks please run your virus scanners!
I'll not be sending any more email until sterile.
howard

IT WORKS!!! COOLNESS!!
すごい！！

Evening all,

Hope my shortie gives you all a chance to catch your collective breath.

UNREQUITED PASSION

"Steph. What am I going to do? I've just got to have him." Liz gripped her frosted glass of tea, slowly moving it in a circle.

"Honey, we can't always have what we want. Sometimes we have to settle for second best." Stephanie's big brown eyes were soft with concern for her friend.

Liz jumped and her glass sloshed icy tea across her hand. "There's a way to get him, I know it. I just haven't figured it out yet." She jumped again.

"Great, now you've agonized yourself into the hiccups." Steph signaled to the waitress. "A glass of water plese."

Tears ran down liz's cheeks then flew away with the next hiccup. "What if I said. . ." She shook her head. "What could I say that would make any difference?" She moaned. "I don't think I can go on without him."

Steph took a deep breath. "Let's go. Maybe after you've been away from him for a while, it'll get easier." She glanced across the food court in his direction.

Liz looked horrified. "You expect me to leave him here? Strangers will talk to him and touch him." Her mouth gaped in horror at the vision in her mind.

Steph stood up and slid her purse straps over her shoulder. "Sweetie, you don't have a choice. Now let's go." She put her hand under Liz's arm and pulled her to her feet.

"OK, but I've got to see him just one more time. Let's go this way." The two young women slowly walked across the court and stood looking in. In the window, a sad puppy gazed up at them. The SOLD sign partially blocked their vision of him.
END

私 の 名前 は アライン です.

Just seeing if I can write Japanese here. :) I got a new toy - Japanese word processor. :)
Allein

Hey People!
I gave my dog a bath today - and almost got one myself. Pepper wasn't exactly thrilled about it. She shook the water off and when we tried to get her to go in the bathroom, she wouldn't go in 'cause she knew what was coming. But, she was a fairly good dog and she got a doggie treat for it.
I have no short story about passion. :(
*smiles*
Allein

Bummer. (joking...)

Ohh... I gotta think of something... anyone written about their writing life yet... hmmm...

*hits himself over the head and scurries off into a corner to think*

Hallee:

I think you finished what I started.

Debra

"PASSION SHORTY SHORT"

He crossed the threshold of his room and made it to the bed just as he felt like he couldn’t hold the strength in his legs any longer. He wanted to move fast, to rip the clothes off of her and bury himself deep inside of her, but he stamped those instincts, fought that drive and laid her gently on his bed.

She kept her arms wrapped around his neck, and he slowly eased down beside her, moving his lips from her mouth to her neck. She gasped and turned her head, giving him full access to the smooth column. Her spicy scent assailed his senses as he tasted her skin. He raised himself on one elbow as he worked his way back to her mouth and ran his other hand along her side, tugged her shirt from the waistband of her pants.

She moaned into his mouth as his teeth nipped her lip and his hand slowly moved up the path of her rib cage and found her breast. Her back arched and her stomach muscles clenched in response. Part of her wanted to rip her mouth from his and scream at him to hurry, that she couldn’t take it anymore. The other part relished in the gentleness, in the tenderness that was in every kiss, every stroke. Her arms were suddenly too heavy to keep their grip and they slowly fell to her sides.

Bit by agonizing bit her shirt was opened. He teased her as each button was released, stroking the newly exposed skin, sending sensations through her she didn’t know existed. Finally, his fingers completed their task and he slowly spread her shirt open, slowly traced the outline of her bra with the tip of his finger. She gasped as shivers were sent through her body, arched her back to meet his touch...

I, ah, believe I'll stop there. This is a family forum.

Hallee

Christi:

I blame myself for your thinking she might have been poisoned. I did try to scare the pants off of you last week with the dogs.

Debra

Christi and Debra, Thank you so much. That one was easy for me I live it. She just got home, it's time to get off the net.

Christi, It has been so long since anyone called me shorty I don't mind in the least. If you could see me you would know how really funny it is. My feet reach all the way to the floor.

Mary, This was a really good choice for a topic, it looks like most of the list is going to get lucky. Thanks.

Christi and Debra, Thank you so much. That one was easy for me I live it. She just got home, it's time to get off the net.

Christi, It has been so long since anyone called me shorty I don't mind in the least. If you could see me you would know how really funny it is. My feet reach all the way to the floor.

Mary, This was a really good choice for a topic, it looks like most of the list is going to get lucky. Thanks.

Kru:

I liked yours. It seemed like we were privy to his thoughs instead of reading a story.


Christi:

Yes, similiar endings. I wonder. Just who is getting lucky? Maybe both our husbands are.

Debra

*GASP!* Oh my sides are aching with laughter. Oh Kru, I'm so sorry. What a difference a letter makes; there was supposed to be an r after the y-o-u. I don't know whether or not you're short and certainly don't know you well enough to say I love you! ;P

Kru, I LOVED you shortie! It seemed very real.

Tina, WELCOME BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m so glad to see you here again. Big giant squishy hugs for you.

Teekay, I hope you're feeling better and not so blue. Huggers.

Hallee, Hi!

Mary, Your old pediatrician should be shot! How awful your last few days must have been. I hope your kids are doing much better, as well at their parents. :) Catch up on some Zzzzzzs now, won’t you?

Jack, Thanks for saying that. I think it hit home with a lot of us.

Hi Ramon. Yes you are maaaaaaaad!
Love your idea for the British slang. I’ve no clue what that last one means.

Mark, I tried your bonding ritual and it worked great. My son thought it was hilarious and spent the rest of the afternoon doing it. :)

Jerry, Hahahaha. I thought it would be a car, not a gun!

Debra, For a frightening moment I thought she’d been poisoned when she inhaled the roses scent. I liked how everyone was taken to a new awareness of the color red by seeing the roses.
Our shorties have a similar ending. Strange.

Here's my passion-shortie. It was written in haste but it was all I could think of. Hmmm. Wonder why.

A Man of Valor

She couldn’t believe her ears. Her whole life she’d waited for this moment—this single moment in time. It had seemed an eternity, but now that it had happened she didn’t quite know how to handle it.

She rubbed her eyes to assure herself that it wasn’t a cruel dream, from which she’d awaken first eager, and then heftily disappointed.

But no, he was still there. Still seated across from her, a bewildered expression on his face.

Oh thank you God.

With hands shaking, and her entire body lit up with fiery passion, she asked if he would repeat himself. If he’d said what she’d thought, she was going to have a hard time keeping her hands off him. “What did you say, darling?” she asked as innocently as she could muster.

Avery looked over at the kids. “Your mother’s gone completely daffy.” Then he turned back and eyed her, one eyebrow lifted with a smirk gathering the corners of his mouth. He reached across the table for her hand—over sticky sweet potatoes and the leftover meatloaf carcass. “All I said was that I’d do the dishes.”

“Oooooh, yes!” Jennifer nearly passed out with rapture. A certain man in her life was going to get very lucky tonight.

The End


Hee! Could I possibly have written this because I've got a counter full of dishes?
I have the sneaking suspicion that someone here has written a shortie like this in the past. Am I imagining things? I hope so.


Off to clean,

Christi

Kru - I guess you are still a bit new here, those who know me the best would not be surprised, in fact I think they probably knew exactly what was coming, you see I am a retired police chief, who worked on the side as a gunsmith, I was also very active in pro-gun politics for many years.

Jerry

Hi Group, Here is my short shorty on passion. I wrote another but it was too long.
Debra - I like yours better.
Jerry - A rifle, I thought you were going for a car.
RRRamon - I know what you mean, I used to love that game too.

