Exquisite Corpse Spoilers

Random Poem

2010-11-15T22:36:00.000-08:00

Random Poem
by Fordy, Susan, and Doghouse

Any one here?
Was the question.
Was there an answer?
Or even a mention?

"Present" I proclaim,
What about the others?
From the dead (this group) can we reclaim?
I hope so, if I had my druthers.

And with that comes are very good question
I have often wondered about your druthers
Did you simply inherit them,
Of did you steal them from the Mudders?

If he stole them does that make him a thief of genetics,
robbing DNA from sisters and cousins and mothers?
Or are his druthers just fake, like a can of cosmetics
and his choices simply lifted from the minds of some others?

I think she ment Mudders, miners with the milk,
With the Hero of Canton, a man they called Jayne,
(Though, not v ery reputable, men of his ilk),
And I wouldn't steal, from that I abstain.

So you wouldn't steal from rich,
And give to the poor,
Wouldn't look at The Man
and give him "what for"?

You wouldn't stand up for the needy
the blind and the lame?
Then you're not the solution
you're part of the blame.

Well he is Canadian,
and some say that's a fault.
To ward off his evil,
Turn around and throw salt.

A Canadian you say, the ones who misplace their "u's"?
Well I can't really say that that's much of an excuse.
But I'll cut him some slack and pour him some gin
because I think he likes to eat that disgusting looking poutine.

I disagree about the cutting of the slack,
As he breakfasts by the ocean
And then seconds later while still chewing,
He is hiking on a mountain.

I'd stand up for the needy, and regularily donate,
Canadians are good, the salt of the Earth,
I wish the American's would stop all the Hate,
Your spelling without the "u's" fills me with mirth.

American's - we put the "a" in Hate.
Or so the Canadian has tried to prove
Alas he is just our whiny ol' mate,
We know to American he wants to move.

We don’t always hate, sometimes we’re just picky
I’m sure he can figure it out.
Even though the distinction can be subtle and sticky
If he needs help he can just give me a shout.

And maybe the distinction is obvious and plain
and he doesn’t want to condescend.
So before he can do any Canadian legerdemain
I’ll just say that this is The End.

Random Poems

2010-08-24T09:50:00.000-07:00

Random Poems
by Fordy

The first, Doghouse posted "Poem of the Day" and invited everyone to post or write a poem. The second was a little poem for Susan on her birthday; and the third was a little poem for Marie on her birthday.

*********************

Bring out your dead, wailed out the voice,

Startled he awoke, afraid of his choice,

Before surrendering to grief,

He looked on with Relief

Monty Python's Holy Grail is too loud - rejoice!

*********************

This day in July, not so many years gone by,
Born to the world, with a baby's loud cry,
Susan the snarktastic, the spoiler-world queen!
Hope your day is fantastic, fun and Super keen!

*********************

To our Dear Marie,

Please I beg hear my plea,

Sawyer and the gang all say

Have a great day!

Warmest Birthday wishes to you are sent

All Haters can go and get bent!!

Move and Repeat

2010-08-24T09:42:00.000-07:00

Move and Repeat
by Fordy, Doghouse

In this exercise, the first person write a four-line stanza. The second person will take the second line of that stanza and use it as the first line of the second four-line stanza and write three new lines for it. Each person will continue taking the second line of the previous stanza and using it as the first line in a new four-line stanza.

****************************************

Summer is here, And the sun is shining,
Sand at the beach is warm and golden,
Once long ago, for your love I was pining,
To you no longer, am I beholden

Sand at the beach, was warm and golden
Winter's set in, covering all with frost,
Passion has faded, no longer do you embolden,
What once was so special, is long gone and lost

Winter's departed, taking all the frost,
Spring has arrived, flowers in bloom,
Eyes afire, dazzling smile; with a look you accost,
Drawn to you I am; my heart you exhume.

Spring has arrived, flowers in bloom,
the days are longer the sun rules the sky.
But I still long for the early sunset gloom
You could ask me to explain but I won't tell you why.

Write a Shortie

2010-08-24T09:38:00.000-07:00

Write a "Shortie"
by Doghouse, Fordy

A "shortie" here is a piece of writing that's 100 words or less.

Here are the guidelines:

The theme: Journalism.

The limit: 100 words or less.

The prompt: Real news is everywhere and it’s often depressing. Create some fake news using one of the topics below or one of your own. Funny or serious, your choice.

Suggested news topics:
Unusual weather, Amazing scientific breakthrough, Cat stuck in tree, New continent discovered, Library scandal.

****************************************

"Novel Crime"

Criminal investigators are currently looking into a reported case of theft from the Minneapolis Public Library after a book was reported missing last Friday. The missing title, “Love Buzz: Soul of the Honeybee”, a collection of poems by local author, I. Ben Stung was last seen by librarian aide Catherine “Cat” A. Logger during her routine daily afternoon shelving.

“I loaded the book on the cart myself” Logger said. “But when I went to put it on the shelf it was gone. Taken.”

This is not the first missing book reported at the new downtown library. Library officials refused comment.

****************************************

"Weather"

Meteorologists are at a loss to explain the recent deluge of sunshine hitting the city. "They told me when I first moved here that it would rain for 8 months straight, and now here we are in Mid-March and it hasn't rained in weeks. What am I going to do with all of these umbrellas?" local merchant, Ray Needai complained.

The current sunny weather is expected to last into next week, when it could potentially level off into seasonal norms.

Can You Tell Your Life Story In Exactly Six Words?

2010-08-24T09:35:00.000-07:00

Can You Tell Your Life Story In Exactly Six Words?
by J.Elizabeth, Marie, Fordy

Once asked to write a full story in six words, legend has it that novelist Ernest Hemingway responded: "For Sale: baby shoes, never worn."

*************************

Some days suck, others are better!

I should have been a blond.

I'm smarter than the average bear.

The Evil of Dorcas Goodvoiceflute and Libby Cluck

2010-08-24T09:19:00.000-07:00

From Buffs - The Evil of Dorcas Goodvoiceflute and Libby Cluck
by Fordy, Susan, Craig, Sue

This started on one email list as a passing joke between Moderator's in the Spoiler-verse, we just forwarded it to EC-S and continued it a little further.

******************

"Mua ha ha" Dorcas GoodvoiceFlute laughed maniacly to herself. "My nemesis Libby Cluck will rue the day he chose to cross me." With a flourish she finished her letter:

Dear Dictator Cluck,

Cluck you!

The Revolution Awaits!

~Dorcas Goodvoiceflute, Leading revolutions since 1961

That will put him in his place. THinking he can charge in and take over my domain. I've been cultivating my evil plots for the last five years, and I won't let him think he can usurp my plans of world domination. My minions are ripe and ready.

*****************

Libby Cluck fumed as he read the latest missive from Dorcas. Who did this upstart think she was. He had watched in horror as she built up her power-base, and as he realized her plans for global domination he had an idea of how he could turn this to his use. First he had to rile her up, and if he blind-copied her minions, perhaps they'd assume he was all about the peace and the love - leaving them ripe for his leadership.

Dear Dorcas,

I think you are confused. It is you who is the dictator. Dr. Cluck has no interest in ruling over all of spoilerville- he is a man of and for the people. It is his mission to prevent your dictatorship from growing even further and to enlighten the people about the evil that is the reign of Dorcas. So say we all.

Namaste,
Libby Cluck, Ph.D, M.D.,D.O, D.M.D, D.O.A

******************

Meanwhile in his secret lair, Fordy the Fordinator of Light (he'd recently been promoted from "Forderama of Exorcism" by The Powers That Be), planned on how best to save the spoiler-verse, and the world from dominion by these two very evil, noxious villains. He'd already managed to rescue Spoiler-Queen Erish from their mad quests for power, but for her to remain safe she had to remain hidden (occasionally sending secret codes to her followers through the facebook interface). With a heavy sigh he sat down at the terminal. At least he had Good and Right on his side, more than could be said of the fascists he was commissioned to battle.

******************

It was time for Fordy to call in his crack-team of trained femme-fatales ... Fordy's Angels. They could sweep in and also help to undermine the evil plots of Dorcas and Libby. It was only the cream-of-the-crop of the Fordy Girls that were promoted to Fordy's Angels.

Alas and unbeknownst to Fordy, there was much dissension amongst his Angels. Each believed she was Fordy's favorite, yet each didn't know that he harbored a secret affection for one who was not yet an angel. Perhaps a demon, but not an angel. What was Fordy to do?

He couldn't betray his Angels for fear that they would turn on him and choose the path of righteousness that Libby Cluck offered them. So he pined away in secret, hoping one day his secret demon love would love him back. Who was that demon? Ah, a secret so deeply buried that only one had that knowledge. For only Fair Queen Erish knew the truth,and she was not about to reveal all until such time as served her purpose. So Fordy sulked back to his Angels and bravely asked their assistance.

*****************

Little did Fordy know that Dr. Cluck had recently kidnapped the Angels to a remote island in the south Pacific. As Fordy tried to call the Angels on the speakerphone at Fordy headquarters, the phone rang repeatedly. "Where are those Angels? They are supposed to be at my beck and call!" Fordy fumed to himself.

Meanwhile on a remote island in the south Pacific, the Angels were sitting on the beach and wondering where their drinks were....

*****************

"This is Agent Chienmaison, IMOM reporting in. Apparently there's trouble afoot in the Spoiler-Verse. Someone's getting ready to make a grab for power, I'm just not sure who ..."

*****************

Susan laughed maniacally. With all of the snow she had accumulated she was reayd to put her plan in action. She would freeze out New York and Libby Cluck, she had her turbo-powered snow-blower set-on "Destroy". Now she would blow all the snow from Iowa, leading to an early spring; a spring without ice cleats!

*****************

To be Continued .... ???

Story Starter - Writing Prompt

2010-08-24T09:16:00.000-07:00

Writing Prompt
by Fordy, Marie

This started with a writing prompt of the first sentence. It never really went anywhere, and never generated a lot participation ...

She SO did not want to be here, especially when . . .

... he was here too, watching her from across the room. And the asshole had the nerve to give her that self-satisfying smug look. Randy knew his presence at the wedding would bother his ex-girlfriend, Amanda, but he had to see her one more time.

Things had ended so badly between them, he needed her to understand. It wasn't his fault. He would make her understand one way or another.

Amanda turned to Mike, who had been sitting beside her oblivious to the turmoil raging inside of her. "Mike, I hate to impose, but could you ..."

" ... just stay with me. Randy's over there, and did you see that look he gave me? And he's got something under his coat ..."

Randy glanced in Amanda's direction and saw her discussing something serious with Mike. What was he thinking coming here? He knew it was hopeless, but he felt he had no choice.

Alphabet Game - #2

2010-08-24T09:13:00.001-07:00

Alphabet Game
by Fordy, Doghouse, Craig, JoLayne, J. Elizabeth, Sue, Marie

We have done somehting like this before, but why not recycle it. Each sentence has to start with the next letter of the alphabet. (The first sentence would start with A, the second with B, the third with C and so on).

Ashamed, he quietly turned and fled the scene.

Before he knew it, the police were chasing after him.

Can’t anyone take a joke anymore?

"Dammit", he thought as he heard the police behind him, "apparently not".

Embarassed, he realized he had left his pants at the scene of the crime.

Fred was not trying to offend anyone.

"Great", Fred said aloud scaring the dog that was sniffing the heel of his shoe. "Now what do I do, go back for the pants or run the risk of offending the line of ladies waiting to get into Annie's Tea Room?"

Hearing the handcuffs the police officer removed from his belt, Fred turned around and smiled at the officer. "I don't suppose you'd let me go back for my pants"?

"I don't think so, bub, but I do have a pair of pantyhose in the cruiser I'm more than happy to loan you.”

Jail wasn't so bad the last time, Fred thought to himself. It is certainly better than Annie's tea room!

Keenly aware that he was in danger of showing his bits to the ladies in line, Fred backed slowly towards the officer. "I'm ready...let' s go. Can we stop at Burger King on the way? I am starving."

"Let's go", the police officer said as he grabbed Fred and put him in the police cruiser, all the while thinking that he could go for a nice, juicy Whopper.

Manacled to the back seat of the cruiser, Fred summoned the dark, supernatural powers of his mind and used them to take control of the police officer's body.

Nora, annoyed because Fred was late meeting her at Annie’s Tea Room once again, flipped her cell phone open and droned, “Have you heard from him?”

Outside Annie's Tea Room the forces of the dark had gathered in response to Fred's telepathic summons and gazed hungrily at Nora.

"Please Fred, enough of your forces of dark. What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?" Nora glared irritaded at Fred's gathered forces of dark.

"Quiet, bitch, your henpecking days are numbered" Fred growled a smile, displaying his new dark magic-enhanced canines. Something about tasting her fear were the last words Nora heard before she felt Fred's teeth sink into her throat. She would have screamed if she still had a larynx.

Ray (the police officer), snapped back to reality, "What the hell had this naked guy done to him?", glancing at Fred, he noticed he appeared to be drooling from his mouth; as if he was in some other-worldly feeding.

Suddenly Ray the Police Officer felt afraid. Very afraid.

To be continued ... ????

Alphabet Game

2010-01-27T10:21:00.000-08:00

Alphabet Game
by Fordy, Doghouse, Susan, JoLayne, J. Elizabeth, Sue, Marie

Each sentence has to start with the next letter of the alphabet. (The first sentence would start with A, the second with B, the third with C and so on).

"Amazing!" Beatrice thought to herself, as she surveyed the view spread before her.

Behind her stood Carl and Deborah, rolling their eyes at her melodramatic ravings.

"Couldn't they understand," Beatrice thought to herself?

"DOW's back over 7,000 again," Deborah pointed out. “So? We have a long way to go.”

"Even with the Dow rising we still need money and we need it fast if we're gonna carry through with our original plans," muttered Carl.

"For God's sake, Bea," Deborah exclaimed. "Put your iphone away and focus." She looked at Carl's checklist. "Carl? Why do we need a gun?"

"Gun, uh, ummm ... What gun? This gun. Umm, uh, I don't know how it got here..." Carl stammered.

"How dare you lie to me?", Deborah spat and turned to the window and watched the street below.

Ichabod looked at the three of them and thought, "I have to save Humanity with this lot?"

"Just my luck", Ichabod thought as he stubbed out his cigarette and stood to face the room and give the three of them the bad news that would change their lives forever.

"Knives! Duck!", yelled Carl before Ichabod could say more.

Long before any of them could move, a duck holding razor sharp knives flew in through the window and stabbed Carl in the right eye. Deborah screamed and held her hands over her face as the duck flew around the room and back out the window.

Meanwhile, in another location an ancient darkness stirred, "My Mallard of Doom has drawn first blood! Mua ha ha ha!"

"North, you idiot, I told you to fly NORTH and kill, you limp-beaked bastard!", the Ancient Darkness cursed in ancient darkness.

"Obviously we're going to need this," Beatrice mumbled as she pried Carl's Glock from his cold, dead hand.

"Pass me the Saber Saw. We are going to need that too."

"Quite the pleasure device you have there, Ichabod", Deborah said huskily, "but shouldn't we remove the blade before we, you know?"

"Right, I guess... but that sounds boring to me," Ichabod smirked.

"Seriously you two, now is not the time," Beatrice said with resolve, "Carl lies dead not two feet from you, we must formulate a plan and take action!"

"That's it, you're not the boss of me, I'm leaving!" Ichabod screamed.

"Until we know for sure what is outside of these doors, no one crosses that threshold," Beatrice said to Ichabod.

"Voltex Industries," Deborah exclaimed excitingly, pointing out the window at a large van pulling into the parking lot of the Bellagio Hotel.

"Xavier!" She yelled, looking back at Ichabod and Beatrice, "Xavier is driving the van!"

"You have got to be kidding me!" Ichabod remarked, "Has he infiltrated them, or has he turned Benedict? All of our preparations could be for naught!"

"Zig zag all you want, Ichabod. I think everyone in this room knows who the real infiltrator is!"

"Alright! Alright! I admit it. It has been me! Me! this whole time," Ichabod laughed with an evil glint in his eye.

"BASTARD!" Deborah snarled, "And to think what I almost did with your .... saber saw!"

"Carl probably knew about you working with the Ancient Darkness," Beatrice accused, raising the gun to Ichabod's forehead.

"Did you kill him thinking we'd never figure that out?"

"Everyone knew the truth.. you were all just hiding from it" Icabod said,scornfully.

"Frak that Ichy!" Beatrice snarled, "you turned traitor for your own glory, thinking you'll be able to carve out a name for yourself under the totalitarian regime of the Ancient Darkness; you fail to realize that he wants destruction for everyone, including his boot-lickers!!!"

"God Bea, it's always the same conspiracy crap with you isn't it! Get a grip. And quit calling me Ichy!" Ichabod snarled right back!

"Holy Hell Ichy! Pull yourself together. There is a massive conspiracy going on and you need to realize it." Beatrice rubbed the back of her hand against her forehead.

Ichabod saw his chance and grabbed the gun from her hands and wrestled her to the floor.

Jarred by the impact of Beatrice hitting the floor, an antique porcelain vase tottered and fell off the counter catching Ichabod in the back of the head.

"Keystone Kops if ever I've seen them," a voice intoned as the door opened. Xavier entered and purveyed the scene before him.

Laughter, a deep menacing laughter, echoed through the room; filling our intrepid heroes with a foreboding doom.

"M...m... maggots?" Xavier cried as he backpedaled to escape the room and flee from the billions of wiggling larvae, some as large as two feet long, and all looking toward the now open door.

Noting Xavier's apparent discomfort at the squirming larve, Ichabod chuckled to himself. "If you are afraid of those small creatures, wait to see what I have planned for you next," he sneered.

“Oy vey! I didn’t sign up for this!” Deborah intoned.

“Pray you don’t look like lunch,” the menacing voice bellowed.

"Quickly everyone! If we don't act now all will be lost."

"Run all you want; it will do no good." Ichabod intoned, as he surveyed the scene. Carl's lifeless body still lay in the corner, Xavier quivered in fear and disgust at the door, Beatrice sat stunned on the floor not 2 feet from him; but where had Deborah gotten to?

"Saw this!!!" deborah cried as she lunged at ichabod with the saber saw, severing his head from his body.

Thunk, Ichabod's head hit the floor.

"United, we must be united; it's our last chance!" Beatrice wimpered as she slowly rose to her feet.

Valiant is how they felt! Nothing could stop them now!

Wonderous was their feeling of pride.

"Xinjiang, Xinjiang China is where we shall go!" Deborah then shouted!

"You're out of your mind!", Beatrice said. "Zimbabwe, maybe?"

And so it goes...... The End.

"but ... But was Ichabod the Ancient Darkness or his minion? We thought he was on our side, and he wasn't; what were we trying to accomplish?"

"Close your eyes and try not to think on it too much."

"Dammit - I want answers, and a conclusion. All these plot threads dropped for convenience, I don't understand" Deborah wailed.

"Enough! It was a metaphorical fight against the evil that threatens to consume us all. By stopping Ichabod, and standing up for justice and mercy and compassion we vanquished the Ancient Darkness for another day."

"Finshed then? it's all finished, and we can attempt to start anew?"

"Gads - that's what I've been telling you,"

"Honestly, I'm still a little confused - what about the crow?"

"I'm telling you - it was a manfestation of the evil inherent in mankind's collective soul. We stood against it, and in that act alone we won."

"Just standing up to it brought us victory?"

"Kind of."

Light surrounded them, as if a switch had been thrown.

"My my, what did I miss?" Carl asked!"

"Nyah!" Deborah excalimed, "Your Dead!!!!"

"Obviously, with the Ancient Darknesses power vanquished, the evil he commited is undone; and Carl lives again!"

"Please don't go into more of this; my head is spinning, I don't understand ..."

"Quiet, you'll give yuorself an anuerism trying to puzzle it all out."

"Really what you're saying is if we think of it as a shared hallucination we'll be able to move on with our lives, as opposed to pondering the unrealness of the entire event?"

"Seriously though, I think the memories of the last few weeks will fade over time; and it will all seem a dream."

"Think about it though, we were drawn from our seperate lives into this whole thing; and now if our memories fade, will that sever the relationships we've forged in this endeavor?"

"Unfortunately I'm sure that will be a side-effect ....." Beatrice trailed off.

"Very well then, my newly found and soon to be lost friends, fair thee well."

"Well then, I guess this is goodbye."

Xenon gases appeared to gather and shimmer in the air as the party said their goodbyes and went thier seperate ways.

"You may have defeated me this time, but there will be new champions and other battles ..." the Ancient Darknesses voice whispered into the night.

Ze End!

Merry Christmas EC-Spoilers

2010-01-27T10:10:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas EC-Spoilers
by Fordy

Twas the Night Before Christmas, And all through the list
Gearing up for Holiday Cheer, making sure nothing was missed,

Susan in Iowa, boxed up some snow,
To Doghouse she sent it, all wrapped with a bow.

Elizabeth got some tinsel, and spread it with care,
For Semaht was coming, with eggnog to share,

Rowan sends greetings from New Zealand to us,
Marie's getting someone else to drive the bus,

Jo and her cows, dressed up all festive,
Garvis sends greetings that are a little suggestive,

Lissa called Santa, to ensure he was on time,
JoLayne under the mistletoe, kissed a French Mime

Sue hung the stockings, some here and some there,
Janet brought the wreathes, all decorated with flair

Brian made snowmen, cluttering the yard
Fordy says Merry Christmas, though he's not much of a bard!

Roses Are Red - Summer 2009

2010-01-27T09:52:00.000-08:00

Another Roses Are Red Poem/Conversation
by: Fordy, Doghouse, Marie

Roses are red, violets are blue,
the temp today is supposed to be 92.

Roses are red, sunscreen and shades I bought 'em,
but I really can't wait, for the cool days of autumn.

Roses are red, it's the second day of summer.
The heat wave's continued, My thought? That's a bummer.

Roses are red, as people cool off in the lake
I really wouldn't mind seeing a nice cool snowflake.

Roses are Red, And you're not too bored
I thought original posted to Blah, So poem was left, ignored

Roses are red, The sun is finally shining
Time to frolic in the sun, Quit your whining

Roses are red, when the weather's this ripe
I like doing nothing more than bitch and gripe.

Roses are red, I'm not too proud to say
weather this muggy just shouldn't be allowed.

Roses are Red, Rain Falls from the sky,
No lake on the weekend, Until the clouds go goodbye

Roses are red, Criminals are violent
Why is everyone else in the group, Staying so silent?

Roses are red, I don't like to cuss
but I want to know D.A., where is my bus?

Roses are red, I don't know what DA's done with the bus,
but while we wait we can watch Desperado with Antonio Banderas.

Roses are red, to answer DA: I don't know why.
The only thing I can think is everyone's shy.

Roses Are red, And I must confess,
After that party, I made a bit of a mess.

Roses are red, The mess was concealed,
I gave it to Otto And hid it in Springfield

Roses are red, violets are blue
everything's been said, so this poem is now through.

Roses are red, before I hit 'send'
I just wanna add ...The End

Fictional News

2010-01-27T09:45:00.000-08:00

One idea tossed around was to make up a fictional news-story. In response to a comment in our very own blog from "Danny Gokey - Doghouse's #1 fan". JoLayne and Doghouse took up this challenge.

**********************************************************************************

AP Wire – from 2 minutes ago Allison, the future Season Eight Idol Winner, was furious when it came to light that her rival, Danny Gokey, not only think he will be the season’s Idol winner, but is also Doghouse’s number one fan. “I can’t believe he would say that, let alone post it in a blog. And two months ago… what an ego. I’M Doghouse’s number one fan and two months ago on Idol there was Lil, Anoop, tattoo girl, and Matt. Tough competition. Danny’s lucky to even still be on the show, let alone the Winner.” She continued, “To be Doghouse’s number one fan, you have to yell Arf Arf! There wasn’t one Arf in his whole blog.”

Attempts to reach Danny Gokey at the Idol mansion were unsuccessful. AP helicopters, circling the grounds for a shot of the husky-throated warbler did manage to capture footage of Adam Lambert and Chris Allen comforting Allison, who was unfairly voted out of last night’s Idol telecast, as she packed her bags.

TMZ reports that Britney Spears has been staking out the Idol mansion in search of a man who can actually sing.

Two Word Chapters

2009-03-18T15:08:00.000-07:00

Two Word Chapters
By Qbryzan, Fordy, Susan, Doghouse, Enyajo, Garvis, Jo, Sue, Tina, and J. Elizabeth

The rules are simple: each person adds a chapter to the story, but each chapter must be 2 words long, no more, no less.

Chapter 1:Villain enters.
Chapter 2:Villain sneers.
Chapter 3:Jane screams.
Chapter 4:Alex turned...
Chapter 5:Phone rings
Chapter 6:Lightning flashes.
Chapter 7:Floor creaks.
Chapter 8:Mom called.
Chapter 10"Come home!!!!"
Chapter 11Phone Dies!
Chapter 12Villain laughs.
Chapter 13:Jane cries!
Chapter 14Alex faints
Chapter 15:Villian grunts...
Chapter 16:Where's Chapter9
Highly anticipated Chapter 9:Time Travel
Chapter 17:Alex moans.
Chapter 18:"Not Again!"
Chapter 19:"Surprised, Alex?"
Chapter 20:"Go AWAY"
Chapter 21:"Try again."
Chapter 22:"Pretty Please"
Chapter 23:"No way."
Chapter 24:"Why not?"
Chapter 25Frosted Flakes
Chapter 26:Sunrise. Rain.
Chapter 27:Foggy. Cold.
Chapter 28:"Alex?" "ALEX?"
Chapter 29"You .... Jane?"
Chapter 30:Pants: Where?
Chapter 31:Moon shines.
Chapter 32:"Hmmm... impressive!"
Chapter 33:"You like?"
Chapter 34:"You bet!"
Chapter 35:"Wanna touch?"
Chapter 36:"Maybe later."
Chapter 37:"Not now?"
Chapter 38:"Too hungry."
Chapter 39:"Wanna eat"?
Chapter 40:"Whatcha got?"
Chapter 41:"Olive pizza!"
Chapter 42:"You serious?"
Chapter 43:"Oh yeah!"
Chapter 44:Jane talking?
Chapter 45:Or villain?
Chapter 46:Pizza scary?
Chapter 47:Not villian.
Chapter 48:Maybe Alex?
Chapter 49:Let's listen.
Chapter 50:"Alex, hun?"
Chapter 51:"Yes, dear."
(Chapter 52:It's Alex!)
Chapter 53:"Do you . . . "
Chapter 54:"Smell something?"
Chapter 55:"Yes, it's . . ."
Chapter 56:"Is it. . . "
Chapter 57:"Fire. FIRE!"
Chapter 58:"Save yourself!"
Chapter 59:"I'll die."
Chapter 60:"Are you...?
Chapter 61:"Serious? Yes."
Chapter 61:"You can't!"
Chapter 62:"Why not?"
Chapter 63:"Because I..."
Chapter 64:"You what?"
Chapter 65:"Love you!"
Chapter 66:"Really? REALLY??"
Chapter 67:"Yes. Somewhat."
Chapter 68:"Now what?"
Chapter 69:"Marriage. Children."
Chapter 70:"That's it?"
Chapter 71:"What else."
Chapter 72:"Matching tattoos."
Chapter 73:"I'm allergic."
Chapter 74:"To tattoos?
Chapter 75: "To you."
Chapter 76:"TO ME?"
Chapter 77:"Well, uh."
Chapter 78:"The marriage?"
Chapter 79:"It's off."
Chapter 80:"Your love?"
Chapter 81:"For you?"
hapter 82:"Yes, duh."
Chapter 83:"It's forever."
Chapter 84:"Then it's?"
Chapter 85:"Yes, goodbye."<>
Chapter 86:"What's wrong?"
Chapter 87:"Oh, nothing."
Chapter 88:"You know..."
Chapter 89:"Yes? what?"
Chapter 90:"We'll always..."
Chapter 91:"Have Paris?"
Chapter 93:"Well, yes."
Chapter 92:"How cliche."
Chapter 93:"I'm sorry."
Chapter 94:"Leave now."
Chapter 95:"Breakup sex?"
Chapter 96:"Fuck you."
Chapter 97:"That hurt."
Chapter 98:"Too bad."
Chapter 99:"Fire's out."
Chapter 100:"Who cares."
Chapter 101:No Tattoos?

New Poem - No Zombies Allowed!

2009-03-18T14:58:00.000-07:00

New Poem - No Zombies Allowed! by Susan, Fordy, Doghouse, Enyajo, Tina

It was a cold day in Iowa,
A little snow landed on my just washed car,
And a wet day in BC,
At least all the snow is gone, au revoir,
And a day of flurries in Minnesota,
Snow everywhere you look, near and far,
Twas to get up to 37 today,
But at 25, it seemed to stay.
Not to change the subject and not to talk about a quota,
but we've got two people here from here from thegreat state of Minnesota!
Ah... to be in Iowa, you both are known to dream
But sad you are not cool enough to live where the grass is always green.
Life's a balance, sometimes one gives, sometimes one takes,
but we live in the land of 10,000 plus lakes!
Home of Norm Coleman, and that's a fact.
Now that's a Minnesotan who is really whacked!
Enoguh of these States, I'm taking a stand,
Let's talk more of Canada, a land that's Truly Grand!
Where a polygamist was arrest for having 19 wives,
Poor Lil; Fordy is now feeling deprived.
Back to Norm Coleman, he's whacked, yes, it's felt,
but putting him in rhyme is hitting below the belt!
\Said belt is prepared for Childress, standing proud and tall
Attempting to rationalize to press why they dropped the ball.
I had to Google Childress because I am out of the 'Sota loop
Time to get a new coach, one who isn't such a dupe.
Enough of the weather, Enough of this Fluff,
Let's talk TV and movies, and other important stuff
TV you say, oh my what is that?
I can surf all 400 channels in 60 seconds flat.
400 channels and still nothing to view
for more than a minute or two
Two more weeks for the show called Lost,
'til that time I shall get sauced
Hope we see a certain statue's four toes
I wonder where the Island goes?
I heard somewhere it's displaced in time,
I bet the O6 hunt for it will lead to crime.
Well Sayid, the assassin is now involved
The mysteries might yet get solved.
Four toes, five toes or even the whole hoof,
it's too late now 'cuz my TV's Lost-proof.
Ane while I have a sec I wanna go back to Brad
and say the way you coach the Vikes is bad, bad, bad.
I'm tired of the coach thinking he's Hoss
I long for the days of Culpepper-Moss.
Randy Moss was alright, a pretty high stepper,
but I'll pass on the second, you can keep Culpepper.
More sports talk, which is all meaningless to me,
Lets' talk about Rock Band, and other games for my Wii!
We don't all have a Wii so are you telling us it's all about you?
This is something we'll have to work through!
Wii you say, who cares I don't For Lost is the only thing to discuss
The time of the year to revel and dream
Of the many scenes and plot twists to make us scream
With delight and Aha's finally we know
Answers to questions that began long ago
We will get some answers, I do pray
January 21st, yes that is THE DAY
Will the flashes be back or flashes forward?
Not one single nugget have I heard.
It's refreshing to be spoiler free
Shocked and awed by the finale
Questions are tricky
Lost fans are picky
Darlton, don't be pokey,
Just what the heck is smokey?
You Lost fans are fanatics, that much we know,
I just want the dish on that missing concrete toe.
And when they're all done playing in those Lost island spas
does anyone think they'll bring back Adebisi from Oz?
Fanatics galore and theories abound
Richard Alpert's toe is concrete bound

No Zombies Allowed

2009-03-18T14:55:00.000-07:00

No Zombies Allowed
by Fordy, Susan, Doghouse, and Garvis

No Zombies allowed!
Not alone, and not in a crowd!
Not on a boat, Or riding a goat.
Not in a train, Not eating brains?

Not in his FTLs or even his Hanes.
Not if they're nuts or munching guts?
Especially not if they're noshing cerebral cold cuts!

No tales of the undead to be told,
It leaves Suzie Q, witha feeling of dread, out in the Cold,
Worried that people who are coming, are full of growing mold.

I Have a Secret

2009-03-18T14:49:00.000-07:00

I HAVE A SECRET
This exercise is ideal for writing groups, but can be done with as few as two people. By exchanging secrets, fiction writers are prompted to explore a topic they may not have considered otherwise.

Here's How: Each writer should take out a piece of paper.Write down one secret and fold the paper up.Put all of the secrets in a hat, box, or other container.Each person draws a secret. Use the secret you receive as a jumping-off point for your short story.

by Fordy, Doghouse, and Marie

***
I was riding the subway, minding my own business. I hate rush hour! Damn train is always over-full. We're packed like sardines in a tin can. Damn city! I stood up to offer my seat to a young pregnant woman, when some punk sits right down.
"Buddy! have some class," I retort. "What happened to manners?"
The punk looks at me with a steely gaze. "Fuck You!" he sneers, as he turns away. Punks! This whole misbegotten generation, it's the downfall of all society. The train continues to roll-along.
At each stop people get off, and more people get in. One classless slob after another. When did I become such a pillar of society? I may have sometimes been an asshat to get to my position, but I at least maintained the illusion of manners and class. As I continue to muse on the sins of this latest generation, I start to feel an itch in my nose. A maddening itch. That appears to grow worse as it continues.
Damn Allergies! I knew I should've taken a claritan this morning. Ever so subtle I rub my hand along the outside of my nose to try to relieve the itch. ACK! It's just gotten worse. What to do? How can I relieve it, without picking my nose on this crowded train? A tic-tac! I can take a tic-tac, and while I'm shaking the tic-tac into my mouth, I can get a 'scratch' in. I fumble in my pockets, for my tic-tacs. Quickly! Before the itch gets any worse.
At last, relief is a mere moment away. As I bring the tic-tac container up to my face, I feel a sneeze start working it's way through my nasal cavaity. NO! Not when relief is only a moment away. Please, not know. I muffle the sneeze as best I can; but a little booger flew out of the itching nostril ... right into the tic-tac tumbling into my mouth. Gack! I almost choked. Oh God! Did anyone see? Does anyone know? My face is flush with embarrasment. I can't let anyone know that I ate a booger.