Passion

She lives life so fully, I envy that. Her dad drove sports cars in races and rallies and I guess there is some of that in her. She loves the same way she throws herself into it, completely immersed in the feelings of the moment. Making love with her is like getting lost in a warm, soft, gentle, loving cloud. It can be fast and hot and thrilling and over way to soon but the sensations linger hours later when I am at my desk miles away. Or it can take all evening and into the night with conversations and jokes interspersed with long soft wet kisses, eyes wide open. I can get lost in the immeasurable depth of those eyes. When she is gone I think about her and recall the feeling of her softness nestled under my arm and the special smell of her hair next to my face. I can’t believe we have been together 12 years it seems like 12 weeks. Passion has changed, matured but not dimmed.
Today we have a sudden snowstorm that moved in quickly and made the roads treacherous places to be. This is the kind of snow/ice storm that driving ability cannot transcend. When she left for work they said it might snow late this afternoon. I made a quick trip to the store about 9 AM and the storm hit when I was about half way there. Within 10 minutes of the onset the roads were covered. I spun out and for a few seconds lost control of the car coming out of the parking lot and the whole drive home was like riding on ball bearings. With my heart in my mouth and every muscle tense I made it to the driveway. She is one of those drivers that we hope stays off the roads when they are slick because she panics and over corrects and slams on the brakes.
It is times like this that I worry. What would I do without her? Would my life have any joy? Could I appreciate a sunny day? Can I live without her passion? I hope I never find out. I’ll be glad when she gets home.

RRRRRRRRRramon! Enigma???? Do you ever listen to Portishead?

Here's my shorty on passion.


Passion Flower

Audrey sat at her workstation finishing off her morning at the investment company she worked for.
“Audrey someone is here for you.” Nancy, Audrey’s supervisor, called over the top of her cubicle.
“He’s at the front desk.” Her smile spoke volumes to Audrey.
Audrey skipped happily towards the front desk. She had to go down two halls and through three doors, but it was worth it. There stood a tall man wearing a dark, blue uniform holding a long, white box. It could only mean one thing. Tim had sent flowers.
“Gosh are these for me?” Audrey already knew the answer as she held out her arms to receive the box.

When she got back to her desk, it only took seconds for a crowd of her coworkers to form around her.
“What’s the occasion Audrey?” Her supervisor asked without hesitation.
“It’s our one year anniversary, in two days.” Her huge smile made it hard to form the words.
Audrey was smiling so much her eyes were nearly closed.

“Hhhooo aaaaaaah,” came a collective response from the crowd around her as the box opened to reveal one dozen, long stem, red roses.
“I have a tall vase at my desk if you need it.” Called one of her coworkers near the rear of the crowd.
“Thank you.” Audrey turned her head towards the voice letting her know to get it.

The vase came quickly, stems were trimmed and the flowers were placed neatly into the water. The crowd fell silent admiring the beauty of the flowers.
“Audrey those are the most beautiful roses I have ever seen.” Audrey’s supervisor was the first to speak.
“I know. I was just thinking that.” Her closest cubicle neighbor in the back added.
“They are the TUREST RED I have ever laid my eyes on.” Her neighbor on the right joined in.
“It’s weird huh?” Audrey grinned as she stepped back to take in the color.
“Boy are you going to owe him big.” Her supervisor whispered in her ear with one hand on her shoulder.
Audrey turned in her direction and agreed with a just a glance.

As the afternoon wore on, the flowers started to open. No one could pass by her without stopping to ogle the red roses sitting proudly on her desk. As she was getting ready to finish her day, she stood in front of the flowers just looking in awe. She brushed her nose close to one flower and drank in the aroma.
“mmmmmm aroma therapy is real.” Thought Audrey as her heart responded beating slightly slower.
She slowly cupped her hand over the blossom and was surprised by the cool air permeating from it. Letting the weight of the flower rest in her hand she was stunned how heavy the pedals were. She stood mesmerized by the magnificent red pedals. The hand on her shoulder jolted Audrey out of her trance.
“I’m sorry Audrey.” Her supervisor apologized.” Looking at your flowers today, has made me notice something about red I never noticed before.” She spoke never taking her eye off the roses.

She continued not waiting for Audrey to respond. “This particular shade of red seems to have one function and that’s to create pleasure. I really never experienced anything like it before. In fact it has had a profound effect on me all day.” Her eyes fixed on the efflorescence of color.
“I will never look at red the same way again.” She walked away deep in her own thoughts not waiting for Audrey to even say a word.
Audrey couldn’t agree more. She had noticed the same thing. She couldn’t go home without something for her husband that was for sure. Picking up the phone, she called her best friend, Sheri and asked her to meet her at the mall for some assistance. Wrapping up one rose with some of the left over paper it came in, she brought it with her to show Sheri the brilliant red she has been hypnotized by all day. On the way to the mall, Audrey kept catching little glimpses of red. There were taillights and red lights and just plain red that kept popping up everywhere she looked. Once at the mall, Audrey found Sheri in her usual spot effortlessly.
“So what’s the emergency dear?” Sheri asked pleasantly. Her blond hair was blowing in the gently breeze under the parking garage.
Audrey unveiled the rose she had in her long black coat pocket.
“Oooooooooh,” Sheri moaned the now familiar moan Audrey had been hearing all day. Sometimes it was coming from her very own lips.
“What are you going to buy HIM?” She asked in a breathy voice.
“I don’t know.” Audrey’s blue eyes glistened under her auburn hair. “That’s where you come in.”
“You DO realize that he simply called and ordered flowers. He didn’t specify magical red.” Sheri was waving her hands unable to contain herself. “He just got lucky!” She leaned forward with her green eyes blazing directly at Audrey’s to make her point.
“He’s going to get a lot luckier too.” Audrey bent over in laughter and slapped Sheri’s back as they walked into the main entrance of the mall.
“Down girl.” Sheri giggled as she held heavy glass door for her friend.

As they walked into the main floor of the mall, the usual smell of cinnamon buns filled the air. One thing was different. A flutist, violinist and keyboard player were performing live. They were in the middle of a river dance song. One brave spectator was river dancing to the delight of the crowd. Sheri and Audrey joined them to watch.
“Wow they’re good.” Sheri bounced happily watching the curly blond haired man dance.

As they finished up their piece, just the murmuring of the crowd could be heard. Audrey and Sheri walked into their favorite store, which was just behind the musical group. They always went there first and sometimes never made it to any other store. The group started again playing an instrumental of a top forties song and music filled the air as they shopped.

Walking passed shirts, watches and cologne nothing seemed right to Audrey. She was starting to think she would never find anything that would say flowers keep them coming. She stood in front of a counter deep in thought, holding a bottle of men’s cologne. The musical group started to play their version of titanic. Sweet sounds cascaded through the air. Instantly, Audrey got lost in the music. She pulled the rose out of her deep coat pocket and looked at its red brilliance while she listened to the melody. Her heart swelled with each note, and tears of joy filled her eyes. She didn’t notice that Sheri had wondered off without her.
“AUDREY come quick.” Sheri’s voice was shrill with excitement.

“Audrey snapped out of her trance and followed her friend’s voice to the back of the store. Sheri was waving her hands as she saw Audrey come into view.
“Come here. Quick!” Sheri made no attempt to hide the glee in her voice.

As Audrey got close enough, Sheri moved both her arms to the right the same way Vanna White displays letters. There it was a display of men’s red boxer shorts mounding up like a small hill.
“Aaaagh,” Audrey ran to the shorts grabbing several pairs and caressed her face with them.
“They’re silk.” She rubbed some of the fabric in between her thumb and index finger.
“Oh my gosh, what are the odds?” Audrey asked her friend who was now brimming with pride for making the discovery.
“Pretty good, when you consider you got married on Valentines Day!” Sherri quipped.
“Oh your husband is going to look great in these!” Sheri held the shorts to her swiveling hips.
“Down girl!” Audrey reciprocated playfully.

Audrey and Sheri were overcome with delight and began squealing like schoolgirls.
“Can I help you?” The salesman’s voice came from behind the screaming women.
Knowing they should have been embarrassed just made them laugh more. Audrey finally got a hold on her emotions and told him she wanted to buy a pair of the shorts.
“No two pairs,” she corrected herself. “I can have another pair ready and waiting right away as soon as the first pair wears out.”
“Well in that case I feel compelled to tell you if you buy three pairs you can get the fourth one free.” The salesman was sure she would want to know that after only spending a few seconds with her.
“Four pairs it is.” Audrey answered as if she were at an auction.