***

Ghosts don't frighten me. It's not like I walk around chanting the Cowardly Lion's mantra of believing in ghosts all day, but I don't buy into that whole ghost thing.
My grandfather died on my 37th birthday. I had gone out after work that day and I got home a little later than usual and I was a little worried because my grandfather would always call me on my birthday and I didn't want to miss the call. It wasn't a big deal really because I could always call him back, but there was a certain thrill to picking up the phone and hearing his voice on the other end saying, "Hello, son. Happy birthday.", and after all these years it was almost a ritual and I didn't want to break it. I tossed down my jacket and checked the answering machine. No blinking light there so that was good news. I relaxed a little bit and started to make some dinner.
My grandfather and I were always very close. He was a wholesale floor covering salesman and he spent most of his days out on the road traveling a region selling linoleum. About a week and a half a month he'd spend in town on paperwork. The story is that he was out of town the week I was born and the night before my mother went into labor he came home because he had the feeling he was needed.
The expected phone call didn't come during dinner and I shrugged it off with the thought that he'd probably fallen asleep and grandma didn't want to wake him up right away. He'd just gotten out of the hospital two weeks prior to my birthday after hurting his knee in a fall and they kept him for a few extra days to monitor his irregular heartbeat so I could understand why he might be napping. Still it was strange. It was a break in the ritual and it made me uncomfortable.
At 6:40 the phone rang. I had dozed off myself and I jumped awake and grabbed it on the first ring, a little muddy-headed, but happy that he was calling. The call was from my mother. Her voice was strange and I couldn't make out what she was saying. I asked her what she said and I could feel her breath on the other end of the phone. "My father's dead", she said.
I could say that I knew exactly when he died but that would make a short story that's gone on too long even longer. Yes, my grandfather and I were always very close. Despite the fact that he's been gone now for all these long years, we're still close. Birthdays are a little different now, but he still wishes me a happy birthday every year. Sometimes I even talk to him about things that are on my mind and I ask for his advice and once in awhile, not always, I get it. My grandfather and I are still close because I've been seeing the ghost of a 70 year old man for over ten years.

***

When I was young I never thought my father would get old. What did I know? People get old and they die. I should know. My beloved grandfather died at the age of 70. I miss him daily even though it has been many, many years.
I have been caring for my ill father for 10 years now. I love my father and would do anything for him. We have spent countless hours reminiscing about old times. I loved the days we could just sit with each other and be together. I could listen to the stories about my fathers childhood forever if given the chance.
My father is not doing well. I am losing part of him everyday. I have started to organize the house to occupy my time lately. I find that my father can no longer sit and talk with me about the past like he once did. This makes me sad but I have found going through my father things is almost like taking a walk through the past.
I sat down next to my fathers bed with all the old photographs of people long gone, of myself as a baby, of people I will never know and of those who I knew well but have gone. I took my time with each picture, remembering how things use to be. This makes me happy and sad all at the same time. I picked up a particular picture of my grandfather taken at the end of his life. The picture was taken on his 70th birthday just a month before his death. Such a handsome face at one time but in the picture, the signs of age and illness are very easily seen. As I sat and looked at this picture I realized I have seen that face recently. I looked at my father and realized that I have been seeing the ghost of a 70 year old man for over ten years.

***

Haiku Anyone

2009-03-18T14:37:00.000-07:00

Haiku Anyone
by Fordy, Melody, Sue, Marie, J. Elizabeth, Tina and Celt

Silence Reigns in group,
Perhaps this prompts,
CreativeJuices to flow free?

Ginny was my cat
She has crossed the rainbow bridge
May she rest in peace

My condolences,
Heartfelt, extended to you
your heart, She remains

Roses are red, Violets are blue
I'm rather irked today, How about you?

Roses are red, dead flowers are black
I am in agreement with you, My mood is no better

Roses are red, Our days is crap
Let's wander around looking, for someone to slap!!!

Roses are red, That could take awhile
My boss' day present, just made me smile!

Roses are red, I am off to drive
At least my kiddos, keep me nice

Roses are red, Man was it hot today!
90 degrees is way to hot!! It's October, not May

Oh how my head aches
Give me some aspirin to
get rid of the pain

Roses and Violets
Haiku or Not to Haiku
Poetry is Poetry

The snow falls gently
Covering all it touches
The world is reborn

Naughty limericks
Or verse with rhyme and meter
Please more than Haiku
Or so you would think
In our Western love of rhyme
Instead of free verse
Me, I enjoy both
The joy is in crafting words
To paint soul pictures

Kenai squeaks to me
Waits by the door of his cage
To come out to play
Soft and fluffy fur
Ebony eyes full of wonder
Look to me for love
Dear sweet child of mine
Daughter of my heart and soul
Asleep in my arms
Sparkling, cheerful girl
Smiles so wide I just laugh
My heart fills with joy

Obscure Song Re-Write

2009-03-18T14:26:00.000-07:00

Obscure Song Re-Write
by Susan, Fordy, Celt, Doghouse, J. Elizabeth, Marie, and Tina

Rewrite a song. Someone post the first line of a song they know.It might be best that it an obscure song. We take that line andbuild a collaborative poem from it. When it is done we post thelyrics of the original and see how different they are. [The Obscure Song was First of May by Jonathan Coulton]

I woke up this morning
I had a scone and a large house blend
I could barely stand up, baby,
I believe I got the bends!
When a person needs caffeine
Don't give me this decaf crap
To Hades with you Barista,
Do you take me for some kinda sap?
I know it's the bad influences
I've gotta change this circle of friends
Late nights mean morning bites
And it's a cycle that never ends
Give me my Java now! I cry
Withholding it like your love
Your love I can do without
My morning brew I can not
When I got up this morning,
I should have gotten right back into bed.
and slept off this excessive feeling of dread
I mighta killed someone last night baby..But it's all cloudy in my head...
Give me coffee! Give me coffee!
I demand of thee!
But, wait, I can't stay here to drink it,I must flee!
I can hear the sirens, baby,
Oh those coppers are after me.
Oh what did I do in my dream of dreams?
I thought it was not real, who did I kill?
I killed the beggar who was at my door,
He wanted me to let him sleep on my floor
I put him out of his misery
And really just let his soul free
And who could blame me?
No stimulant will help me now,
I needed my fix; now I'm bound for hell,
No coffee lead to mercy killing,
My descent has barely begun,
I'm furtherdownward-spiraling
Maybe I need something a little more strong,
If only I knew where I put my bong
Because that really calms my mood
And then I wouldn't have to think about that dude.
Sprawled out dead across my floor,
I should dump him at the Jersey Shore.
I shouldn'ta smoked that weed, I'm getting too paranoid to think
and the beggar's body is starting to stink.

"And Slowly I Turned ..."

2009-03-18T14:21:00.000-07:00

"And Slowly I Turned ..."

by Doghouse, Susan, Fordy, Marie, and Jo

"And slowly I turned...." and caught my toe on a stupid crack in the pavement and twisted my knee and fell down just as she walked past me. I didn't know what was worse, her and her friends laughing, or the knife-like pain I was suddenly feeling in my left knee.

Then I realized that I recognized that laugh! It was Marie! Laughing at me.! I though wewere friends! In pain, I stretched out my hand.. hoping that she would take it... hoping that she would offer to help me up. Instead she glanced over at April, and the two of them walked away.. laughing... at my expense.

"I'll get them yet." I thought to myself as I rubbed my knee. Who do those two think they are anyway? Laughing at my mis-fortune. What if I'd broken my leg? or hit my head and gone into a coma?

A coma! No one ever thinks about those who fall on daily basis and end up left there, layingon sidewalks in comas! Its a country-wide dilemma. No, no..they just step over them and go about their day.

I slowly picked myself up with these disturbing thoughts running through my head. What if I had fallen into a coma? My will wasn't current and up-to-date - the whore that broke my heart would still get everything. And knowing her she'd authorize to pull the plug in a heart beat, just as long as she could still collect the life insurance. And my goldfish? Who would take care of him? And my apartment? It's a mess, and people would go in and think I lived in filth. Oh the horror of it all. As these morbid scenario's continued to play out, I slowly turned ...

And there in front of me was the answer to all my prayers, my hopes and my dreams! I couldn't believe it. If I had never fallen, I wouldn't have seen it...

Marie approached me, with her hand held out. Still with a sniker on her face, she tried to hide. She helped me up and and dusted me off. Marie is nice after all.

My heart palpitations over those nagging coma thoughts were starting to quiet down a little and despite the burning pain in my knee that maybe wasn't a sprain or twist, but something worse, like undiagnosed disease type or worse, I reached up and took Marie's outstretched hand. As she was slowly pulling me to my feet I saw a shadow move behind her. "Look out, Marie", I shouted.
And she slowly turned . . .

April looked very strange. Not like herself. April was drooling and had turned into a zombie. She reached for Marie and.....

. . . shee let go of my hand and I fell back and banged the back of my head against the pavement and it really hurt but I was thankful that my cap broke my fall and prevented what could have been a catastrophic head injury. I was worrying about the symptoms of a concussion and thinking I might be having some of them right now when April asked Marie why she jumped back so suddenly. "B...b...because you're a ZOMBIE!" "No, Marie, this is just my new Halloween costume! Don't you like it?" Just then a street vendor rounded the corner and . . .

He wanted to know what kind of cap that was that could break a fall like that. Maybe he could make a fortune selling them.

"Can I look at your cap? Did you make it or buy it?" He asked. But I felt dizzy (and a little embarrassed) when I started to explain that I had knitted it myself.

"Yeah, uh, I did, uh, wait, what did you ask?"

It's not that knitting myself a cap was a, well, unmanly, thing to do, but who's ever gonna say that a guy, whoever he is, who knits isn't maybe just a little bit femmy? Not me, which is why I make it a rule to never admit to doing the knitting. Even an excuse that it came from grandma is enough to bring about those looks, so my standard story is that I got it on sale at a camping store and I didn't even know why I had grabbed it today, you know how it is, right?, but this time, because of the dizziness and the knock on the head that hopefully wasn't suddenly bleeding internally right now, it made me tell the truth.

"About the hat. The knitting. That's pretty femmy that you knit, you know?"

"Yeah, it's a long story though and I really don't have a lot of time right now so if you could just give me a hand and help me back up to my feet I'd really appreciate it."

"Will you knit me one?"

Writing Ideas - "Exercise 26"

2009-03-18T14:12:00.000-07:00

A couple of writing prompts posted to the group ...

Writing Ideas - "Exercise 26"

by Marie, Tina, and Sue

Write a short monologue for a person (real or made up) who is extremely unlike yourself. That is, if you are an agnostic, write a monologue for a person who believes literally in the holy book of her or his religion. If you think you could never have an abortion, try writing the thoughts of a woman who thinks she absolutely must have one. Maybe even better, try imagining what it would be like to be desperate and pregnant if you are in real life a man!

********

Hi! I am Chat. Better known as Chatty Cathy. I was once a very popular doll. Little girls just loved me back when I was young. Some little boys loved me too but they never wanted me to tell anyone. I really liked when the boys played with me. I would ask the boys "let's play House?' and they loved that game. That was always fun!

One day my mommy put me in the basement. I must have did something very bad. I told my mommy over and over "I love you! I love you! I love you!", but mommy would not listen. I spent many a lonely nights in the dark, damp, smelly, basement all alone except for Bobo. Bobo was a dog. I would say to Bobo "tell me a story" but Bobo did not talk.

One day it started to rain outside. It rained and it rained and it rained. The water started to come inside my basement. Bobo looked really worried. I knew I would be OK because I know how to swim. Being made of plastic really has it's advatages. I still wanted my mommy. I kept calling for my mommy over and over. "Momma! Momma! Momma! Momma!" I called untill I lost my voice but mommy never heard me. Then the water got in my eyes. I started to go blind. I was really scared now! Just before the last of my sight was taken from me I saw something horrible. Bobo drowned!!!! All I could do is think "I'm sleepy." I just wanted to go to sleep.

Then it stopped raining. Mommy finally come to check on me. Mommy pulled me from the water and dried me off. I tried very hard to tell mommy "please change my dress". Mommy could not understand me at all. Mommy did find me a new dress eventually and I was vey happy.

Now I live in my mommys apartment and not in a basement anymore! Mommy knows my hair is so messy. I try very hard to tell mommy "please brush my hair", but mommy does not hear me. I don't think I will ever get my voice back even though it's been a long time since I almost drowned. I love my mommy!

********

The Decision

What am I going to do? I can't do this. I have worked so hard to earnpartner in my law firm, his job takes him on the road a lot. Weagreed no babies or marriage right now. I'm just not ready for this.After all, it is my body, my final decision. I'll make theapppointment this afternoon. Using my vacation time will give me timeto recover. I can always have a baby later. I'm still young. I justcan't have this baby.

********

I have about had it with the people in this building. They have enforced a non-smoking rule in our building and guess what? All of the smokers now congregate around the ashtrays right outside of the main doors. Now those of us who don’t smoke have to walk through all of these people. Smoking is a disgusting and smelly habit. Don’t these people have any respect for their health and for those of us who have to breathe second hand smoke? The state, or the government for that matter, should enforce a non-smoking law.

Furthermore, cell phones are also are extremely over-used. I am tired of seeing people walking or driving around with that contraption attached to their ears. Don’t they realize that people do not want to hear their personal conversations? Those should be outlawed as well. Why do young kids need them to text their friends? Use a regular phone and talk to each other, or go outside and play!

Written by grouchy, disgruntled employee.

Writing Ideas - "Exercise 30"

2008-09-19T10:48:00.006-07:00

A couple of writing prompts posted to the group ...

By: D.A., and Sue

Writing Ideas - "Exercise 30"

In the photo below, what are the women doing? What are they saying to passers-by? What are they saying to one another? What are they thinking inside themselves?

--------------------

In the photo below, what are the women doing? Protesting the Iraq War

What are they saying to passers-by? Please contact your Senator and give him your thoughts on the war

What are they saying to one another? I hope that someone listens to us.

What are they thinking inside themselves? If only this would bring back our loved ones.

--------------------

"I am not a Slave! I will never Shave!" the Hirsute Harem loudly proclaimed.
(Pictured above, from left to right: Shannon Dungas, Esther Labum, Gertie Gerard, Harriot Funkelstein, and Georgette Kuntey)

Gertie was quiet vehement when planning their afternoon's protest. Despite Esther's objections, Gertie had convinced them all the pose au natural for their protest signs. "We are a work of beauty, with our braided underarm hair, and our sasquatch like legs. We will not conform to some ill-perceived notion of beauty!"

"... but Gertie ... everyone can see my Hoo-ha." Esther stammered nervously.

Shannon shrugged as she continued to paint slogans. She could really care less about the whole group, she was here only for the pot. Primo-killer stuff that Georgette grew on her acreage. (Georgette was actually growing it for the hemp to make clothes for the cities stray cats). She even had a nice little side-line selling it to her parents friends, and had turned a nice little profit.

Harriot wrapped her arms around Esther, "Oh hush dear. It's a beautiful vagina. The birthplace of all life. Nothing to be ashamed of." Harriot was the soul of their group. While Gertie may be the drive and the brains, with her anger against the 'Opressive Patriarchial Society'; Harriot would often with a small nod, and her gentle smile, and the knowing look in her eye remind them why they were all here.

....

--------------------

Writing Ideas - "Exercise 18"

2008-09-19T10:48:00.005-07:00

A couple of writing prompts posted to the group ...

By: D.A., Sue, Doghouse, and Marie

Writing Ideas - "Exercise 18"

Imagine that you are lying in a hammock, gazing up the trunk of tree that holds the hammock. You are profoundly relaxed; summer is almost over. Your mind drifts with the slow rocking of the hammock. Your spirit soars toward the top of the great white pine. Suddenly....

------------------------------------------------

1 .

... a bird poops on my chest. Angry and disgusted, I jump up from the hammock, only to have my feet tangled in it. I twist around and fall to the ground. As I lay there, my cat comes over to investigate what I am doing on the ground. His whiskers tickle my face and makes me laugh.

"Oh Malkie! Stop that!" He defused the situation again so I wouldn't get angry (No one Likes me when I'm Angry!). A God-send really this cat. I can barely remember the darkness before he came. The devastation, the destruction. With those dark thoughts, I gathered myself and went to change.

------------------------------------------------

2.