Audrey and Sheri grabbed each other’s hands and circled in a brief dance of joy they had done on many occasions. After saying their goodbyes in the parking garage, Audrey was off towards home and her husband.

He was going to be home in half an hour so she had just made it. Tim came home right on schedule and found her sitting in the kitchen with a mischievous grin on her face. She had just enough time to change into her pink sweats and tank top.
“Hi honey. Got your flowers.” She almost couldn’t contain herself thinking of how those shorts would look on her husband’s beautiful body. His being a half-inch from six four just added to his hansom, chiseled face and soulful brown eyes.

She stood up as he came near. With the shorts hidden behind her back, she jumped onto her husband wrapping her legs around his torso.
“Surprise.” She pulled the brilliant, red shorts out from behind her back and dangled them near his face.
“They’re silk.” She rubbed them gently on his cheek then pushed them over his head like a hat. Greedily pulling his face close to hers; she pressed her lips onto his passionately. Tim slowly twirled as they kissed holding her legs still firmly around his middle.
“So I’m putting them on NOW?” Tim asked as their lips parted even though he did not need an answer.
With his strong arms still covered by his business suit, he lowered her back on her chair. He thought it might be fun to model them for her so he put them on in private. As he walked back into the kitchen, sporting nothing but the red shorts, she rose as if in the presence of greatness. Tim turned back and forth a few times as if on a runway giving Audrey her favorite smile.
“Oh baby.” She walked towards her husband unable to take her eyes off his long, lean body covered only a small patch of red silk.
“So this is my surprise?” Tim asked nuzzling his nose in her ear.
Staring into each other’s eyes they embraced as he leaned to give her another long, loving kiss.
“Part of it.” She responded coyly. “I’m going to thank you for the flowers too.” The corners of her mouth fought to keep from smiling too much.
Tim picked her up as if to carry her over the threshold. Gingerly he walked towards their bedroom so Audrey could thank him as only she can.

Howard, I read about King's book in the annual of Writers Digest, and ordered it online, I can hardly await it's arrival.

Jerry

Jerry Jerry Jerry:

Well allow me to be the first to post my passion short shorty. I know maybe it isn't what you meant, but what the heck, it deals with passion doesn't it?


Never had I seen such beauty, I knew she was born of the finest royalty that ever ruled any nation of Europe. She moved with such fluid grace that to see her move caused an almost sensual excitement, which I hadn’t felt since my youth.

She was dressed to kill, adorned with accessories lovingly crafted by fine European craftsmen. I knew if I could have her, I would never want again. To hold her would bring such ecstasy.

I approached her guards, and asked permission to touch her, just for a moment, a simple touch, that much could not be denied even by the most careful watchman. Oh how my heart sank when the simple touch was denied.

I was shocked however when the watchman told me that, for a price, I could take her home. My God, sacrilege, horrors, that they would even consider selling her.

Oh but how could I resist such an offer, my wife would understand, how could she not if I bring her home, show her off in the bedroom, how could anyone hold me in contempt for buying her. She was after all, a one of a kind. Only one in a thousand even came close to such perfection, one in a million would match her.

I took out my checkbook, and wrote the check while the watchman filled out the necessary paperwork so I could leave the gun show with my new possession, the hand assembled custom made Belgium Browning double rifle was mine.

Hi all, just checking in. I note that the subject for today's shortie is passion. I'll get to that in a minute.

LAURA: AHA you've not buggered off then good. I am in the middle of reading your story, and so far I like it. NOTE: I find the mood of your piece fits in quite nicely when listening to Enigma especilly Sadness Part 1, try it.

TEEKAY: Thanks for your comments on my piece. I am looking to hone it to perfection before I move onto another. I have a few more ideas that need looking into.

CHRISTI: Yes I am quite mad aren't I?

You know the thing about coming onto the site is the realisation that I am speaking to more people from America and Australia but not many Brits. It just hit me that it would be really chucklesome if I start throwing in some really obsecure English Slang. Some of you probably already know them but it would be a larf to test that. Also it would come in handy if ever you were writing about an Englishman (what a Pillock). See I've already started.

Slang for today is "plonker". Clue here is that its onamatapeoic. HA HA HA HA I am evil.

Right moving onto something serious: PASSION

Badminton:

I look dead in the other mans eye,
poised and ready to strike.
With a racket in my hand, and sweat down my face,
I’ll hit the shuttlecock high.

Badminton is not just a game to him and myself,
but a test of speed, endurance and guile.
So high and hard I shall hit my mark,
till a trophy of victory does sit on my shelf.

Of course the game is not just to win,
for if that were all ther’d be no point,
‘cause to play a game where victory is all,
would to my heart and soul be a sin.

But to win the game do this I intend,
And win the game I shall.
When my turn it does come, there will soon be no doubt
for With a hit to his left, the game it will end.

THE END:

Take Care All

RRRRRRRRRRAMON.

I just received Stephen King's "On Writing," and so far it's excellent! I'd recommend it to any writer!

Teekay,

Don't blush again, but what you are looking for, me sweetie, is not relevations either, its revelations. You know I grant no mercy for these mistakes. None given, none expected. "Har Har Har, me hearties. There's Teekay on a pike, and quite right for it. P'raps better than going to Jerry's town and gettin' kicked in the arse enough to stop the itching in an elephant's piles and for no blinkin' more reason than looking at a brass buffalo's balls. There's Landlubbers for ye.

Black Bill, the irate pirate.

Well I have the first five pages of my ghost story re-writen again, it does resemble the other two just a bit, but of course, it changes, improves if you will with each writing. Should have it done within the next couple of days, how is everyone else doing on their contributions to **P** I see there have been some additions, I should go read them now I guess. Passion huh, not sure if I can come up with anything that I would post here with that in mind, it has been a long time since I had any passion about anything.

Jerry

Hi All;

GARIESS: How silly of me *blush*, I meant relevations. ;-)

HALLEE: My first and second initials are T. K. Maybe the same as the guy who owns the truck. :-)

Am feeling blue today. Mum and Dad left this morning and now there's a big empty space.
Going to catch up on the rest of the notebook and then wade in despondancy for a bit.

HALLEE - hi

Jake: Croup...penicillin and cough syrup
Faith: Double ear infection, chest congestion...pennicillin and cough syrup.

Two prescriptions for antibiotics and cough syrup: $22.00
Two bottles of children's aceteminophen: $7.00
Not waking up at 2AM to tandem screaming: Priceless

HALLEE -- Thanks. Try this bonding ritual.

• Pucker your lips
• Fill your cheecks with air
• Hold your lips firmly (not tightly) together
• Release the air in your cheeks through your lips.

Thoughts
My thoughts spread like a big drop of ink in a bowl of water
Slow and thin fingers of ideas, network
Fantasy and reality duel with dull swords and blank stares
I know what I want, but alone I watch
My thoughts focus on one main goal,
And then another battle rages, blurring the picure
I know what I want, but alone I watch
My thoughts center on a life of writing
Who wins the battle
Fantasy or reality
thoughts

Allein: Holidays is keeping me away from school and now I'm bored stiff. On the other hand I've just realised I should be writing, drawing and reading to make up for the time spent on homework and all those late nights reading till 12 o'clock...

Anyway, I've started rewriting 'Perfect Child', thoughI'm trying to think of a different name. I thought of 'Silent screams' but I think I'm dropping the inability to express emotions part...

Mary:

Stop with the blond stuff. I wish I had enough money to dye my hair blond. It is black.

Would you like to hear how I woke up this morning after not being able to sleep again?

There is no shcool so I didn't have to get up early. Well early the dogs were barking at the front door like madmen. They woke me up and I ran to the door. When I opened it there was a strange man there. I couldn't hear what he was saying so I picked up the little dog and reached down the grab the colar of the big one. I pushed my half inch long finger nail all the way back pulling it a little off my skin. I'm now in severe pain and pulling my dogs out the back door.