... a low rumble blots out all noise. BANG! it sounds as if a shot rings out. I jump up and look around. Where did that sound come from?

Just then I smelled an all too familiar smell and remembered what I had for dinner last night. I must have dozed off and when I relaxed . . . oh, curse those onions! I think maybe I'd better go in and take a shower because if I'm not ready at 6:30, then . . .

------------------------------------------------

3.

... my neighbor appears in her living room window naked as the day she was born and from what I can tell with half-closed eyes she seems to be looking directly at me as I slowly rock side to side. Her hands aren't visible below the window sill, but she's rocking at the same speed I am. Do I pretend to be asleep or do I move my head and let her know I see her. I wonder what would happen if...

.. her husband caught me watching her. My mind drifts to his shotgun collection and his "prize" animal heads mounted as trophies on the wall. My fear of her husband is stronger than my desire to watch her. I gently roll off the hammock and move out of the way so I cannot see her anymore. I smile as I know that I have done my good deed for the day.

I walk back to the porch and my smile turns to a sneer when I stop and think about all the times I've heard my neighbor, Mr. NRA himself, screaming at his wife in the middle of the night. Calling her names that made even me blush. No one deserves to be spoken to like that and she certainly doesn't seem the type to rouse that type of anger from anyone. Not to mention the kids who are even closer to it than I am. Maybe this is why it seems like over half of his reclying is beer cans every Tuesday. Yeah, so it's not up to me, but if it were . . .

------------------------------------------------

4.

Damn, a bear must have eaten me after I fell asleep. What a bloody mess down there. So much for my relaxing day in the hammock....

------------------------------------------------

Poetry.Com - Idea

2008-09-19T10:48:00.004-07:00

Poetry.com - Submission Ideas
by: Susan, Sue, and D.A.

After much laughter and ridicule of Poetry.com on the BBB-S list, we decided to try and make a poem on the EC-S list to submit as a group. Though participation was lacking, and a little splintered with several "Starts" to poems ...

Broken.
See the broken dreams by the side of the road.
Discarded and abandoned, my soul about to implode
I sigh as I reach down to pick up a piece of my life.

***

Food.
"Why does it torture me?" I sigh as I eat another piece of cake.
"Stop" I implore, as I continue to partake.
I seem to keep eating putting on pound after pound.

***

(or I'm giving you a hard time ...)

Or maybe it is I giving you a hard time..
The least you could do it write in a rhyme!

I guess that wouldn't be a crime
Perhaps we'll create something that's purely sublime?

I think it's possible... it could be fine!
I hope everyone will submit a line

A Poem - June 2008

2008-09-19T10:48:00.003-07:00

A Poem - June 2008
by: Susan, D.A., Marie, and Doghouse

To get the group moving, Susan started a poem for everyone to contribute to.

I saw you take your last breath,
You last breath while looking at me.
You told me you were blind,
But I know that you could see.

Especially when you flinched,
Everytime you turned your head towards me.
You saw what I had become,
I couldn't live by your decree.

In search of more honest love,
To greener pastures I did flee.
But it alerted the police,
When I shouted for glee

Then I fled like the wind,
I ran so far, so fast so free,
Leaving you and our life,
Like so much cluttered debris

Uninvited, you followed me
Unwelcomed, unwanted, and so lovely
That I didn't think twice,

when I gripped the end of the knife.

Do I listen or do I turn the knife to myself?
But Wait! There is arsenic on the shelf!
A gun in the drawer!
A bullet in silver, ever so pure!
Should I stab, should I shoot,
Or is poison the cure?

My beautiful devil
Do you see me now?
You go ahead and deny it,
You little cow!

"I see you" she exclaimed
"Come home to me"
And I knew I could bear to stay,
She could suck the soul from a flea.

Zombie Story - Back from the Dead - Conclusion

2008-09-19T10:48:00.002-07:00

Zombie Story - Back from the Dead - Part 1

or The Cows Ate the World (?)

And here's the conclusion to this project (one person picked two words to be used, the writer writes something using those words. They then 'tag' the next person with two words tehy must use, and so on and so on)

By (so far): Qbryzan, Sue, Doghouse, Garvis, D.A. and Susan

WORDS: RAGLAN and OSSIFY

"Yes, dear, I love you, too, and I'll meet you at the airport on Friday when your plane lands."

Dr. Frank Sponforth smiled as he set the phone down and thought to himself. "Ah, my wife the journalist lives the life. Last month a trip to the Grand Canyon and now she's off researching Mt Karioi in Raglan, New Zealand. And here I sit in a lab waiting for this bacteria sample to ossify."

Sponforth turned on the radio as he waited.

" . . . from Iowa of uncontrolled zombie activity. No further . . . authorities . . . this time . . . l stay on the air as long as. . . "

Static took the signal and despite his frantic attempts Sponforth was unable to get it back.

"Iowa", he thought. "That's where my brother Randy is. Damn this radio!".

The bell on the agitating dri-bath brought him back to the lab.

"Wait a minute. The bacteria sample in the dri-bath. Could it be? But no, it couldn't. They told me this was a top-level government test to assess developments into treatment for the common cold. Hmm, there's nothing common here at all."

Sponforth grabbed the blood samples just as the lights went and the lab's alarm system came to life.

=====

WORDS: LANA TURNER and BABBLE

"Damn Alarms! They scared me half to death. Any second now I'm going to start to babble like Lana Turner!" Sponforth fumed.

=====

WORDS: BLUDGEON and HIRSUTE

Sponforth ran into his colleagues office. Dr. Malcolm was a highly regarded expert on bacteria, zombies,Iowa and for some unfathomable reason, fishie treats. Malcolm was also short. Very short. And hirsute as well.
"Dr. Malcolm, we have to leave. The alarm is going off, there are zombies in Iowa, I'm babbling like Lana Turner or Tina Turner and dammit I forgot to set the Tivo for Heroes. We have to hurry."

Malcolm stared at him and at the blood samples in Sponforth's hand. He looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearly eight o'clock. If they were going to set that Tivo they would have to leave now. The alarm continued to sound. Malcolm started to hop down off his stool when he remembered something. He grabbed a large hammer he just happened to have sitting by his workstation.

"Follow me," Malcolm yelled to Sponforth as he dashed for the locked cabinet on the other side of the lab. He had kept the hammer close by just in case he ever had to bludgeon a zombie with it, but right now there was a more important task. He swung the hammer, shattering the cheap lock that barred the cabinet doors. He swung open the cabinet and stared at a dwindling supply of fishie treats. "Quick gather these up," he barked.

Sponforth was taken aback by the animalistic tone in Malcolm's voice and stared at him blankly. Malcolm looked back at him and sighed. Sponforth would never be as brilliant as Malcolm was. Malcolm shook his head and looked up at Sponforth. "Don't you understand? Save the fishie treats, save the world."

=====

WORDS: POSTULATE and PRESTIDIGITATION

As I began this story the human race was exhaling its last breath. For awhile there was a spark of hope, a thought that maybe, after all, we'd have the knowledge and wherewithal to band together and pull though. Dr. Malcolm was our last hope as his genius in this area was unequaled. He was close to a cure and hope sprang, but his love for fishie treats was his undoing when he was taken one night three months past as he reached blindly into the cabinet for a fresh box to satisfy his late-night craving.
His last gift to us was that the Roamers not only remain active by night, but can logic and anticipate our actions. I can postulate all night, but to what end? Will anyone remain to read these memoirs? Will the memoirs themselves survive what might be planet earth's final apocalypse? Will I be the last person to utter a rhetorical question? I can only hope, but really, what is hope?

A few of us remain and we camp in the rolling hills of West Virginia. It's not ideal, but the sheep are friendly and what remains of the US Postal Service runs on time. There are hardships for sure as fresh water is scarce and dry cleaners are all but extinct. Last week we lost one of our small band when he demanded that someone take his designer DiGitation shirt to the dry cleaners. "I want my DiGitation shirt cleaned and laundered.", he screamed. He was clearly delusional and we wondered secretly if it wasn't the fever taking him, but we humored him nonetheless while keeping our distance just in case.

"Relax, Julius, the laundries have all been abandoned or burned."
"No. It's not true. I know it's not true."
"I'm sorry."
"But I need them. I need to look good. I have to go into the office and I can't look messy in front of Pam. I need someone to launder and press da Digitation."

He ran off screaming and waving the precious DiGitation over his head and the last we heard from him were his agonized screams echoing off the unforgiving Appalachian foothills.

Things haven't improved in the last few months and we hear them moving closer with each passing day. The sheep have fled and we keep our fires small and try and limit our movements to the night hours, but none of us are hopeful. My only fear now is that when they finally come for me there will be no one left to speak out.

=====

WORDS: THE and END

But then suddenly, as if appearing from no where, a swirl of dust on the road... I swear I could hear some music. Could it be? Are there others? Is this what we have been hoping for? As the swirl of dust got closer.. the music louder... the lyrics more pronounced.

"Well, we live in a trailer
at the edge of town
You never see us
'cause we don't come around.
We got twenty five rifles
just to keep
the population down."

I realized that this might not be the saving grace I had hoped for.

"But we need you now,
and that's why
I'm hangin' 'round.
So you be good to me
and I'll be good to you,"

Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of the driver. Orange. Orange!

"And in this land of conditions
I'm not above suspicion
I won't attack you,
but I won't back you."

It Was! He was Alive! Orange! Cat Hair flying out the window! Dr Malcolm! I couldn't believe it was him! Alive! And Here!

"Yes, that was me with the doves,
setting them free
near the factory
Where you built your computer,
love.
I hope you get the connection,
'cause I can't take the rejection"

He was driving a jeep. As he came out of the dust cloud I could see him better. His vehicle was filled in the back to the top! Oddly it looked like Christmas Ornaments! Could it be! Had be put together the most awesome form of retaliation!

"Well, I'm a barrel of laughs,
with my carbine on
I keep 'em hoppin',
till my ammunition's gone.
But I'm still not happy,
I feel like
there's something wrong."

He pulled up.. and then it became obvious. He had traveled the world, collecting christmas ornaments off the bottoms of peoples christmas trees. He hid them under chairs, all the while redesigning their purpose. Making them in to the ultimate weapon.

"I got the revolution blues,
I see bloody fountains,
And ten million dune buggies
comin' down the mountains.
Well, I hear that Laurel Canyon
is full of famous stars,
But I hate them worse than lepers
and I'll kill them
in their cars. "

We would prevail! We would win! We would bring back humanity!

The End.

Limerick Anyone?

2008-09-19T10:48:00.001-07:00

Limerick Anyone?
by: Celt, Sue, D.A., Doghouse, Misty, Garvis
Spinning out from our “Roses Are Red” discussion/project – We changed gears and attempted Limericks.
This turned into a game which most of the list joined in on.

There once was a group of Hell bent
Doggerel writers whose efforts they sent
To Exquisite Corpse Spoilers
Instead of Pot Boilers
Blame Susan, but she won't repent

There once was a man from Nantucket
Who chanced to meet Hyacinth Bucket
But she said, "It's 'Bouquet',
You must say it that way"
Then he sighed, rolled his eyes
And said "F*** it!"

There once was a group dedicated to prose
Who spent all day goofing on the rose
When that went awry
Celt said "Why don't I
switch to limericks to see where it goes."

There once was a group that existed
For crafting new stories assisted
Not just by sobriety
But by common society
They flourished becoming quite twisted

They once were enticed into writing
Rose poems by Susan, inciting
A marathon session
Of cures for depression
That most of us found quite delighting

Then along came a witch on a mission
This CELT sought to cause a transition
Into limerick writing
But no one was biting
It seems it's hard breaking tradition

So if you still seek to inspire
Or otherwise to light a fire
Under literate butts
If you have the guts
Maybe puns is what you require?

There once was a farm-girl with a dream
Everynight she'd lay awake and scheme
Then one day
We heard her exclaim
These mailing lists will make me scream

I would've responded much sooner
But our internet here seemed to go lunar
I was stuck offline
Listen to me whine
Now it's time to go home for a nooner

Did someone say puns are a'needed?
That thought makes my mind sprout up seeded.
For puns I do love,
beyond and above,
but my mind's blank, have those sprouts all been weeded?

There once was a girl on a farm,
who had two cows both filled with charm.
Both bottle fed calves,
soon their size doubled in half,
they're just healthy, no cause for alarm.

A nooner? You're one lucky guy!
Are the details something you'll supply?
Whether it's noontime or morning or dark
whenever I try lighting a spark,
my luck, well, I've just been bone dry.

There was a gal working in dental
The car she drove was a rental
After reading a while
The EC posts made her smile
And she ended up not going mental

Dear Doghouse if it's not a hastle
You can come to my house for White Castles
We will have fun and play
Forget nooners with DA
Turning pickles into sexy tassels!

Alas there was none to be had
Nooner was only a rhyme, tis sad
Unfortunately it's true
been a while for me too,
If it weren't for my hand I'd go mad

Why D.A. takes "matters" in hand
Is something we all understand
It is such a strain
Mastering our domain
Unless double entendres are banned

Reminds me of a comic I once saw
Who told a Star Wars joke and made me guffaw
He said when Luke lost his hand
He sighed and deadpanned
That he needed a girlfriend now, Ha!

If double entendres are banned
Because of DA's love of the hand
I don't know what I'll do
Cause I use them too
The double entendres not the hands understand.

Hmmm, onion bits strategically placed
suddenly other thoughts now are replaced
with one little bit here
and one on her rear
Oh gosh, now all my thoughts are debased.

Too bad it's been such a slow time.
Going solo some think is a crime.
But you've carried that load
(or maybe let it explode?)
so I'll toast one to you saying L'Chaim! *

There's some stuff you really can't shirk it
And in D.A.'s case he just had to work it
TMI for your brain?
Well then think of the strain
Too much pressure and he might postal clerk it.

There once was a man named DA
who shared "too much" one fine day
bout his need to explode
their mindes in the comode
Did write limericks about it all day.

Roses are Red - Part 2

2008-09-19T10:48:00.000-07:00

Roses are Red - Part 2
by: Susan, D.A., Celt, Misty, Garvis, Sue, Doghouse, Elizabeth, Marie, Jo, Marie, Semaht

Part 2 of the "Roses Are Red" project for the group - everyone was supposed to email Susan a poem using the "Roses are Red, Violets are Blue" rhyming scheme. After waiting a week for submissions she started off with a simple reminder to the list about sending her their submissions. This turned into a game which most of the list joined in on. (We're still waiting for Susan to publish what was actually submitted.)

Roses are red, the thorns are mean
I just spit my drink, all over my screen....

Roses are Red, And I just can't sew,
You spit on the screen, But didn't say "No".

Roses are red, you guys are the SH#$,
Your poems have caused, me quite a coughing fit!!!!
Roses are red, DA's been bad
He used the F word, And Yahoo didn't get mad!

Roses are red, Flowers get trimmed
Why can't these list members. Trim these darn messages!!!

Roses are Red, Colds cause a fever
You may not be able to sew, But you can't spell either!

Roses are Red, Bunnies are floppy
What can I say, We just got sloppy

Roses are Red, And typo's are caused
When brain goes so fast, And your fingers get paused

Roses are Red, Yahoo Spam blocker is off
Now we can all swear, And none of you scoff.

Roses are Red, Curse words may pass
We use too many, Susan will kick our A$$

Roses are Red, EC Spoilers is Rockin'
While these poems abound, Soon everyone will flock-in
Susan from Iowa, From Canada, D.A.
There's Lissa and Doghouse, and Misty fights tooth decay
Elizabeth digs in dirt, In IT, Brian with a Q
Anne and Colleen, And we can't forget Sue
Garvis collects, Jo has two cows,
Celt is a witch, With Jeff we carouse
Roses are Red, Members are listed
These poems sure proved, That we're definitely twisted

Roses are Red, And we have a new member,
Welcome to Semaht, She joined in November

Roses are red, taffy is sticky
trimming messages? picky, Picky, PICKY!

Roses are red, in apology we bow
but we just got distracted, by Sue's Mau Mau's.

Roses are red, and you just gave me cause
to give you a round of, cyber applause!

Roses were red, the flowers are dead
please get my butt, out of your head!

Roses are read, violets are blue
let's discuss other things, except body parts of Sue

Roses are red, Sorry you made a mess
So does that mean, The answer was yes?

Roses are red, I don't believe the hype
DA can spell, but when horny, His fingers can't type

Roses are red, I wish he'd warned us sooner
We might have changed the convo, so he didn't need a nooner.

Roses are red, welcome Semaht!
Your name sounds familiar, what type of poem have you brought?

Roses are red, OK, the discussion will move on
to various body parts of, Mistymonbon

Roses are red, This topic is hot,
Oh no whoops, It prematurely shot*

Roses are Red, I have a slight cough
After reading these posts, I am laughing my ass off

Roses are Red, I need to go cry
I forgot all about trimming, And keep hitting reply

Roses are Red, DA came sooner
You’da thought he had some staying time, After his quickie nooner!