Instead of running straight out the back yard, they went to the gate towards the front. Yesterday was trash day so that can only mean one thing, the gate was left open by my husband. So I now had to run out side in my bare feet with my finger still on fire. I have only had my eyes opened for less than a minute bed to yard. Meanwhile the man is still at my door. He could be in the house kiling my kids. By the way, they were sleeping and now they are screaming. I ran back in the house beating my dogs back to stay outside to get to this man. He is from the electric company and wants to change my meter to one they can read without getting out of the car.

I agree shut the door and run down stairs to help my screaming twins while I flop back in bed. All this in less than four minutes upon opening my eyes.

I must have spit on a gyspy some where along the line.

Tina:

Yes, passion. I'm going out on a limb. So expect that.

Hallee and Mary:


Thanks, I hope I wake up soon. It's starting to have a bad effect on me. Just so we are clear, fathers do throw up badly. Right?

Debra

Well, I am officially a pain in the ass mother now. It took me three years, but I finally did it. Big fight with the pediatrician and we have switched doctors. Can't wait to see how this plays out.

TINA: Yes, you read right....PASHIN and I can't wait.

Do I sense some angst against big-city dwellers, Jerry?
I live in a smallish town, and many Vancouverites move here to 'get away from the city'. Then they complain non stop about the lack of city perks and wonder how we 'country folk' can stand living so far away from 'civilisation'. Many is the times I've wanted to 'kick their ass'. hehehe

Did I correctly read that this week's shortie topic is 'Passion'?

Here and gone again...
T.J.

Oh, forgot to mention, my new "Big Foot Texan" Hard Drive came in the mail yesterday, and I stuck it in this machine, so my days of Linux accidents are over, I will put Linux on a different machine, and only use this one for writing, (and maybe playing a few games.)

Oh and by the way Hi to everyone, I always forget the greeting of the day, funney I used to forget that when I was in Basic Training in the Army so many years ago, boy do you get your ass chewed out when you salute and forget the "greeting of the day" and are a trainee.

Jerry

Two children sick now.

Cold Artic blasts bringing in a new cold front.

Grey skies still.

BUT better spirits nonetheless.


HALLEE, DEBRA, and MARY,

Hang in there.

Got this in the EMAIL this Morning, thought it was kind of cute, as it gives a taste of the true attitude of the good folks here in both Dakota's, some of it, however may loose something in the translation.

Issued by the North Dakota Tourism Bureau to ALL visiting Californians and Northeastern Urbanites:
1) Don't order filet mignon or pasta primavera at Kroll's Kitchen. (NOTE: Kroll's Kitchen serves ethnic northern European food ie German, Swedish, Norwegen) It's a diner. They serve breakfast 24 hours a day. Let them cook something they know. If you upset the ladies in the kitchen they'll kick your ass.
2) Don't laugh at the names of our little towns (Minnewauken, Rolla, Gackle, Osnabrock, Cando, Walhalla, Zap, etc.) or we will just HAVE to kick your ass.
3) Don't order a bottle or a can of soda here. Up here it's called
Pop. Accept it. Doing otherwise can lead to an ass kicking.
4) We know our heritage. Most of us are more literate than you. We are also better educated and generally a lot nicer. Don't refer to us as a bunch of hicks or we'll kick your ass.
5) We have plenty of business sense. You have to to make a living
up here. Naturally, we do sometimes have small lapses in judgment from time to time, but we are not dumb enough to let someone move to our state in order to run for the Senate. If someone tried to do that, we would kick their ass.
6) Don't laugh at our giant fiberglass cows and our turtles made
out of car parts. Anything that inspires tourists to buy 50,000 postcards can't be bad. When you're in Jamestown don't point at the genitalia on the giant buffalo or we'll kick your ass.
7) We are fully aware of how cold it gets here in the winter, so shut the hell up. Just spend your money and get the hell out of here or we'll kick your ass.
8) Don't order the vegetarian special at the local diner. Everyone will instantly know that you're a tourist. Eat your steak well-done like God intended and have some potatoes with that, for heaven's sake! Also, don't ask what a hot dish is or we'll kick your ass.
9) Don't try to fake a NoDak accent. We don't have an accent. Do
NOT mention the movie "Fargo" as that will incite a riot and you will get your ass kicked.
10) Don't talk about how much better things are at home because we know better. Many of us have visited big-city hell-holes like Detroit, New York, and LA, and we have the scars to prove it. If you don't like it here, Northwest Airlines is ready when you are. Move your ass on home before it gets kicked.
11) Yes, we know that ice fishing is "not your thing." We don't care. If you don't understand the beauty of being out on a lake when it's 10 degrees then you should go home and try fishing in New York Harbor. Also, don't hog the heater in the fish house or we'll kick your ass.
12) Don't complain that North Dakota is flat and that there aren't enough trees. If you whine about OUR scenic beauty we'll kick your ass all the way back to Cleveland.
13) Don't ridicule our mannerisms. We only speak when spoken to. We hold doors open for others. We offer our seats to old folks because such things are expected of civilized people. Behave yourselves around our sweet, little grey-haired grandmothers or they will kick some manners into your ass just like they did ours.
14) So you think we're quaint or losers because most of us live on the prairie? That's because we have enough sense to not live in
filthy, smelly, crime-infested cesspools like New York or LA. Make fun of our fresh air and we'll kick your ass.
15) Last, but not least, DO NOT DARE to come out here and tell us how the prairie should "go back to the buffalo." This will get your ass shot (right after it is kicked). Just mention this once and you will go home in a pine box. Minus your ass.
Enjoy your visit in the Peace Garden State!

See, I should never try and just list people from memory to say hi to. I always forget people.

MARY: Hey there. I'm so sorry. That sucks. My daughter had an ear infection from about four weeks to about eighteen months, with just a week or two off at a time. The last time she had one, the doctor mentioned tubes, and that was it. I told him at her two year checkup that he should have said something about tubes a year earlier. ((Big hugs for mommy)).

Hallee

DEBRA: I feel your pain. I have been knocking on wood for three years that neither of my children have ever had an ear infection. I guess I didn't knock hard enough because I feel like a zombie today from all the screaming last night. Not mine, theirs. Winks and hugs. Doesn't help that I myself have only been healthy for one week since Christmas.

Wish I could renovate my mind. Needs more closet space, and perhaps a skylight. I'm a blonde, so I already have central air. Pshaw!

Hallee:

We are getting better. The problem is that who ever needs help in the middle of the night gets it from the same person. Me.

So I have been up every night to help someone since the second week of January.


I feel just like I did when the kids were babies and getting up. I need some sleep.

Also the girls still have a cough and it gets really bad at night.

They cough like fathers throw up. Well I think all fathers throw up the same. Right? It sounds like someone is pulling their throat out. Well that's because they fight it.
Well anyway that's the way the twins cough over and over. They have their cribs in our rooms. We give them cough syrup but nothing really really works. NOw with so many product in question.

So yes we are getting better but I need some sleep.

Debra

TEEKAY: I almost wrecked yesterday...I was driving down the road, and this big bubba truck passed me and my peripheral vision caught the sign on the side of his truck. TEEKAY'S LOCK & KEY. Tripped me out. How did you derive the name? (Oh, yeah, I think it's the writer - I do the same thing.)

MARK & JERRY: Nice bonding. *snort* Men never make sense to women. Hahaha.

GARIESS: It could have been a renovation, if you want to get really technical. hehehe

GORDON: Aww...what were the comments on your paper?

RHODA: ((((Big hug))). Hope you get some sunshine, and hope your kid starts feeling better.

HEATHER: Howdy.

CHRISTI: Hey there.

DEBRA: Is everyone feeling better yet?