Roses are Red, Another new Member
Pave a beach for Marie, And, you she'll remember

Roses are red, I am blue
Thank You for inviting me, My dream has come true
This is just what i need, A quick pick me up
Where are the dirty limericks, They would sure rock
Instead everything look tame, what did I expect?
The members list shows me, who here and who is not
Judging from that, I expect more
Lets see the words fly, I want to see more

Roses are red, Marie wants dirty
but I haven't thought like that, Since I was thirty.

Roses are red, Don't cry in your soup
You weren't the only one, Who sent me for a loop.

Roses are Red, And who are you kidding
You led us into the gutter so fast, We keep bumping and skidding

Roses are red, I'd try the "small t"
but it doesn't make sense, To an innocent such as me.

Roses are red, I am tired of Scrolling
But this has been fun, LOLing!!!

Roses are red, My favorite fruit is a peach
Two "exquisite" new members? Here's a "Welcome" for each

Roses are red, But are writing ain't blue
But if that'll cheer you up, I know just what to do.
Let me first post a warning, Adult Content Ahead
Then I'll work up a poem, About "Tales From The Bed".
The poor girl at the seaside, In bed with a dwarf
Who thought the man asked, If she'd go down on the wharf.
Or the bold little girl, Who asked the boy "what's a penis?"
And so he asked his dad, Who he thought was a genius.
The man took his out, and said "Son, you're in luck.
This is the world's perfect penis, I know you're awestruck."
The boy went back to the girl, and said he'd explain for a quarter.
He then said his would be the world's perfect penis, If like his dad's it was just two inches shorter.

Roses are red, And I can't keep up with these listings
But maybe tonight, I'll pen a poem about fisting.

Roses are red, and try as he can
D.A. doesn't want the reputation, as a minute man!

Roses are red, A poem about fisting?
Is something we hope, You keep resisting!!!

Roses are red, Shriners wear a fez
just please stay away from, Dirty Sanchez!

Roses are red, What Celt said lemme repeat
I don't need any poems, about things going up that one-way street.

A little tiny dwarf! That could be fun!
As long as his...um hands are as big as the sun!

Roses are red, I just got in from work
And I see the requests, Not to rhyme 'bout this quirk.
But when I read doghouse saying, About one-way streets
I feel I must point out, Fists are better than feets.
And please keep in mind, The one way street may not apply
When you're talking of a girl, And not of a guy.
Just watch Chasing Amy, Where the act is discussed
As a lesbian love act, With a partner you trust.
And I would be so remiss, To not mention Rockbitch
Who perform the act on stage while they're singing, Without the slightest hitch.
The act may sound painful, And I know some may scoff
But their are people who do it, Cause it gets their rocks off.
Well this is my poem, Not quite what I planned
But I bet you think twice, Next time someone asks for a hand.

Roses are red, in the autumn leaves fall
I hated Chasing Amy, and would recommend Annie Hall.

Just bothering to see this now.
You've sucked me in - I'm not sure how!

Roses are red, I agree on both points
Smith rarely does anything for me, But Allen seldomly disappoints.

Roses are red, I beg to disagree
Woody Allen movies, make me want to decree
Woody Allen should stop, and leave it to the pros
the real moviemakers, are the Coen Bros.

Roses are red, It's a matter of Taste.
I could do without Curse of the Jade Scorpion, But Match Point was certainly not a waste.
Roses are red, The Coen Brothers are great,
Fargo was a prize, O Brother will never be out of date.

Roses are red, All those directors are swell
I personally find, Kevin Smith funny as hell.
But I also love Woody, And have since nearly 6 grade
I've enjoyed Sleeper, Manhatten, Most every film that he's made
The Coens are also, Quite good I must say
But I need to sit down, And watch Blood Simple some day.
And what about Mel Brooks, Back in his prime?
I can watch Blazing Saddles, And laugh every time.
I also like Landis, And the Z A Z team
Airplane was so funny, I thought I would scream.
I only hope some day in the future, That people will indeed
Speak as flatteringly of the comedy, Of Garvis M Reed.

Roses are red, Some see Smith's work as gold
but to me his humor, is aimed at a ten-year old.

Roses are red, dead leaves are brown
the Coen brothers and I, share the same hometown.
Roses are red, for a rhyme I'm at a loss
but check out this story, for a Coen idol named Mike Zoss.
Roses are red, tell me what you think
after you read the article, you'll find by clicking on this link:

http://www.startribune.com/106/story/1540798.html

Roses are red, Alaska has Nome
but the drugstore referenced above, was two miles from my home.
Roses are red, and I try not to swear
but gosh darnit, I'll tell 'ya, I used to shop there.
Roses are red, getting back now on topic
do you not like Woody Allen, because with glasses he looks myopic?
Roses are red, the directors you mention
are good, no doubt, but it's the oldies, that really get my attention.
Roses are red, Screwball comedies with Cary Grant
are some of my favorites, like the one with his crazy aunt.

Roses are red, I don't mean to annoy
but my first job, was at that grocery store as a carry out boy.
Roses are red, this thought will always be unknown
but could I have bagged groceries, that fed J & E Coen?

Rose are red, The Coen Bros. are smart
To honor a man, Who seemed to have such heart.

Rose are red, You might have cracked their eggs
Their bread you did smoosh, While staring at some chicks legs.

Roses are red, when a woman got in her car
if she was wearing a skirt, you could really see far!
Roses are red, there's really no in between
getting a view like that, was a treat at sixteen.

Roses are red, these rhymes make me snicker
if we had a new topic, i think they'd come a lot quicker

Roses Are Red - Part 1

2008-03-14T20:41:00.000-07:00

Roses are Red
by: Susan, D.A., Celt, Misty, Garvis, Sue, Doghouse, Elizabeth, Marie

This was a project for the group - everyone was supposed to email Susan a poem using the "Roses are Red, Violets are Blue" rhyming scheme. After waiting a week for submissions she started off with a simple reminder to the list about sending her their submissions. This turned into a game which most of the list joined in on. (We're still waiting for Susan to publish what was actually submitted.)

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue,
I only have poems, From a few of you

Roses are Red, Yellow is pee,
I gave you a poem, So you're not waiting for me

Rose are red, Violets smell like poo,
It sounds to me, Like you need something to do!

Roses are silent, and so is the mime,
Two hours left, Until quitting time.

Roses are red, Violets are dirty,
I'll be off in one hour, When it's five-thirty.

Roses are Red, Carnations are black,
If you duck out early, No one will give you flack

Rose are red, It's now dark outside
It's now 5:40... So on home I shall slide.

Roses are red, And it's not even Four,
A little under an hour, Then I'm out the door

Roses are red, It's Six-fifteen,
I'm happy I am home, There's television to be seen!

Roses are Red, Canada's Great
I'll be watching Pushing daisies, Tonight at Eight.

Roses are Red, Iowa is better,
But my apartment is cold, I had to put on a sweater.

Roses are Red, And grow in the Sun,
Why is it only Susan and I, Are having all the fun?

Roses are red, Losers are scared,
They worry because, They are so unprepared!

Roses are Red, Corpses are Black,
Send Susan a Poem, Or she'll give you a smack

Roses are Dead, And shrivelled like hell,
Exquisite Corpse Spoilers, Poems still smell

Rose are red, Flowers are pretty,
Oh can't you see, How our poems are witty?

Roses are red, Your poems are swell,
I read them twice, And let out an elle-oh-elle (Sound it out)

Roses are red, And we both rock,
Still waiting for more replies, From the rest of the flock.

Roses are Red, Books are for reading,
I just returned, From my Weight Watcher's meeting.
Roses are red, NC has Duke,
Dumb ass Sassy, Made a pile of puke!
Roses are red, Sassy is fat,
While away at my meeting, The pile of puke sat!
Roses are red, My family is lame,
I cleaned the puke myself, I have them to blame!
Roses are red, Their heads need pounded,
For leaving the puke, They are all grounded!

Roses are red, What can you say?
Where did they go? Did they all hit the hay?

Roses are Red, Simpsons are funny,
They better apologize, And give you lots of money!

Roses are Red, You skinny thing,
Go tell your husband, To buy you some Bling!
Roses are Red, Sounds like my Ally,
She pukes every morning, As just out of bed I do rally.
Roses are red, The Hair ball is black,
You can't blame Malcolm Girl, that's just a fact
Roses are red, I have no one to ground,
I have to clean it up daily, Before the next wretching sound.

Roses are Red, Nothing like Cassie,
She doesn't puke in the house, She's much to classy

Rose are red, I won't fall for that bit,
I'd rather deal with cat litter, then clean up dog shit.

I know I should start, With Roses are Red,
But at times you were writing, My ass was in bed.

Roses are red, Like the trail of a comet,
Did I really just read, A poem about vomit?

Roses are red, Little chickies go cheep,
I'm still working midnights, So I'm still asleep.
Roses are still red, Now I'd be at work not asleep,
But since we can't access emails, I can't utter a peep.

Roses are Red, I have a big ass,
The puke piles are worse, When they have lots of grass.

Roses are red, Cassie is probably cool,
But as we all know, It is the cats that Rule!

Roses are red, Violets are blue,
If I couldn't respond to emails at work, I'd have nothing to do!

Roses are red, my cats are fat,
They ate all the food in the bowl, and undigested on the floor it sat.

Roses are red, Violets aren't bold,
I go to bed early, Cuz I'm freaking old!

Roses are red, their stems have some grime,
I just have to say, I love standard time!

Roses are red, these messages are fun,
I just had to say, I really liked this one!

Roses are red, puke sounds ishy, but that,
is reason #50, why I don't get a cat.

Roses are red, I didn't mean to seem withdrawn,
but it just so happens, I just logged on.

Roses are red, no email at work?!?
Go tell your boss, that I think he's a jerk.
Roses are red, if your boss screams foul play,
just tell him I'm from Canada, and my name is D.A.

Roses are red, Misty's a bold girl,
and yes, that's right, a rhyme about hurl.

Roses are red, cat puke would make me a grump,
but forget all that, let's talk about your rump.

HEY! Roses are red, the rhyming pattern your suddenly eschewing?
Why? Is it cuz we're suddenly overdoing?

Roses are red, Flowers are green,
My rump is the size, of a washing machine!

Roses are red, Even though quiet as a mouse,
We got rid of our dog, Cuz he wouldn't quit peeing in the house.

Roses are red, the Simpsons are bent,
and not quite as funny, as Arrested Development.

Roses are Red, And Baby's got back,
Enough about your ass, Let's talk about your rack!

Roses are Red, That blame we must douse,
It's not Canada that said it, But Mr. Doghouse.

Roses are red, Fruit has a peal,
Oh yes they are fabulous, and of course they're real.

Roses are red, Isn't that true,
Dogs are just bark machines, Standing in a pile of drool .

Roses are red, That thinking is foolish,
Standard time is really, Just for the Ghoulish.

Roses are red, The kitty you will love,
It's puke will seem, like a message from above.

Roses are red, No, Garvis, don't buy it,
I never shoulda said it, now my karma's disquiet.

Roses are red, the dark's really cool,
and if it were light out at midnight, how could people celebrate yule?

Rose are red, The dark is okay,
As long as it showed up, A bit later in the day.

Roses are Red, Fruit still has a peel,
Now do you mind, If we all cop a feel?

Roses are Red, Your mind is in the gutter,
Go off to a corner, Stand there and mutter.

Roses are red, You seem quite contrite,
It was all in good fun, And not done in spite.

Roses are red, And the gutter is yucky,
We could be in worse places, Like the State of Kentucky.

Roses are red, DA created quite a ripple,
but I agree, and specifically, I'd like to talk about your . . . (Maybe I'd better reassess this one!)

Roses are red, Sucks, the writer's strike,
It does, I guess I'll go out and ride my bike.

Roses are Red, Yahoo's spam filter sucks,
It hung up several message, Those damn Yahoo ... ducks!

Roses are red, The Grass there is blue,
don't talk bad 'bout Kentucky, Or they'll come after you!

Roses are red, try not to fret,
Yahoo's just slow, you've nothing to regret.

Roses are red, what you say may be true,
but looking at cat vomit, might make me spew, too.

Roses are red, but if you crawl under your quilt,
while the sun is still shining, it leads to feelings of guilt.

Roses are red, you raise a good point,
now I'm feeling happy, insert exclamation point (!)

Roses are red, But rhyming can be quite a pain,
When it's government rules, You must try and explain.

Roses are red, Your rump must be shy,
I'm still waiting on a picture. Promised in a My Space reply.

Roses are red, And I must admits,
I liked discussing her ass, And can't wait for her other bits.

Roses are red, I used to work nights,
Sleeping in the day time, Causes no frights.

Roses are red, Now don't you fret,
When you have a kitty, Vomit won't be a threat.

Roses are red, I'd love that little cuss,
but seeing someones puke, makes me ride the porcelain bus.

Roses are red, Used to it, you'll get,
I'll send a sample of Ally's, on the next jet.

Roses are red, I always like research,
but the thought of seeing Ally's vomit, makes my stomach start to lurch.

Roses are red, Ally is black,
Give her daily Vaseline, Then no reason for the ACK!

Roses are red, VASELINE?!?
Is cute little Ally, a vomit machine?
Roses are red, just typing the "V" word,
starts to activate, my feelings of GERD.

Rose are red, Don't worry about a thing,
Ally hasn't vomited, Since the time change.

Roses are red, that's been a long time,
but I just have to ask, what happened to the rhyme?
Roses are red, sage is a pretty light green,
but how do you get a cat, to eat Vaseline?

Roses are Red, It should have been Thang not thing,
But I was tired after gambling, For me no slots would bing.
Roses are red, She's a strange cat,
Eating Vaseline from my fingers, Pretty cool, isn't that.

Roses are red, mantises are praying,
That Ally's a cool cat, goes without saying!
Roses are red, Coltrane played sax,
my friend once had a cat, who ate ear wax.

Roses are red, Used Q-tips are a hit,
Don't take them from the cat, Unless you want to get bit!

Roses are red, larger cats are cougars,
my used Q-Tips, are usually covered with boogers.

Roses are red, I just supply the facts,
but I think every cat, likes the taste of ear wax.

Rose are red, I worry about you,
Q-Tips are for the ears, What the hell do you do??

Roses are red, if you hold the Q-Tips in a certain way,
you can really get . . . uh, maybe I'd better not say.

Roses are Red, I'm feeling sick,
Thinking of you and Qtips, ...Ewwwww.....Ick......

Roses are Red, I think you're confused,
Q-Tips are for ears, But you are excused.
Noses, when "blew", Show boogers so green,
Q-Tips are brown, Once ears are clean.
Once you have "read", This message please note,
The homonym use, In these things I wrote.

Roses are red, This is the only group i know,
That likes to talk about boogers and ear wax, in many, many posts.
Read on if you will, Lets start a new subject,
why not talk about shopping and tax, instead of a snotty nose.
I don't know why maybe it is only because it rhythms,
but it sure sounds more pleasant than green things in your nose.
Tis the season even though Thanksgiving is yet to be,
but Mr. St Nickwas at the mall this past week,
We stopped and we stared, and my 7 year old exclaimed,
with hands on her hips "it's not even December yet".

Roses are red, after you blow out that goop,
sometimes your nostril, just needs a good scoop.
Roses are red, a finger's too big,
and a Q-Tip provides one, with a pretty good dig
Roses are red, and when it's balanced on that stick,
makes that cute little booger, that much easier to flick.
Roses are red, I saw the homonyms next spring,
when I spin a dreidel, you'll know it's Purim.

Zombie Story - Back from the Dead - Part 1

2007-10-30T12:34:00.000-07:00

or The Cows Ate the World (?)

This one is also still in progress. One person picks two words to be used, the writer writes something using those words. They then 'tag' the next person with two words tehy must use, and so on and so on.

By (so far): Qbryzan, Sue, Doghouse, Garvis, and D.A.

WORDS: PLETHORA and ANTITHESIS

As I write this, the human race is exhaling its last breath. At the beginning of the 21st century we were faced with a plethora of life-threatening problems, from Global Warming to Nuclear War, but ironically what did us in was so much more insidious. I only hope one day some other race may discover this and learn from our mistakes.
You see, we thought bacteria were bad. And in a way they were. But our solution was the antithesis of a life-saving measure - we developed anti-bacterial soap. Lots and lots of anti-bacterial soap. It got so bad you couldn't even find non-anti-bacterial soap anymore, unless you made it yourself.
And that is where our trouble began.

***

WORDS: PERIPATETIC and SERENDIPITY

Now normally a peripatetic person would carry anti-bacterial soap on their travels. A backpack would include the germ killing soap or at least hand sanitizer, water, toiletpaper, a map and other necessary items that one might need at the drop of a hat while wandering around aimlessly, but on this particular day, our traveler had to make a quick exodus from their abode as zombies had attacked their peaceful Iowian town and forced our hero to leave her home quickly.
"Damn it!" Susan mumbled under her breath as she searched through her fanny pack for the millionth time. "I just want clean hands.... Is that too much to ask?" But she had the serendipity to notice the bottle of hand sanitizer sticking out from under her car seat. "Viola! I am saved."