Okay, all. I've learned that the prayer, "Please, God, not this week," works. Monday at noon I got a call from my daughter's daycare - chicken pox. You cannot imagine how busy I am at work right now. It's terrible. I left the middle of a meeting last night at 5:15 so that I could pick up my daughter and the pizza, get them home to my husband, and make it on time to a 6:00 meeting. Anyway, she had spots - she had fever, and Tuesday morning she woke up with nothing. Completely healthy and in a good mood.

All righty then, off to write the rest of chapter 7.

Teekay,

Renovation???????????????

GS

Oh, there certainly was, Trudy!

*big grin!*

back to the swamp...

I mean, writing (and some editing) on my novel.

I wonder I could be charged for defacing a bunch of paper?
(writing ON my novel, oh forget it.)

Headache in Havenville

Heather

JERRY -- "but then proceeded to claim the 1 gig too, as a swap partition for LInux, " HAHAHAHAHAHA. PHHEEWWWWWW. My eyes got moist. You probably know there are die-hard Linux guys out there who'd think using your Win drive for Linux swap is an ideal solution. However. I use Windows for a lot of stuff just because they make it so easy. I believe a little less of the hype about Linux as 'superior' Operating System and as I passed 50 began valuing more ease-of-use. When Windows98SE gave away free internet connection sharing, I quit being a Linux network administrator. I'll pick it back up with the next kernel, though because of what it promises in security.

Hi all,

Kind of funny to see Teekay talking about the addictiveness of the Notebook. I haven't been around for quite awhile. My life seems so hectic sometimes it scares me. But tonight I was lured here, just to see what was happening, and after a few private emails and an addition to the collaberative work, I had to say hi!

So hello everyone. I think I may try to pop in more often again...everyone needs a good addiction!

Trudy, who has returned to good old New Brunswick, Canada, after a year in Ontario...there was a purpose for that one-year move, wasn't there Heather? *grin*

Teekay,

Self-restraint has never been my forte either. I am just very busy right now with one sick child and many little pressing concerns. But I still check the Notebook once or twice a day. I am addicted and cannot completely stay away.

I am getting over a cold. It is also PMS time and I am a little depressed. I am not very talkative when I am blue. Perhaps my low mood is due to the weather which is overcast and a bit cool.

Rhoda

Richard - How about I break your leg and then you'll forget about your head hurting. Just kidding, of course. Take two aspirin and stay away from school and all things school related.

I've had an ongoing headache for a couple of days now. It's like this dull pain in the front of my head and sometimes near my temples. I don't know, maybe I'm just stressed because finals are this week.
But I still have time to write and draw but I have so much I want to do with both that I'm not sure which to do!!
*smiles*
Allein

I'm here ramon,

The comp lab was closed for presidents weekend, and so I used most of the time to work on my portfolio for Grad school.

Morning All,

TINA:(((((((((((((((((((((((HUGS))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

JACK: Well said.

BARNABAS: 3 days since your previous post you say?? Well obviously you haven't hit the addiction stage yet. heh heh.
Sorry, can't answer your question about the collaborative writing.

RHODA: It would be a good thing if I had your self restraint, if I don't have anything to say, I juts babble. It helps me find where I left off the next day. :-)

MARY: HI!!!!!!! :-)

I had one of those renovations yesterday. Maybe this is something I should keep to myself, but what the heck.
I was walking down the street yesterday and I saw this uni student loaded with books and I thought to myself, 'wouldn't it be great to be a uni student, what a lifestyle.' and after a bit of thought I decided that I do that a lot. Think it would be great to be in someone else's shoes a bit, but you know what?
I really wouldn't. I like the thought of being a uni student, or a racing car driver or being or doing numerous other things, but the truth is I would rather only imagine it, because living it would be too restricting.
eg: If I were the uni student, my life would probably suck. I wouldn't know what was going on around me, I would be too busy with study and lectures etc, etc.
Being me I can be anyone. I can pick up a pen and I can walk in anyone shoes for as long as I want to.
I wonder if this is a writer mind state or am I just crackers.
Let me know, no wait, don't.

Okay, now I'm having one of those shall I push the submit butto....

Hi Tina, You don't know me, I joined while you were away. I lost my dad the same way. He was 55, that was in 73. I miss him to this day. It seems to me to be easier for the individual to go quickly the way our dads did but better for the family the way it was for Jacks Mother in Law. We didn't get to say good bye. But our dads didn't suffer watching death slowly pull them in. I'm so sorry.

Jack - That was beautiful. Thanks.

Hello everybody,
It’s Gordon here and I finally received my paper back form my English instructor. I got a C+, which is disappointing, but I will live with it for now. I have always considered English my poorest subject and it has reflected in my grades. I hope I can take part in the ideals of this board to help better myself. So to cut to the chase: I would love to participate in the shorts and the repartee that exists here on this board. I want the strait forward critique of my writing; I’m thick skinned and can take it all. If you have any suggestion of books to read or certain textbooks to study fire them my way, as I am ready to improve my writing to a new level.

Mark and Mary,
Thank you both so much for taking time to critique the first 2 chapters of my novel. I don’t know what I want to do with this vast and growing collection of words I am putting together. The chapters that I have posted so far don’t even hint at what the book is about and maybe that is part of the problem I am having with the book. What the book is about is vague inside my head but it is strong inside my heart. I feel that it is one of those books that, to a certain extent, must write itself. Chapter one was to introduce Scott Gordon, John Millsap and the boys. Chapter two introduces Joey and Betsy. Both chapters mention the marriage of Bill and Melinda Brandt. I don’t really have a direction for the book, it doesn’t really go anywhere. It is not an action story but there is a little excitement in later chapters. It is not a love story but there is a lot of love of several kinds interwoven throughout the whole story. There is a marriage on the rocks, and another that quietly works very well. There is a father’s devotion to the young people in his community. Oscars Bend is a snapshot of a sleepy little neighborhood in a quiet town during the summer of 1960. It’s not one story it is several. There are a few children crossing the threshold from childhood to adolescence and they each do it differently. There are the adults trying and others too caught up with their own demons, but being role models. There is the competition to catch a fish and a stray dog that eventually find his way home. Maybe it is not such a good idea for a novel and when I’m done I may not send it anywhere. But, for now, I am going to pursue it as a practice novel and try to use it to learn the craft of writing. If I can take this non-idea and make it even a half way interesting read then maybe I will have an easier time with a couple of better ideas that I have.
I appreciate your criticism and thank you for it. I also want to thank Jack B. for creating and maintaining this site. Writing is about the only thing that makes sense for my life now and I want to learn to do it well. I hope you all stay with me and I hope I can give something back to the group. This seems like a good place to do the kind of growing that will be necessary to do that. Counting was’s – who knew? Thanks for your thoughts, now, as soon as I beat this flu I will get on with the re-write. So if anybody else has anything to add to what Mark and Mary have given me, now would be a good time because I expect to start the re write as soon as my immune system wakes up.

Mary:

Thanks.

Richard:
Please take something for your head. I like your imput.

Debra

DEBRA: Yes, the shortie night theme is either PASSION or write a true story about your writing life.

My head hurts.

So are we going with passion on Thursday?

I have plans for a story about just that. It's a bit of a stretch. But I hope you all will tell me just how much I stretched with it.


Looking forward to it.

I'm at the moment still struggling with the stretch part.

Debra

Mark - I have this machine set up with a 1 gig and on that I have windows and office, along with a few games to pass the time. I used to have a 3.2 gig in it, but it began developing bad sectors, so I put it as my secondary master. Then I installed Redhat Linux on it, when it crashed, it took out LILO with it, and along with LILO, the boot for windows 98. The second time with Turbo LINUX, I told it to set it up on the 3.2 gig, and let it go automatic, well it did set up Linux on the 3.2 gig, but then proceeded to claim the 1 gig too, as a swap partition for LInux, thus formatting it and killing everything on the 1 gig. I do have a new 3.2 gig coming for this machine, then I will take out both of these and stick the 1 gig in an old Packard Bell 166MHZ that I am rehabing with a new Motherboard, the old board is shot. I found a fellow on Ebay who was selling pentium MB's for this machine but so far he has sent me 3 bad ones, this time he said he will check it before sending it out. That will be my Linux box when I am done with it. I got the old Mac Quadra 800 and set it up on the dining room table, my daughter is having a great time with it when she comes to visit, I think it will be hers shortly as she is doing web-design part time, and the Mac is set up with all the web design software. She also has Photoshop and Illustrator on the Pentium II 400 that I built for her and gave her for her graduation gift last spring, when she graduated from college. Between the two machines she should be able to do some nice web pages. I have a network card coming for the Mac so we can tie them together and she can share her zip drive with both machines.

I do love playing with Linux, but I guess I will keep my windows machine for most of the real work. Redhat Linux 6.0 came with Word Perfect on the same CD, and I do have the 5 disk set for that and a 6 disk set for Mandrake, along with Turbo LInux, and Winlinux, which is a strange OS but that is another story.

Tina, I am so sorry for your loss, loosing a parent is so difficult. I lost my father when he was 63 also, that was back in 1973. I remember every minute of what happened, I was in the Army stationed at Fort Bliss Texas at the time, Dad went into the hospital against his will, (mother said he was too sick to make up his own mind). He went in for a sore back and a sever chest cold. Well when he checked in, he called the Red Cross and told them he was dyeing, and that he wanted me home from the Army. The night I got the call, I was on guard duty, and had worked all day, been up all night on the duty. The First Sgt. came down to my guard post and relieved me, telling me that I needed to be home right away. I went home and got my wife and kids out of bed, and we left right away. I drove straight through, for 24 hours straight to get home. When I got to the hospital, dad was up and walking around, in fact he came out and sat with us in the waiting room for about a half hour, then tired out and went back to his room. A couple of hours later, he went into the DT's, and didn't know anyone. I went to his room, and he thought I was his brother. About an hour later he slipped into coma, and never woke up. Mom didn't have any idea he was so sick, in fact when I got there, she was so surprised, as she didn't know he made the call. Things like that stay with you for such a very long time. My daughter was only six months old, my son a year and a half. We always told her that her Grandpa did hold her for awhile before he died. My son, always teased her that she killed grandpa, because he took one look at her and died. She believed him for many years until she got old enough to figure out that he was only teasing. She only told us about that last year. Kids can be so very cruel some times.

Just know that you will be in my thoughts and prayers.

Well back to my third rewrite on my ghost story, this time I will save it to a floppy before I do anything STUPID.

Jerry

Teekay,

I am still here. I just don't have a lot to say right now.

Tina,

It was several months after my mother died when I was able to write again, but when that happened the muse returned greater than ever. I am glad to see you back again. I know you are grieving. Take your time to work it through, though that never completely happens.

Rhoda

Baranabas:

It was your shorty.

Tina - Glad to see you back. (((BIG HUGS)))
*Smiles*
Allein

JERRY -- mandrake linux is based on RedHat. I've used both, like 'em about equally. Next linux install will use whichever one comes out with the 2.4 kernel first. Back in the good ol' days I used slackware and compiled the kernel in a 1.2 distribution. Have never experienced disk wipe. Bad sectors on the disk cause that?

I have a 20Gb drive for Win98 in this machine and a new 30Gb drive still in the box waiting for linux. As I buy parts and do upgrades I keep some pieces. I formated an 850Mb drive and ran RedHat on it. Pulled the drive from a 486 I couldn't give away, mounted it as slave in a Win95 P166. Found that it made a wonderful firewall/router for a home network. I like the Mahjong game, too. :)

Well said, Jack. Wish it didn't, but sometimes losing a close loved one hurts for long enough to call it a lifetime of grief. It took a long time for me to remember good things that a close friend and I did together before she was killed. After about a year, I could just barely recall what her laugh sounded like. Now it's what I think of first, when I am thinking of her. It still took over 3 years to get through the heaviest of grieving; and then another close friend died. Five years after that, I sat up one day and thought to myself that I still hadn't finished greiving. Maybe I won't ever be finished, because I still feel an empty space in my life that they alone could fill; even though I know I'll see them again, how I wish it could be now.
The grief hits me less frequently now, as it has been fourteen years since Jennifer died, and eleven years since Elizabeth. Just writing their names I feel it again.


Well, I think that's enough sharing; I don't want to depress anyone, as I know each of you have your own loved ones you greive for. Remember to grasp the depths of your emotions, no matter how terrifying and sad, and understand them, analyze them, turn them inside out. Take them and, instead of bottling them up, spread them thin on paper and see them take on new life before your eyes.

Nothing like a little self-inflicted therapy.
;-/
Heather

TINA -- Glad to see you back. More glad that you have real, live people around to support you. This long-distance love stuff feels a bit hollow, I/We share your pain, but there's nothing like a big comfy hug. I think Jack was eloquent. Time's a healer. Be good to yourself.

TINA: Our thoughts and prayers are with you.

JACK: Well done, Sir.

MARK: Thank you for the "plot" link and the plastic surgeon pun.

HOWARD: Haha. I remember the first time you ever told us that one. Are your pickles sweet or dill?

TEEKAY: Well, just...HI!

CHRISTI: I personally don't think you would ever kick a dog or anybody else while they were down. ;-)

HOP: I have a character in there who is so totally annoying I am thinking of evicting her from her apartment just to be rid of her. I would do it, too, if she didn't have three little ones and a dead-beat husband. Maybe I will kill off her husband and she won't be so cantankerous anymore.

Gotta love bad jokes.

Hey everyone!

Well, I've finally caught up with myself. I've rewritten the beginning, and was able to utilize more of what I'd already written than what I expected to be able to use, so chapter 6 is finished, and I'm pretty sure I'm pleased with the results.

TINA: ((Warm hugs for you)). You'll stay in my prayers.

ROSEMARY: Hugs for you, too. Happy Tuesday.

Okay - I'm going to go see what I can do with the beginning of chapter 7 in the next 15 mins. Then I have to get the household moving and out the door.

Hallee

Technical writer question
What do you call a collaborative writing where everyone writes a different story about major
events that happened?

Richard
Apparently it's your birthday. Thanks to Teekay for reminding all of us. And happy birthday!

Swan
Drug addiction story number 8

Arik
Hello. I'm new.

Stephanie
Hello to you too. Are you new?
My hint is to play music suited to the genre you're writing. Heroic if you're writing action, scary
if you write horror. I get really motivated when I do.

Teekay
I want to join the club too.

It's only been 3 days, Teekay since my previous post.

Ramon
Killing protagonists is a sad business, but in every crime novel someone has to die.

It just so happens there's a dog treat called "smackos" which happens to be advertised on TV
every now and then. From the claymation advertising I can tell none of my canine friends want
to eat one (I'm really a dog as you may or may not have read).

Got your e-mail.

Rosemary
That's a good idea. Now all I need is to find a place where writer's frequently visit. Suggestions
anyone?
Sorry, I love to be "master of the obvious." Now I'm also being a real psuedo-intellectual.

I see you've picked up my joke. Where are the laughs people?

Christi
Okay, okay, stop kicking, I tenderise easily. Just like you to kick a dog when it's down.

Everybody
I can't help it, these lame jokes keep coming and coming and going and going and going.... uh
oh. Another one! Confound it! It just creeps up now and then every few weeks so bear with me,
please.

Christi
I wish I felt energised to write my novel. Right now I'm writing the exciting "fight to death" part
and have yet to feel excited by my own writing. I'll try playing some heroic music.

Mary
Join the first novel club! Just be careful, those characters will run all over and natter at you to
put pointless words in the novel. I've had to argue with them about this on several occasions
already.

Debra
I'm not sure how you connected my story with a letter format. Are you sure you're refering to my
shorty?

It's about soldiers who are given the option of using a drug to ease their pain while training.
Unknown to them, the drug also erases their personalities until they forget who they are. Just
remember training and the the drug. Then when they collapse they are taken away and their
brains are placed in metal suits or their body parts are replaced with metal.