***

WORDS: QUIXOTIC and CONUNDRUM

She had the thought of tossing the hand sanitizer onto the heap of trash spilling over the side of the metal trashcan along with all the spoiled food that was lost when the power went, but shrugged off that quixotic notion as an old habit dying hard.

Across town Rick was hunkered down inside an old wooden shed, his survival pack strung taut across his back and his rifle clenched tightly in his sweating fingers. The sun had just set and he could hear them on the other side of the thin wodden wall shuffling back and forth aimlessly. They were most active at night and he knew he was here, trapped until sunrise. Rick hated the outdoors, he hated cabins and he hated camping. Putting together a survival pack was difficult, but second only to figuring out how to load the bullets in the rifle. And here he was stuck, alone, hungry and cold until dawn.
Rick laughed silently to himself and whispered, "What did I do to deserve to be stuck in the night of the living dread?". His smile faded as he realized that this was no time for conundrums; he shook his head to bring him back to the present.

***

WORDS: FRISKINESS and RECIPROCITY

Rick looked around trying to locate his comrades. If there was one lesson Rick had learned it was that as long as you were with a group of people you are safer in the event of a zombie attack, especially if one of them is just a little bit slower than you are. He saw Jay and Bob leaning against the back wall. Jim and Pam had slipped off somewhere probably engaging in a little friskiness he thought. He looked around the cabin. Where was Randy?
Rick took his walkie talkie and asked Randy to reply. He didn't think Randy fully understood the scope of the disaster they were facing. He hadn't come face to face with this new breed of walking dead. It was doubtful he would even recognize them if he was face to ... suddenly a burst of static came over Rick's walkie.
"Randy, is that you? Where are you?" Rick radioed back.
"It's me. I had to get some fresh air. I think I was getting cabin fever," Randy replied.
"Randy, are you telling me that you are outside?"
"Well duh, where else would the fresh air be? Besides, do you have any idea how many bacteria are inside that cabin? And I don't have any anti-bacterial soap, Rick. It's not safe in there." Then Rick heard Randy speak the words he hoped he would never hear. He heard the words that told him that even though there were bacteria inside the cabin, there were worse things outside."Rick," Randy's voice was static filled and unearthly, "Lookie Dat Cow."

If Randy could see them it was too late. The zombie cows would soon be all over Randy. Considering how many times Randy had eaten their kin at McDonalds and Burger King, Rick figured this was a cosmic act of reciprocity, bovine intervention, kine karma. Tonight Randy was on the menu and the cows were gonna have it their way.

***

WORDS: PARADIGM and RECALCITRANT

Damn that Randy for beings so recalcitrant. If only he'd listened! Rick did a quick headcount and was relieved that there were at least three other people slower than him. Unless the paridgm shifts, I should be safe for a little while longer.

Meanwhile, in the cornfields of Iowa Susan walked wondering what had happened to all the people? Just then she heard the sound of cattle lowing. Where are those cows I keep hearing? She thought to herself.

***

WORDS: OLIGARCHY and LUGUBRIOUS

In Canada, a group of freedom fighters were trying to regain order with an oligarchy group. Chaos reigned worldwide, and there was no end in sight to the looting and rampant anarchy.

"David, we need to let the others know that we're here," the doctor said. "How else can we unite against this lugubrious situation? Someone has to rise up and save us from the cows."

Meanwhile in Milwaukee a discovery was made. "Hrmmmm. Bacteria?"

=====

TO BE CONTINUED ...

Next Words to be used: RAGLAN and OSSIFY

Pet Attack (???) - Part 1

2007-10-30T12:28:00.000-07:00

This one is actually still currently untitled, and still 'under construction'.

By (so far): D.A., Susan, Misty, Doghouse, and Sue

"Dreamy!" Misty sighed as she watched the Nerds-r-us channel on her new 50" plasma tv. Just then she heard some clacking on the keyboard. "Odd?" She thought as she got up to investigate. There was Buster on the computer. He looked up at her, suspicion in his eyes.
"Busty-baby? What are you doing?" A hint of concern in her voice.

Across town Susan had just gotten home from her latest shopping trip. "If only Malcolm had opposable thumbs, then he could help me bring in the groceries." she thought to herself as she opened the front door.
Something was amiss. Everything was too quiet. "Malcolm? Alley? Teva?" The cats were nowhere to be found. And worst of all, her computer was missing ...

She yelled as she walked around the house, "Short-Tailed Wonder.. where are you?"
"Fat-Boy Slim, where are you?" She didn't bother calling for Teva, who she knew was certainly in her latest hidey hole.
But then she noticed her computer was missing. All that was left amid the desk clutter was a note. "Quit gambling away your money... Give it to me instead. Send $100 dollars, and a couple new catnip socks to the inclosed address, and I might return the cats. Forget the computer. Much Love, B"

"Shit!" Susan yelled. Her luck tonight at the track and the casino had run out. Now she was going to have buy back her cats. Well at least Ally and Teva. "B" whoever that is, will certain get tired of the Orange kid sooner that I can make those catnip socks.

Susan searched feverously through her dusty roll-a-dex to find a clue as to who "B" might be.

Suddenly it dawned on her that Brian was over the other night to fix her computer and was going on and on about the hidden talents of his IT trained cats, Cat5 and Cat6.

"That's it", Susan thought. Brian must be behind this caper.

Susan quickly placed a call, but it went unanswered. Off to the left a strange red light caught her eye and she realized that it was a laser beam. Cat 5 and Cat 6 must be using the computer operated laser beam to lure cats away from the house!!

Maybe Brian is not behind this after all and it the work of Cat5 and Cat6, Susan thought. Susan had to work quickly in case Brian was being held hostage. She was getting ready to head to Brian's when a strange sight appeared before her eyes.

"Cassie?" "Did I just see Cassie driving that rent-a truck?"..The plot was getting deeper and deeper.

Across town, but not on the same side of town as Susan, just slightly north of her and a little west, so not even technically "across" town but maybe more kitty-corner, a soft light flickered in the window of an abaondoned warehouse. Someone sat on the floor in front of a low candle rocking back and forth almost as if in prayer. The rocking motion caused the flame to jump but never giving off enough light to make out any of the person's features. Male or female, it was impossible to tell as the hair was of an indeterminante length and the clothes, if they could even be called clothes were loose and hanging and covered in a strange, soft looking material.

The wind howled through the heat ducts and caused the door handle to shake. Alerted by the noise the candle worshiper stopped rocking and tilted its head back. Its ears suddenly pricked upright and its head turned toward the noise.

"Meeeeoowww?"

Back at Misty's house, Buster stared at Misty. She couldn't tell if he was plotting something or just giving her the normal cat indifference stare.

Misty slowly rose from the couch and walked toward Buster and the computer. Buster quickly bounded from his perch on the computer desk to vanish underneath it. A quick flash of light and the monitor went dark. Buster had pushed the off switch on the surge protector. He slowly moved out from under the desk, growling softly. Misty backed away from him in surprise and a touch of fear. "Buster-baby, what's wrong?"

Suddenly she heard a crash outside. She turned towards the noise only to see Buster streak out of the room. She followed Buster towards the bedroom. Was he using the telephone?

Back in a dark and abandoned warehouse not quite really across town, but on a different side of town, a phone rang.

Ring Ring! Ring Ring! Ring Ring! There was a fumbling for the phone, almost as if the one answering lacked opposable thumbs.

A voice from the other end of the phone sounds out, "She's on to us. It's time to intiate Operation: Leash Law*" (*translated from pet-speak)

"Are you sure? " The voice at the other end said

"Look I know what I am talking about, okay. It's not like this has just been a walk in the park for me.... well except for when I did go for a walk in the park.. but still... pay attention!"

TO BE CONTINUED ...

Time for Another New One

2007-10-30T12:22:00.000-07:00

Another Collaborative poem. (And one of our longer ones at that)

By: Sue, Susan, Garvis, D.A., Doghouse, Misty, Elizabeth, and Jeff

When I close my eyes I think of you,
Then push a pin in the Doll of VooDoo.
If I'm really upset, I'll push in two,
And maybe light a match under you.

I hate you so much, you big piece of poo!
I could throw you in a pot of stew
Except you'd be too tough to frickin' chew.
And your hair's so greasy, ever heard of shampoo?

Sometimes when I see you, I could just spew.
It's disgusting the pain that you've put me through.
And I think you also gave me the flu,
Ah - ah - ah - ahhhhhh - ahCHooooooo

So now I can't go to the zoo,
I guess I'll just listen to some Blink 182.
Then I'll change my haircolor to blue.
As I decide to make my life anew.

Hey, that sounds interesting. So what will you do?
Probably get a real big tattoo.
Maybe go to school, and some new skills acrue,
And read a bit about Winnie the Pooh!

I heard a rumor that he was a Jew.
That's strange, I thought he was Buddhist because he knows kung fu.
And has mastered the art of Ju-Jitsu
Actually, that was his friend Roo.
Phew!

Welcome Celt

2007-10-30T12:14:00.000-07:00

Celt joined the Exquisite-Corpse list in dramatic fashion (and was greeted in a likewise manner)

By: Celt, D.A., and Doghouse

It was a dark and stormy night and as the front door of the old mansion squeaked open on rusty complaining hinges, lightning flashed and starkly revealed the silhouetted figure of the new arrival.......

CELT!
The HORROR!!!

***

And then Celt laughed hilariously at the surprised looks on everyone's faces. "Scared you didn't I?"
"The way you jumped out I thought Michael Myers had finally caught us."
"Don't say his name you'll draw him to us!!!! We've been hiding out here in our little corner of cyber-space hiding from him. He's evil you know."

***

"What's all the noise going on up there? Rusty doors slamming at this time of night? Sounds like a bunch of darned hippies moving in."

***

"WORSE!!! A witch!"

***

A witch I tell you. She turned me into a newt.

***

"What does a guy have to do to get a decent night's sleep around here? First doors slamming and hinges squeaking and then a witch shows up and now I see talking newts crawling around all over the place. Oh well, as long as she didn't turn him into a Newt Gingrich then I can't complain."

New One

2007-10-30T11:58:00.000-07:00

New One

Another collaborative poem.

By: Sue, D.A., Susan, Doghouse, Misty, Jeff, Garvis

Last night I had the strangest dream
I couldn't quite place the theme
I think I was wading in a stream
And I think some of the images were quite obscene.
All of a sudden I saw a big fish!
With it's Peg Bundy Hairdo it said, "Let's dish!"
"But first," I thought, "I'd like to make a wish."
(For a Time Wonk had caused two replies to exist.)
"I'd like a dream date with Lillian Gish."

I don't even care that she is dead!
I bet she'd give terrific... meds

It's Quiet, Too Quiet

2007-10-30T11:52:00.000-07:00

It's Quiet, Too Quiet

This poem came about when we were discussing what our next writing project should be. (The title reflects the subject line of the original discussion)

By: Susan, D.A., Sue, Doghouse, Qbryzan, Misty

I was so tired, I could hardly scream.
I wanted to sleep, and return to my dream.
But I was hungry and needed some ice cream.

So in my pajamas I wandered to the store.
Never thinking that in my PJs I looked rather hardcore.
In fact, its true, I could barely reveal more.

While along the way, I wandered upon a sight
I tried not to look, using all of my might
The grotesque figure gave me a fright

But I couldn't move, I was frozen in place,
Was that my neighbor's TV set showing The Amazing Race?

Rob and Amber were appearing for the 47th time.
But this time running it as a Mime.
And now someone's just tossed them a dime
But that won't pay for the Taxi this time.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"

2007-07-19T17:06:00.000-07:00

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"

Writing assignment beginning with the same sentence where no one knows what the other person wrote:
By Susan, Melissa, Doghouse. D.A., Misty Jo, Sue, Garvis and Jeff.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?" This wasn't what I meant to do, where I meant to go or how I meant to get there. I didn't understand.It didn't make any sense! If I explained this to anyone, they would think I was nuts.. off my rocker."The Chick is Twisted", they would confirm to each other. Well I have never denied that, but come on, that didn't help me out at all. What have I gotten myself into? All I can do is ponder deeply and hope I figure out the answer by nightfall.Because once nightfall hits.. all bets are off.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?" I knew showing up at this place was a mistake. I knew not listening to my instincts would get me into trouble. But I never expected … this! Whatever 'this' is. "What exactly are we watching?" I asked the guy standing next to me. We both tilted our heads to the left so we could keep up with the action. "Is he… was that… are they going to… that looked uncomfortable. Hey!" I turned my full attention to the man in blue in hopes of getting a response. "Are you going to answer my question?"

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?" It was just a silly sore throat and if I didn't worry about that stuff so much I never would have thought of going to see the doctor in the first place, but I do, and here I am, so save your "I told you so"'s for later. Okay? You hear that Lisa? Wherever you are? No, you don’t, because you’re not here and even if you were here you never heard anything I said anyway so you wouldn’t be hearing this anyway, so just forget it. Can we do that? Probably not if you were really here because you’d be telling me you’re not going to be forgetting anything anytime soon while I thought about choking you. Maybe it was a good thing when she left. Anyway, I thought the doc would take a look down my throat with that little light thing, feel my neck, say “hmmm” and send the nurse down the hall for one of those throat swab things which would reassure me I was alright and then I’d be on my way, but here I was, alone in an open-backed examination gown with nothing on underneath and worst of all, my shoes and socks were keeping company with the rest of my clothes in a plastic bag hanging from a hook on the back of the exam room door. My feet were cold. My throat was still scratchy, although not really enough now to warrant a visit to the doc and Lisa was still pissing me off although the involuntary clenching of my hands had seemed to stop. Yeah, I know, and I don't want to talk about power either, okay?

Five minutes turned to ten and the anxiety over my scratchy throat was thankfully lost with the effort of trying to translate the Spanish language medical wall chart of sexually transmitted diseases which was hanging right next to the wall chart of diseases of the human spine. Unfortunately, neither of these efforts was enough to make me forget that I was sitting on a hard examination table in a cold examination room, naked underneath a gown I was unable to tie in the back. As I was listening to Lisa's voice tell me I'd just be getting dressed and leaving if I had any sense, but we both know that I don't have any sense which is why I'm still sitting here bare-assed like some type of idiot who can’t take care of himself the door opened. I turned to smile at the doc, more out of relief that he was actually here and was able to shut Lisa up than from any real sense of happiness to see him and finally get the show on the road, but saw two men in matching black suit coats entering the room instead. I was just thinking they looked exactly the same when the man on the left looked at me and said, “Are you ready, Mr. Sherman?” Sherman? Who the hell is Mr. Sherman? These guys must have me mixed up with some other guy in some other room and as I leaned forward to tell them they were in the wrong room, I bumped the glass of root beer the nurse had given me earlier and spilled it all over the bedside table. It was then that I noticed the slightly off color and odd smell of the drink, but it was too late to do anything because the two guys in the black suits were suddenly four and then a blurry and wiggly eight and then the room started spinning in front of me and the last thing I remember is dropping back down to the exam table.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"
The room was in disarray. The place looked like it had been ransacked, Cushions had been shredded, the cabinet drawers had been dumped with their contents strewn about the place. Even the curtains had been pulled down. Something odd was afoot. How did this happen?
The day had started innocently enough, I had gotten up at the usual time. Had a shower and poured myself a coffee. The birds were singing, the bees were buzzing. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful, ordinary day. The first clue that something would go amiss today occurred shortly after lunch. I was walking through the park when I was accosted by an old woman. Her hair was wild and unkempt, and she was wearing a flannel nightgown. "You're the focal point! The energies will focus around you!" And she started making these weird hand gestures towards me. I hurried away from her, she was obviously deranged!
As I walked home from work later that evening, a small army of squirrels and chipmunks were following me! I didn't believe it when I first noticed that mass of slowly moving rodents. But when I stopped, they all stopped. When I turned a corner, they turned a corner. I started to run; and I took many turns down unfamiliar streets. And the rodent army doggedly kept up pursuit. Finally, I saw my house. I made a mad dash for the door; lurched it open and slammed it. I looked out the peep-hole in the door, and all across my lawn I could see the squirrels and chipmunks (and even a couple of skunks) sitting in the lawn. Eerily staring at the door; they seemed to be swaying, almost as if caught up in some liturgical chant that I couldn't hear.
Shakily I turned to the living room and saw the chaos.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?" I can not think of anything to write for this new assignment. I figured this time I could cheat and Google the first line and come up with a story already written. Then there is work and the pressure of working with someone who really want to retire so he is making my life miserable. The pressure has caused an even bigger problem since I am now faced with over eating. I have this rather large stain on my shirt from the drippings of the massive amounts of White Castles I must consume to compensate for the pressure. Now what do I do?. There is Shout, Zout, Tide to Go, Spray and Wash, Wisk, club soda, Clorox and I don't know where to turn. Which stain remover do I use? Should I spray and soak or should I rub it in?. Should I take my shirt off and try to remove the stain that way or just attempt to clean it while it is on my body. There is also the question of what to do with all the cardboard containers from the White Castles. Can they still be recycled with the tiny onion bits still clinging to the sides of the container? I don't know if I should carefully remove each onion bit before throwing the containers away. I'm really not sure if the containers should be collapsed prior to disposing them. It is a rough life and I have a headache but I don't know which pain reliever to use.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?" I joined this Yahoo group and they are MAKING me write stuff. You would think I was still in the dreaded high school composition class............