Gareiss
Just pointing some facts out. I wasn't offended or anything just annoyed at the world as a whole.
My perception of myths comes from American TV. I'm not American myself so I don't really
understand much about being one.

Tina: Take time. Lots of time. For yourself. You will need it. Having lost my mother in front of me from a heart attack when I was ten and my father as a relief when he died of natural causes after ten years of strokes and being in a nursing home, I can well relate with the feelings of exhaustion and the sense of being overwhelmed and not being able to make sense of it all. It will take time. The average grief process takes approximately eighteen months. The range can be short months to a lifetime, but the bottom line is that it has its own track of time that we as participants can only begin the fathom. Grief groups are a good thing. After my mother-in-law's death we are taking a more active approach to this all, including anti-depressants and grief groups. In our case, this perhaps was more for us than for Genevieve. At 91, she was ready to join her deceased husband that she had lost 61 years before. Also, the fact that she spent most of three weeks secumbing to death in a hospice situation at home, gave us all time to share, cry, touch, feel and make sense of it all. I cannot script what you will have to do for yourself and only share what I have had to do for myself and Fran has had to do for herself. Each day is a new day, one pregnant with new discoveries and new ways to stub our toes or find release. Fran could not cry for most of two months. Then one night we were listening to the radio as we drived and someone requested the theme music from Titanic. Given the theme of Titanic, it very much fitted what my mother-in-law had experienced in her life and Fran finally broke down and cried. Her tears spawned my own and, though I did not pull off to the side of the road, I felt the gentle release of those tears, hers and mine.

Sleep and know all here on the Notebook care about you and each in our own way have shared the same experience in the human condition and know in our own ways the grief you are just now beginning to process.

With all of our love and prayers and energies, we hope the best for you and yours and that you have the time and the wisdom and the special epiphanies that will carry you through all this to another place. Maybe not better, but another. At that point, use what is inside of you to express in your writing this time of extremes. Not for anybody else. Not for any of us. For yourself. Hold that close and cherished to come back to. With caring, we wish you well.

Hello everyone.

Thank you everyone for the well wishes and thoughts and prayers and hugs. I only returned home this evening, and it gave me strength to read the posts. (Although I admit that I only skimmed. Hopefully I'll get back in and read the shorties.)

It's been a long week. My dad had a massive coronary last monday, and despite instant CPR and a fast ambulance crew, he didn't make it. My husband and I drove to where my family lives that night, to stay with my mom during the onslaught of dealing with such a sudden, unexpected tragedy. He was only 63. I'm completely, utterly drained, physically and emotionally and mentally.
We cried a lot, and hugged a lot, told memories and stories, and had to be reminded to sleep and eat. My husband has been great, feeding us and doling out hugs as needed. He's an awesome hugger. The memorial was perfect, exactly as dad would have wanted.

I don't know when I'll get back to writing. Right now I just can't imagine. But I'm sure he'll turn up in at least one story.

Welcome back Gariess and Arik. It was good to see your names.

Gotta go get some sleep now. Thank you everyone again for the prayers you sent out. If it hadn't been for the strength of loved ones and friends I don't know how I couldv'e made it through this last week.

Tina

Oh I would have been so much better off joining in on the jokefest, but NO, here I sit thinking "must have done something wrong when I put LINUX on that computer, maybe, just maybe if I try TURBO LINUX instead of REDHAT, it would work. So what do I do, but grab my TURBO LINUX disk and toss it in my computer, never thinking that maybe I should back up that story, and -- well --- you know the rest. I have just reinstalled Windows 98, and Office and the rest. I will learn one of these days. Well maybe not, I was just this second thinking maybe MANDRAKE LINUX?

Jerry

Howard:


Good one hahahaha Peter built.

ah yeah! That's a knee slapper.

Debra

Gariess:

In fact it sounds really cruel. I hope that idea never falls into the wrong hands.

Debra

Gariess:

I am having a hard time imagining a high school student on viagra.
In fact, I'm getting a headache just thinking about it.

Debra

And now for something completely different:

A hungry lion was roaming through the jungle looking for something to eat. He came across two men. One was sitting under a tree and reading a book; the other was typing away on his typewriter. The lion quickly pounced on the man reading the book and devoured him. Even the king of the jungle knows that readers digest and writers cramp.

Oh, the depths we have sunk to.

How's the water?

OK.

Didja hear about the plastic surgeon who hung himself?

Okay - I wrote this one and sent it to Letterman. He never answered my letter.
--- I met a trucker in New Mexico who said he'd hauled so much Viagra that he had to get a new Peter bilt ---

Quoting directly from Debra's text: "Then Debra says I hope that clears it up." Does this mean she is now recommending Viagra for Acne patients? And you thought things were bad enough already in our high schools.

GS

Gariess:

I'm scratching my head on that one. I don't know.

I don't always have all the answers.

Debra

Okay, Debra,

Then maybe you can explain this one. The next guy in line at the counter asked the druggist if he could just get some small Viagra pills. He said, "I don't want to have sex. I just want to quit peeing on my shoes."

GS

Barnabas,

I don't know where you get your Chinese myths from but around here the myth about Chinese food is the 'one hour later' thing. One hour later you are hungry again. For me it can be anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour-and-half. This is not very important, but one time I shot myself with a Chinese gun and one hour later I was fine. That might be how the myth got started. Like one hour after you light a Chinese firecracker you don't hear a bang. Then there's the 'one hour after you kiss a Chinese girl, you have to kiss her again.' I changed that a little to protect the guilty, who is what I am for political incorrectness. I fully expect to catch hell for that, but just remember, folks, I'm not the one who started all this Chinese stuff. And for that matter, I never started all the Italian stuff, either. If you look at my shorty, you will find that I never mention the word, "Italian" in the whole thing. All I talked about was different foods. If I talked about corn would I be alluding to Indians, Hindus, or people from Kansas?

Later,

GS

gariess:

For Pete's Sake no wonder you don't get it.

You heard the joke all wrong.
It goes like this:

The guy says to the pharmicist. Does that Viagra really work? The pharmicist says yeah.

Then the guy says can I get it over the counter.

The pharmicist says it depends how many you take.

Then Debra says I hope that clears it up.

GARIESS: Totally hysterical.

Teekay,

If the guy had his head chopped off, it wouldn't matter much how hung he was.

GS

Mary,

If you think walking into a crowded room with the hem of your dress tucked into the back of your panty hose was embarassing for you, just think about how embarassing it was for me. I was with J. Edgar Hoover that night and he didn't speak to me for weeks afterward.

That reminds me. The other day a man was asking the druggist if he had Viagra. When the druggist said, "Yes." the man said, "Can I get it over the counter?" The druggist said, "Mister, if you can get it over the counter, what would you want with Viagra?"

That's supposed to be funny, but I still don't get it.

GS

BARNABAS: The after death guy wasn't hung, he had his head chopped of. And it rolled across the stage and the experimant guy picked it up and that's when it bit him. I think that's important. I had to come back and tell you.

Sorry about all the spelling areas guys. heh heh.

Hi every one,

HEATHER: I had a dream about you last night. Some kind of schooly thing I think.

EDDIE: Poor Anita. I feel for her. Once I was crossing a busy city main street. Jaywalking I think I must have been. A huge gust of wind blew my skirt over my head to the chous of a million car horns and to make matters worse, when i got to the other side of the rode I was scolded by the police women for not crossing at the lights. I've blocked out what ever came after. I blame that on the trauma.
On the bright side: I was wearing undies and they weren't Grandma ones.

JERRY: I'm glad to hear it.

MARY: I did that too. Except it was in a shop. Coles to be excact. Anyway, I was getting all these looks and was beginning to think I must have worn the right type of perfume, only when I was going up my step at home I couldn't feel the material of my skirt against my leg, so I felt it and it was STUCK IN MY KNICKERS WAISTBAND!!!!
On the bright side: It was late and there were only 2325 people in the shop. Could've been much worse.

One of my favourite maxims: What doesn't kill you will make you stronger.

MARK: Hyuk hyuk hyuk. (an Archie comics chuckle.)

JACK: Good to see you.

BARNABAS: Good to see you too. Was wondering where you went.

I read a story about what happens after your dead. Can't remember who wrote it, but after this guy was hung, he bit the guy who was doing the experiment. Stayed in my head.

HOWARD: Good to see you too. I've been looking and looking and I can't find your ghostie contribution anywhere. :-)
Please do write one, I would love to read it.
Something like the one with Jemmalyn would be good.

CHRISTI: Definitely an addictive personality.
I remember your gym story.

ROSEMARY: Hi there. :-) and a little peck on the cheek to beaky too.
Sorry, one of those days, and it's only just begun.

RACHEL: How are things with you?

RHODA: Where are you?

Mum and Dad are going home in 2 days, then I guess I can get my story on the computer. I really don't think I like this one, maybe it's just the mood I'm in.
Anyhow, if you don't like it, scrap it, it was really just a freak of nature anyway.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Bye all, be good, be productive and be nice to the posties, CHRISTI, that last one was for you. :-)

Debra, A contract should state the amount of the fee, which is normally 10%, but some agents do charge 15%. As for other expenses or fees, they, too, should be spelled of in specific detail. Also, how and when the agent makes an accounting; such as monthly, quarterly, etc. Some agents charge a base rate per month for office expenses but, personally, I would stay away from one that did. Have you ever gone to a conference where publishers and agents were there? That's a good way to meet and talk with them one on one. Otherwise, unless you know somebody they have represented, or check their reputation out THOROUGHLY, you just have to take a chance. Whatever you decide, I wish you luck. Keep me posted.

STEPHANIE: Every writer has his or her own style. Personally, I figure out a character's name and start writing. The rest comes easily. Others need to research, plan, plot, outline. Some do a combination of both. If you have a hard time staying on track, or feel things fizzing out, you can do one of two things. Either create a detailed outline prior to starting to write. That means every scene is roughly sketched out without all the fillers. Or, two, you could actually write the end first - if you know where you're going. I never know where I'm going, so that wouldn't work for me. But, by writing the end first, it might give you a goal to work towards that helps the books from fizzling out.

Anyway, I have no clue whether or not I made sense. Good luck. Welcome.

Hallee

woops two entries.

The top one is more complete.


Really sorry.

Mary Lou:


What does the average agent charge? The one I am looking at now stated he gets 15%. Also, he stated he sometimes chages a fee for phone calls and stuff like that.

Can I insist I don't get charged for things like that as long as it's before I sign the contract? Of maybe even insist that it be put into the contract that he only get 15% and nothing more. I like to stay in contact.


If anyone else knows the answer to that queston please feel free to jump right in. I'm terrified. I sent him my stuff and I'm sure I will hear yes he wants me or no he doesn't really soon. So I need to be ready.

Debra

Mary Lou:


What does the average agent charge? The one I am looking at now stated he gets 15%. Also, he stated he sometimes chages a fee for phone calls and stuff like that.

Can I insist I don't get charged for things like that as long as it's before I sign the contract. Of maybe even insist that it be put into the contract that he only get 15% and nothing more. I like to stay in contact.

Debra

Morning all,

BARNABAS,
It struck me that you would be a good candidate for co-writing a novel. (You said you didn't like to do the inbetween parts.) Find someone who likes to write the in-between parts, and you can write the action. Perhaps a female writer who is good at developing characters and personal interactions. ps. The idea for short shorties is for them to be short. (maybe that's what you meant by 'wait a sec.) some humor doesn't translate well in writing here. I should know.

I picked up Enders Game at the library to see what everyone was raving about. Have to read two other books first. Dianne Day's latest Fremont Jones mystery is out. Seems like I remember a notebooker mentioning she liked them a few years ago. This is the fifth book (I think)in the series and sounds like it might be the last for a while. Ms. Day is moving on.

I thought someone on the notebook said the author of 'Clan of the Cave Bear' series was dead, but I read an article that said she has just about finished her next book of the series and had another one about ready. The long period of time between books was because she did enough research to fill two books.

A warm hello to TEEKAY, HALLIE, CHRISTI, HEATHER, RODA, RACHEL, ALL THE GUYS AND EVERYONE ELSE.

Later
Rosemary

Yup. Did it again. It figures.

Sorry guys, I must have been PMSing.

Howard, I'm glad to see you and that everything's okay. I haven't had homemade pickles in forever! Yummmm. Eat a couple for me, won't you?

Gosh, Hallee, Thanks! You guys are the best.
I finally figured out what happened. I faintly remember a window popping up when I hit 'save' that asked if I wanted to save to the reverted file. I thought, whaaaa? My brain was burnt from writing too long, so I hit 'yes'. Don't ever hit 'yes' if it asks you that.
So far it's never been my computer's fault. Just operator problems. :)

Tina, I hope you're doing okay. (((((((((HUGS))))))))))

Stephanie, Sorry, no help here. We do have a few people here who might have some tips, but I've never finished a novel ... yet.

Teekay, Hahaha! Thanks for the cheering up. I think I've been stressing way too much about writing lately. I went to send off my children's story at the postie and when the woman took it from me I grabbed it back from her! Of course I apologised and gave it back. I think I wanted to make sure another re-write wasn't needed! Now THAT'S addiction. Or obsession. I'm going to take some time off I think. ;P

Eddie, Hahaha! Poor Anita!
I had a similar experience where I was walking home from Jr. High school in my pretty, new, red knit dress. So proud I was. Then a dust devil swept through and lifted my dress all the way up and over my head, while a pack of boys behind me got an eyefull. Maybe even two eyefulls, since I had to catch it before it blew away and get it back on. Memories, gotta love 'em.

Barnabas, If they ever are able to transfer memories from the dead to the living I'm outta here! Haha. I've got enough memories to handle, thank you.

Bye ya'll.

Christi

EDDIE -- Chilling! Remind me not to read stuff like that just before I go to bed. Gave me nightmares! Great story!

Kudos to all on the addiction shorties! WIsh I could have joined you but I can't break away from these other tasks I feel compelled to do. Compelled. Hmmm. Mary? Maybe one on Compulsion sometime? There's a whole range of differences between addiction and compulsion. Or are there? Might be fun to explore.

howard

Baranabas:


I forgot to tell you. That women didn't actually burn her kids. A neighbor saw the flames and saved them.

Even though I can never picture me getting to that point, I feel strangely bad for her.


Debra

Barnabas:

When I read your story I read it as though it was a letter from one of my sons. I have two. It ripped my heart out when I thought of it in that way. I know how deeply innocent my sons were when they were little and that's all I can stil see.

That's why it made me so sad.

Debra

I liked the shorties. I've tried to give a few comments on each but most of them are rather short.
Wait a sec....

I was just thinking. Only in America is the metric system sci-fi.

Debra
I was reading your shorty and your comments about mine. My shorty is suppose to be sad but I
didn't expect you to cry though. It's sort of like your story in the sense that it's sad. You dredge
up what you fear to write about a mother sacrificing herself for her children, I dredge up what I
fear to write about a soldier who is forced to become a living machine.
Hope you didn't stay sad for long. By the looks of it you weren't. It is but a story. At least, I
hope it stays that way. If such things really happened then I would shed a tear.

About the two children being burnt alive, wow. She must have been really stressed. It's scary to
think about that.

Maybe one day, they can transfer a person's experience to another person so they can record
what happens after a person's dead.

Jerry
Whoa. Never realised what a horrible addictive nicotine is. Drug addiction story.

Ramon
You're back! I'll try to read the short story. By the way, can you check your e-mail at home?
What I don't understand is if you can check your e-mail at home why do you need to go to an
internet cafe to come here?

Kru
What a true story. Drug addiction story.

Christi
You're right, it is a bit vague. I'll have to work on that I know most of my writing is a bit cryptic
at times. But revealing too much detail could be disasterous. Actually, I've a pretty complete
mental map of what the situation it's just that I try not to reveal too much to gain suspense. <