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"
I was locked out of my house, in my underwear, and it was raining. From inside the house I could hear the phone ringing. It was the phone call of a lifetime and I was unable to answer it. I scanned the surrounding neighborhood to see if anyone was viewing my current predicament. Satisfied that I was completely alone, I dashed from the front porch around the side of the house to attempt to climb in the side window. As I reached the window and struggled to push open the apparently locked window, my heart sunk as I saw the familiar red and blue strobe flashing lights. "How am I going to explain this one?" I thought to myself. As gracefully as I could - in my underwear, I composed myself and turned to face the police officer.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"
The walls were wet and slimy like the inside of a cave or a colon. Not that I had every been inside of a colon, in fact I had never actually been inside of a cave, but if I had been inside of either, I am certain this is what they would have felt like.I ran my hand over the walls feeling for a light switch. Once again I had never heard of a cave or a colon having a light switch, but having never been in either it was possible. Surprisingly the slime was not coming off of the walls. In fact my hand was not even getting wet from touching it. This was strange. And while I did not truly know what a cave or a colon felt like, I did know what strange felt like and this was most definitely it.I slapped the wall and watched in the low light as it wiggled like Jell-o. I also took in the rich sound the slap had made and that had echoed back. I wonder if these walls are edible? I stuck my face close and took a deep sniff trying to discern a flavor. Nothing. I stuck my tongue out tentatively, deciding whether to give the wall a lick or not. On the one hand it could taste like strawberry kiwi. On the other hand it could taste like colon... or lime.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"
I'm no writer. I don't even pretend to be one. And now these folks want me to write? The only writing I've ever done was a little bit of erotic fiction but even that wasn't very good. Damn, now I've got to figure out what to write. And I have to do it on a deadline? I don't like pressure!!! What the hell am I going to write about? I need some inspiration!!! I wonder if I can find a few women to send me some pictures to provide me some inspiration. Oh wait...these folks might not like that type of writing. I'm in trouble now!!!!

Compilation of First Sentences and Sig Lines

2007-07-06T11:07:00.001-07:00

After discussing and kicking around various ideas for a First Sentence for starting our next "telephone story" - Our wonderful compiler Misty pulled out all the suggestions for a first sentence (some tongue-in-cheek) and various sig-lines into this wonderful mash of prose.

Sentences & Sig-Lines
By ExquisiteCorpse-Spoilers; Compiled by: Misty

I'll all for either idea, so long as I'm not the collector, or in a position of obligation or responsibility.
Will this story then only have beginnings.. no middle or no end?
The first will be where we all use the same sentence. We could start it now.. Who wants to come up with a sentence? Or should we come up with some and then vote in a poll?
We can't use that, because it is a little too meta.
Either one sounds great to me
Sarcasm is the refuge of losers..
Every morning now as I drink my Iced Latte I can't help wondering about the pus and blood content! But I just keep sipping through my straw.
As soon as beauty is sought not from religion and love, but for pleasure, it degrades the seeker.
It wasn't that I wanted to beat myself up, but I was tired, delusional,and really sick of how straight my nose was. It was time for a change..She said he had sex once but was drunk and didn't remember how to do it..
Reject a woman, and she will never let it go. One of the many defects of their kind. Also, weak arms.She explained to the mechanic that it wasn't her fault, the Snoopy did it.
Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?" I didn't really expect an answer because I was pretty sure that I didn't know. Still there was that nagging moment of doubt where I thought perhaps I did know, but I was just being superior and refusing to tell me. I can be such a prick sometimes.Why does God get all the credit when something good happens? Where is he when the heart stops?
It was a dark stormy night.
He was a dark and stormy knight. It was an ill-lit and windy dark time.
There seemed to be some sort of precipitation in the air.... Either that..or I was just sweating a lot. The sky looked and sounded like a flock of flatulent vultures eyeing a prize bit of roadkill.It had legs and these eyes sticking up on these stalks. Oh and corn.
Then life must be utopia for words*, since they can experience the thrill of victory, without the agony of de feet with the exception of words like "excrement", because I don't imagine it has a good life at all. Just imagine trying to get a date with a name like "excrement"
Doing stuff is overrated. Like Hitler. He did a lot. But don't we all wish he woulda just stayed home and gotten stoned?
Hopefully the rain will stop there, and the human harvest can proceed... dryly.

The Telephone Story...

2007-07-03T21:12:00.000-07:00

That isn't really the name of the story.. I think it has no name.
This might be the piece we are currently the most proud of.
The idea: Someone writes a paragraph (or whatever) and sends it off list to
the next person. That person writes their share and sends it off.
It didn't matter if they wrote one sentence or one paragraph. Everyone
had input.. It was sort of like the old Child's game of Telephone- hence
the title.

Here it is..

Untitled Telephone Story
By: Susan, Melissa, Doghouse, D.A., J. Elizabeth, Brian, Misty, Anne, Colleen, Jo, Sue, & Garvis

When he heard the car pull in the driveway, his first
instinct was to turn off the lights and act like he
wasn't home. Maybe if he was lucky it was just a car
caught going the wrong direction and needing to turn
around.

Unfortunately, he didn't hear it pull out or see the
headlights do so. That meant that she was here. After
all he had called her. It was time to deal with it
all. Of course it would be easy for her as she lived
for confrontation. He tended to want to flee as fast
as he could at the thought of confrontation.

It was too late, as he heard footsteps on the walk.
The click click click of her high heeled shoes. When
the knock came to the door, he froze. When the second
knock came he stood up slowly…

So what if she was an attorney…and his wife…make that
soon to be ex-wife. He was a man who could take care
of himself, contrary to popular belief. Of course,
that didn't explain his sudden urge to run, or find a
blankie to clutch, or scream for his mommy.

The third knock sounded louder, more impatient…a rapid
series of tap, tap, taps against the wood. "I know
you're in there! Now open this door!"

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the knob and
turned it slowly. Not wanting to appear as timid as he
felt, Wesley swung the door open wide and put on his
best fake smile. "Hello Lilah, your bellow never
ceases in brightening my day."
______________________________

_______________________________

"Shut up, Wesley, you know why I'm here so save your
smarmy little smile for your girlfriends and let's
just get to the point, shall we?"

Wesley felt the blood rush from his head to his lower
extremities as panic welled inside him. My
girlfriends? Did she know, or was she just being smug
in that special way of hers, he wondered. No, she
couldn't know, no one could know because he was too
careful.

He'd always been careful. Even when he was courting
Lilah he was always careful. He dropped his smile,
suddenly more concerned with standing upright and
stopping the shaking in his knees than trying to put
on a good face. "What do you want, Lilah? I was just
getting ready to go out and run some errands.

"Yes, I'm sure you have "errands", Wesley, you ALWAYS
have errands, don't you?"

"What?"

"Don't give me that, Wesley. You know exactly what I'm
talking about."

She knew. She had to know. Oh God, it couldn't be
happening like this. The planning, the careful
planning, it was impossible for her to know, so what
was going on here? Wait, it WAS impossible, wasn't it?

Wesley suddenly didn't know anything anymore. His
heart was beating a hard, steady rhythm in his chest
and he felt a cold line of sweat start to develop on
his brow. Indecision welled within him as he turned
and slowly stepped toward the end table next to the
couch, the couch he and Lilah had made love on so many
times after watching a particularly good episode of
Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

"Where are you going, Wesley?"

His body started to calm as he made his decision.
"W...what?"

"I said where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere. It's you who's going
somewhere, Lilah dear."

With those ominous words Wesley reached for the end
table, and Lilah reached into her purse...

Meanwhile, across town a seemingly unrelated incident
was beginning to take place.

"You are one damaged goods sister!" Meredith shrieked
as she dove across the table, lunging for Jessica's
throat. Jessica threw herself backwards to avoid the
enraged woman.

"Stop it and listen to reason"

"I'll show you reason you harpy!"

"I'm not the enemy. I'm not the one that...hurt you."

Meredith let out an enraged shriek and charged again.
How much longer could Jessica hold out?

She was beginning to grow weary of this game. All of
the women she was forced to tell that it was over with
Wesley, they all reacted the same way. No amount of
money was worth this. Jessica needed to get out of
this. But how?

As Meredith charged at her again, Jessica knew. She
side-stepped Meredith, letting her go face first into
the wall. Meredith turned around with pure hatred in
her face.

Jessica just smiled.

Meredith had never felt rage like this, and she wasn't
sure if it was the anger, or the head injury from her
collision with the wall, or even the liter of vodka
she just drank, but black spots started to form before
her eyes, and she began to lose consciousness.

When she awoke, she was in bed in an unfamiliar room.
She tried to sit up, but quickly realized that she was
tied to the bed with what appeared to be leather
straps. Deep down, she knew she should probably panic,
but her body simply wouldn't respond. From
this position, all she could move was her head, which
slowly turned around at the sound of the door
unlatching, and a man in a white coat entered.

"Who the hell are you?", she screamed, or at least
tried to scream, but the words simply drooled out the
side of her mouth lethargically, "Did Jessica put you
up to this?"

The man spoke calmly in what could only be a very
practiced comforting tone, "I'm Doctor Horowitz,
Meredith, and you've been brought here so that I can
help you."

"Let me go!" she slurred, "If Jessica finds me here,
I'm done for!"

"Meredith," he said in that same calm, patient voice,
"Jessica doesn't exist."
______________

"So why am I here and who brought me here", Meredith
inquired.

"You were brought here by Wesley", Dr. Horowitz
replied. "He noticed your mental state was
deteriorating and was fearful you would reveal your
affair with him to Lilah." "He is plotting to inherit
quite a large sum of money from Lilah's life insurance
after her untimely and unfortunate death and he did
not want you to get in his way".

Meredith began to shake uncontrollably in fear for
what was about to happen. "What do you intend to do to
me", Meredith quivered.

"I have given you a very powerful amnesiac drug. You
will not remember this conversation or any of your
past from this moment on". "Oh, and we also harvested
your
left kidney."

"Why does my mouth hurt so bad?" Meredith inquired.

"We also planted a microchip in your back molar and it
will track your whereabouts. If you come with 50 feet
of Wesley, you will be shocked by a defibrillator type
of device planted in your brain".

Without another word, the doctor turned and left the
room, locking the door gain. Meredith struggled to get
free from the restraints, but felt the blackness
overtake her again.
_____________________________________________

She was moving through a fog. She heard voices, but
couldn't make out what they were saying. She turned
her head, trying to discern the direction. Her whole
body felt heavy like it was made of lead. As the fog
started to clear, the voices got closer.

"And she doesn't remember *anything*?" one voice said,
male with a soft timber and a British accent.

"Nothing. It's all gone," another male voice answered.

She fought her way through the fog, trying to find the
men, needing to know what was happening.

"Doctor, I think she's waking up," a soft female voice
said.

She felt a hand on her face. "Mara, darling. Can you
hear me?" the British voice pleaded. "Please open your
eyes."

"Who's Mara?" she asked, groggily. Her mouth felt like
it was full of cotton. She started to open her eyes
but the light hurt too much.

"You're Mara," British voice answered. "I'm William
and you're my wife."

Bright light or not, she needed to see his face. She
opened her eyes again and discovered she was lying on
a hospital bed. There was a man sitting on the edge of
the bed, stroking her cheek. He was attractive...if
you like librarians. He did look familiar, but...

"Are you sure?" she asked him. "I don't feel married."

Meanwhile, back on the other side of town, Lilah took
an envelope from her purse. No matter how hard she
denied it, she really was sorry to see her
relationship with Wesley disintegrating. She wished
that they could have a normal life together, although
that would never happen. But sometimes, in the middle
of the night, when she woke up sad and alone, she
dreamed. She dreamed at times when the heavens were
dark and her hopes were high, but every time, light
broke the illusion.

He knew the gang was horrified at his relationship
with Lilah, but they weren't his group anymore, so why
did they care? Why did he care? Oh, but he did care.
Cared so much. They had been his friends, his
partners. He wanted to be back with them...especially
with Fred. He supposed that psychologically, Lilah was
a replacement for her, not like he couldn't have
chosen a woman more opposite from Fred. He really
needed to get over Fred, the only woman he ever truly
loved, but he just couldn't. She was unlike the
others, especially Meredith, who he just could not get
rid of no matter how hard he tried. He pushed her out
of his mind because at this very moment, she was being
taken care of. His interest in Fred had dwindled,
until the other day when she had come to him asking
for help. Reminded him of everything he had loved
about her. No matter how convincing Lilah thought she
was, Wesley could tell she was jealous. It was sort of
funny, in a twisted sort of way.

"It's time we ended this, Lilah," Wesley says, picking
up a file from his desk.

"I agree," Lilah says.

Fred was raised as a boy. Fred's Dad wanted to have
the all American kid who was the star baseball player.
But as long as Fred could remember he felt like he
wanted to be a little girl. Sugar and spice and
everything nice.
After the trauma of growing up a boy Fred met Wesley
at a bar. They became good friends, very good friends.
Wesley helped Fred discover his real self. The woman
named Fred was out of the shell and ready to discover
the world as a woman. Wesley and Fred developed a very
deep and personal relationship.
--
---------------------------

Mara looked up at William. She tried to place his
face. If he was her husband she should be able to
remember him. She concentrated as best she could.
The lights were still amazingly bright. And the pings
and beeps and whistles seemed to keep her off balance.
She looked around at the walls of her hospital room.
They were white, bright white, plain white. She
sniffed the air. Fresh white. These walls had just
been painted. But if the walls had just been painted,
why did they have patients in here?

Mara stared back at William’s face. It did look
familiar, but not in the husbandly way. She tried to
remember him placing a ring on her finger or handing
her a rose or over top of her as they made love.
Wait. Something clicked. She could remember his face
over top of her. His jaw thrust out as he pressed in.
She could see the sweat and the concentration on his
face and she could feel the pressure. The pressure of
his body on hers, his hands pressing in tight on her
throat trying to kill her. A light finally broke in
Meredith’s brain. She wasn’t Mara, this man wasn’t
her husband and this was most definitely not a real
hospital.

Across town another revelation was taking place as
Wesley stared at the file in his hands. He began
smoothing out his fingernails with it and staring at
the envelope in Lilah’s hand. “So, what’s in the
envelope?”

“It’s the divorce papers, Wesley. You need to sign
them,” Lilah said as she opened the envelope and
removed the papers. “In the settlement you admit to
having numerous mistresses, infidelity and mental
cruelty. With the terms of our pre-nup, that means
you get nothing, but out of the kindness of my heart,
I will allow you to keep this.” Lilah motioned at the
house they were currently inhabiting.

“Now Lilah dear, why would I ever consent to that?”
Wesley asked nervously, the file zipping side to side
as he continued to work on his nails. “Mistresses?
Infidelity? That’s all in your mind. You grew bored
with me and started looking for darker thrills.
You’re the one that began sleeping around and not very
discreetly I might add. You have no proof that I’ve
ever been unfaithful to you, but I have photos of you.
And video. I can show multiple instances of
infidelity and many of them occurring all at the same
time.” Wesley stopped filing his nails and looked
straight at Lilah’s eyes. “You know, Lilah, I really
didn’t realize how limber a person had to be to take
on four men and another woman all at the same time.
And I didn’t even know you were ambidextrous.”

Lilah stared at Wesley, unsure of what he was talking
about. She had never stepped out of the bonds of
their marriage and she wasn’t ambidextrous either.
Her sister had been the lucky one there. She stared
at Wesley. Suddenly she understood his gamut. Her
sister. Her identical twin sister. That had to be
the answer. Wesley had found out she was planning to
divorce him, leave him with nothing, and he had conned
her estranged and unbalanced sister into helping him.
“You bastard.” she hissed at him. “You don’t have
pictures of me. You have pictures of my sister! You
have pictures of Jessica!”

Wesley sat the nail file down on the desk. “Now Lilah
dear, that would be impossible. It’s like Dr.
Horowitz explained to you. You don’t have a sister.
Jessica doesn’t exist.”

Another Poem

2007-07-03T21:05:00.000-07:00

Somehow in the middle of our confusing death sentence Poem...
another was started:

(Of course none of us have ever used, seen or heard of any illegal substance
that might have accidentally gotten mentioned in this poem)

Is this poem in first person? Third person?
Don't know, ask Elle McPherson
But I'm scared, she is so fearsome.
(I hope to this fear I don't succumb)
(But at this point, I just feel numb)
(Have you tried therapy? Like banging on a drum?)
(Or maybe cracked open a good bottle of rum?)

But I don't drink, and can't percuss
So why should I bother with raising a fuss
I'll ask for your mercy, I'll beg and I'll plead?
Oh, so you think that your begging will get what you need?
If I don't beg, will you make me bleed?
No, but in my mind, you planted a seed.
Well, share with us this plan, don't hold back, no greed!
But as long as you're sharing - got any weed?
I'm in Canada, Of course in deed!
Now I'm so high, I've got a munchies need
(pssst) come here, uh, need any speed?
I'll take whatever, I'll follow your lead.
Even if I wanna go swimming in a Speed? Oh!
I'd close my eyes, and just scream "no!"

Did you lose your lights with all that fresh snow?
No, but that blizzard sure did blow.

A poem

2007-07-03T20:53:00.000-07:00

It started with a line from a poem that I wrote many moons ago.. and
it turned into something a bit wacky.. and a lot weird. Pretty much,
everyone just added a line...

As they take me slowly to the chair
I hope I'm in clean underwear
'Cause things might get messy down there
No mirrors, quick - how's my hair?

I sure hope no one's going to stare.
But let them speak their words if they dare.
Is that the governor on the phone there?
I've lost my towel and now I'm bare!
To die like this, just isn't fair
In the fiery spiral of a vortex called despair
With my honey horn in a state of rigid flare
Because the executioner looks so debonair
But I'm a guy, so why should I care?
how I wish I was at the Iowa State Fair
would this be his last prayer
He won the blue ribbon with his white Mare.
Right before that hippy called him a square.

Killing him is what put him there.
I shouldn't have told him to cut his hair
Still grossed out by that movie by Linda Blair
So much so, he just didn't care.

But I had to take that dare
I should've sprayed his head with Nair.
I'm laughing so hard that I need some air.
Too bad it is so smokey in here.

Must be from the tattoo I got of the bear...on my derriere.

For a week after that I couldn't sit on a chair

But I hope with a picture of her bum she soon will share!

Alas, I'll be dead before that picture could get here.

Dorcas Goodvoiceflute..

2007-07-03T20:47:00.000-07:00

Sometimes stories just never get finished... they just seem to fade away...
Poor Dorcas seemed to be one of those...

I have been thinking about firing myself, but things would get confusing
when I would have to do the phone interview with the unemployment
office and would have to work both sides of the story. Obviously a
raise is a much better idea.

====

But imagine the fun you could have giving yourself a reference when you go looking for a new job!

====

"She is Spectacular! I don't think we have ever had an employee like her. Always on time. Never called in sick. Always bright and chipper. Worth so much more than we could ever pay here. If it was possible I would triple her salary but alas, I can do nothing to persuade her from trying to get what she is truly worth in the market place"

"She does sound amazing. For the record can I get your name again?"

"Ah.. well... ah.... okay. Ah... Dorcas."

"And the last name?"

"ah... well.... Goodvoiceflute. Yes, Dorcas Goodvoiceflute"

====

"You mean the Dorcas Goodvoiceflute that murdered my parents and has
been a fugitive from the law ever since?"

Be careful, what are the odds that there are *2* Dorcas
Goodvoiceflute's?

====

As soon as he heard the name he knew his question was irrelevant, but he had to ask it just the same. No, there was no chance of there ever being two Dorcas Goodvoiceflutes in this, or any other, world. He'd waited a long time for this day and the joy of finally tracking her down washed over him like like tiny electric pinpricks. He pushed the button on his Acme Auto-Reverse 2000 Caller ID and watched as her name appeared on the display followed seconds later by what he'd been waiting a lifetime for: her address.

"Gotcha", he thought.

====

Dorcas let out a sigh. She couldn't believe her luck. After twelve years on the run. Twelve long years. For the first four she had tried a name as easy and common as Susan Scott, and life had been good until UPS tracked her down and started sending her boxes of toys meant for some other Susan Scott. If UPS could track her down, then so could they. That was the last thing she needed. Them. So then she became Hortence Cumberpatch. For eight years the name had served her well. But now she had slipped. She meant to tell that "employment verification" person that she was Hortence, but Dorcas slipped out. It had been twelve long years since she used that name. Twelve long years. Why now? Why now? How could she have slipped?

====

She was a confused mix of emotions. One the one hand, she couldn't
help but feel a little relieved after living a lie for so many years.
Day after day she feared that someone would find out, that someone must
know, and the resulting paranoia was wearing her down. Now her secret
was out, and she felt a brief rush of euphoria at the sudden release.

On the other hand, she had grown into the name Hortence Cumberpatch,
and for some reason the name drove men wild. Her social life had never
been more active, and she worried that they might lose interest if she
were just another Sarah or Jane. But now she couldn't go back to
Dorcas, and she couldn't stay with Hortence. She was at an unexpected
crossroads, one she had hoped she'd never have to face.

"Just who am I, anyway?"

====

, she asked herself as she hurriedly tossed clothes into a battered old travel case.

"I haven't used this case since . . . well, for twelve years, I guess", she joked to her reflection in the mirror as she grabbed her brush and some jewelry.

Closing the travel case and making a quick scan of the room her eyes stopped on a slip of paper perched on the edge of her nightstand. She slowly walked over, fearful of what she knew all too well she was about to find. She reached down and picked up the well read pamphlet and turned it over in her hands and the evening light through the blinds caught the title and drew her attention and she read the title aloud.

"John Wayne’s 100th Birthday with the Centennial Celebration".

As president of the local Cowby Music Singers Association she'd be expected to not only be at the celebration, but to make the keynote address. How would she explain her absence?

====

As "I'm an ol' Cow-hand, From the Rio Grande" played in her head, she

hummed along and looked at the pamplet. Then over at the bus ticket

in her other hand. She thought.... and hummed.

Winterset is 40 minutes away. Could it provide the cover she was needing, or would the very knowledge that Hortence Cumberpatch was in town drive

all the "men folk" crazy and blow her cover. There were options to consider. She could leave Des Moines and make a fresh start. Find another name that drives men crazy. Mable Hotsenpepper maybe? Or she could stay here and suffer the consequences. And now the new choice. Head for Winterset, have a few "date" nights, then read the speech and get the heck out of Dodge.. or Winterset.. or maybe Iowa all together. The more she thought about it, the more the choice was obvious. A few "date nights" never hurt anyone. Maybe do two or three in one night.... She dropped the bus ticket, grabbed her bag, and walked out the door....

Webber I'm Right

2007-07-03T20:03:00.001-07:00

This group had humble beginnings.. a little bit of fan fic that
started out on another email list. So here is the work that
started it all...



Part One: Webber I'm Right

Meredith and Derek break up over an elective spinal surgery gone wrong.
Searching for answers Meredith turns to her father who tells her that
he is too busy with his family,especially his ill granddaughter to deal 
with her problems at the moment. "call me tomorrow" he tells her.


Not knowing what to do.. or who to turn to, Meredith runs in to Chief
Webber. He gives her the most
valuable of information: Don't let medicine and men make you are hardened
as your mother. Find what
you need in life and go after it. That night, Meredith, Izzy, George
and newly single and new roommate
Cristina plot Meredith's new life focus "Get on with it" They called this
new life plan.

Part Two: Or Webber I'm Wrong.

Meredith seems to have the whole word at her feet. She is single and
together. What her friends do not know
is that she is slowly falling back into that world of slutty bar
pick-ups that she was once famous for.
When George discovers Meredith in her room with 2 guys, an
intervention is called for. Once again, she seems
on track. Then one night she is at Joe's. Having fun. Downing
shots with McSteamy, playing pool with
Karev, darts with some hottie she just met. Life isn't on
track after all.... Then she looks up and sees
Derek walk in the door (in slow motion) and behind him
(in super slowmo) is the chief.

Fade to black.

Fade to light. Hotel room. Meredith looks around, pulls her
hair back... she can't seem to remember
who she left the bar with... Then the bathroom door opens and
Chief Webber walks out in only his
boxer shorts.

Fade to black. End Credits

====

LOL, I love it! Of course, it will paint them into a bit
of a corner with the season finale, so the next season opener,
"Stormy Webber", will involve the discovery
of a tumor in Meredith's brain that is causing her to confuse
herself with her mother. It will be
said that Derek is the only one skilled enough to perform the
surgery, but upset at losing Meredith
to Webber he has taken leave and can't be located.

George tries to convince Christina that she is qualified to
operate,and just when she finally agrees, Derek returns to
save the day. But, wait, who is that beautiful
woman with him?

====

Could that woman be...... Camille? The Chief's niece,
now in remission, and suddenly a little older
and wiser than she was at her "prom".

====


More importantly: Where's the Chief?

====

After his escapades in the season finale with you-know-who,
he might be hoarding the penicillin and
trying to keep a low profile.

====

Maybe Karev wasn't patient zero in the syph epidemic after all??

====

Next week on Grey's Anatomy - - In "Sorry about that, Chief",
a dismayed nurse Olivia shares her
test results with an equally shocked Chief Webber.
Izzi bakes chocolate chip mini-muffins.

====

While eating one of Izzy's muffins, Bailey figures it all
out, and hires a contractor to come in and
plaster up the doorways to all On Call room and storage
rooms. She informs the Chief of her plan
and then says "Disgusting" under her breath as she walks
away. Chief smiles, pulls something out
of his pocket.. black  & lacy.. and says "Oh Miranda..."
Fade to Black, Roll Credits.

====

The Chief, flowers in hand, and armed with the knowledge
that Tucker is back in the hospital with
a "mysterious" recurrence of his earlier brain trauma
poises himself to knock on Miranda's door, his
mind his mind firmly fixated on her va-jay-jay.

The Chief knocks and the door opens slightly. He leans
and slowly peers through the crack.
The lights are off inside, but he can see just enough
to make out something black and lacy.
Something that matches the memento clutched in his
pocket. The door opens more, his eyes
adjust and begin to focus. He blinks and as he clutches
his chest and crumples to the ground
he screams, "Karev, what are...?!?"

<>

====

The ambulance reaches Seattle Grace Hospital,
Karev tightens the belt
on his trench coat a little tighter. Bailey meets
the ambulance in the bay
and asks Karev what he is doing with the Chief.
Karev mumbles something
and then starts giving her the vitals.

Once in exam room three, most of our cast is
gathered around the chief
working on him, though they are all really wondering
why Karev won't remove his trench coat.
As Karev turns to grab another bag of "O" neg the
buckle on the trench belt catches on
something and the trench slides open.. just as
Bailey looks up. He has on nothing but black
lacy women's "undergarments"

"What the hell? Karev is that my ........." she
cuts herself off. She takes a
deep breath "Get out Karev, Get out of here now".

====

Karev felt the heat rise in his cheeks and hoped
none of his peers noticed his embarrassment,
or his questionable choice in women's undergarments.

"Am I a bad person just because I like the feel of soft
nylon against my skin during my off hours?",
he thought to himself.

Karev handed the bag of "O" neg to Izzie, turned and
walked out the door hearing the sounds of
the team working feverishly to save the Chief's life.
The door to exam room three closed behind
him and he leaned against the wall and hung his head
hopelessly lost in feelings of despair.
Choking back the tears he knew he wanted to shed, but
couldn't, he heard the exam room door
open, but didn't look up to face what he assumed was the
inevitable reprimand from Bailey.

"Hi there", said George. "Wanna talk?"

====

"You know O'Malley, there isn't anything you could possibly
say to me to make this less embarrassing"
Karev said, with the Karev sneer planted firmly on
his face.

"I couldn't? Remember me? I slept with Meredith!
She cried while we had sex!"

Karev shook his head and punched George in the shoulder
"You don't get it do you? I have on Bailey's bra!"

"Do you like Bailey?" George asks,. innocently.

====

Karev smacks George in the shoulder harder, "No! I
don't "like" Bailey"... He pauses, and smacks
George again in the shoulder "I want to be Bailey"
he practically yells.

Suddenly Bailey's voice yells from the Exam room "You two,
get out of here! Get away from my
exam room"

Karev punches George in the shoulder again. George punches
him back except lighter. Karev
punches back... but lighter. Suddenly they look into
each other's eyes, the light punching has
turned to gentle tapping.
"I think you fill that bra out nicely" George barely whispers
Karev looks deeply into George's deep brown eyes,
"Meet me in the on call room...stat"
George nods and steps quietly backwards.

Bailey screams "Get the hell away from my exam room!"

====

George turns and starts to walk to the on call room,
barely able to hide the excitement evident
on both his face and in other areas. He pulls his
smock closer.

"Hello, O'Malley"

"Oh, hello, Dr. Burke. How's the tre . . ."

"What?", says Burke.

"What?", says Cristina.

"What?", says George.

"What were you about to say, O'Malley?"

"Uh, nothing, uh, I was just wondering how the
tre . . . tre . . . treble sounded on that new Eugene
Foote CD I bought you."

"Very good, O'Malley, very good. Yang and I are taking a
stroll down to the cafeteria, would you
care to join us?"

"No, thank you, Dr. Burke. I'm meeting Karev to explore,
er, to examine, uh, to go over some case
notes and I'm late now."

"Very well, O'Malley."

"Did you see what I saw, Preston?"

"What was that, Cristina?"

"I don't know, but either that was the largest stethoscope
 I've ever seen in George's smock, or he
was certainly happy to see me!"

"It's always about you, isn't it?"

"Not always, Burke, not always. And what was that all
about, you haven't listened to a Eugene Foote
CD since he was lost in the OR. Are you hiding something?
If you're hiding something I should know
because I'm your girlfriend and you shouldn't hide anything
from your girlfriend.", said Cristina
between gulps of super caffeinated coffee as she and Burke
continued down the hall toward the
cafeteria.

"No, I'm not hiding anything, Yang.", Burke said, becoming
more annoyed. "When will you realize
that it's not always about you? I'm worrying about my career
and my position here and I can't
always compensate and cover for your emotional shortcomings!"

====

"I don't have time for this today" Cristina said in a huff
and walked away.

Burke watched her walk down the hallway... he leaned
against the wall and a small smile came
to his face...

(Fade in eerie flashback music.....)

Burke flashes back.... as his smile grows larger.

"O'Malley" he called out loudly as he enters the Doctors locker room.

Only the sound of a shower running is heard.

Burke takes off his scrub top, and opens up a locker room.

A faint sound of George singing in the shower is now heard.
Burke smiles and grabs a towel...

He steps into the shower and sees two shadows. He pulls back the curtain.
It's O'malley and he is scrubbing Chief Webber's back.

"Preston" Webber says, "You know how you much you would like my job
when I retire?"

Preston nods... a little shocked by what he is seeing....

Webber smiles "Then grab that other Loofah and help O'Malley
with my back. I need some heavy duty exfoliating".

(Eerie flashback music fades back in and then out)

Back to real time.

Burke leans up, wide smile on his face and mumbles to
himself "That was one promotion I didn't
mind working it for" And he heads on down the hall...
 with a little skip in his step.

====

"Wow, I've never really noticed how bright and cheerful the
hallways are here at Seattle Grace",
Burke thought to himself as he basked in the afterglow of
his memory. "So many memories, so many
*good* memories and what am I doing? I spend my energy on
my career and never stop and pay
attention to the important things in life. Maybe I should
just hang up my smock and . . ."

"Hey, Dr. Burke"

"Wha? Oh, Karev, how are you"?

"Fine sir, are you alright? You were smiling like I've
never seen you smile before."

"Yes, Karev, I'm fine. I'm just recalling a less stressful
time is all. I'm sure you can relate."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you still working with Dr. Sloan?"

"No, sir, I'm actually going to meet George."

"O'Malley? I just saw him a few minutes ago. What's going on?"

"Oh, uh, nothing, sir. We were just gonna brush up on some
procedure is all."

"I see, well then, carry on, Karev. Karev, is it just my
imagination, or are you wearing Addison Shephard's panties?"

"No, they're actually Dr. Bailey's panties and dammit, I'm
not ashamed to admit it."

"That's alright, Karev, you have nothing to be ashamed about."

"Uh, Dr. Burke, would you like to join George and I?"

====

Burke smiled, "Karev... I could just ki...." he was
interrupted by his ringing
cell phone. "I'll meet you both there" Burke said
and flipped his phone open.
"Burke" he said.

"Preston" It was Adele Webber. "We need to talk"

"I can't. Not now. I am about to scrub in for a
triple bypass"

"Don't lie Preston." She said. "We have a deal. I want my
husband back
and you want to be chief of surgery. If I remember right,
you said you would
do anything... anything,... sex, lies, blackmail.
Murder. Murder, Preston.
Do you recall saying that? Murder?"

"I know what I said" Burke said, sharply, under his breath.

"Well then, now that you have all you need for the
blackmail part of the
scheme, I think it is time we move on to the murder
part. Be at my house
tonight at 8pm... and we will discuss who you are
taking out.  Got it.

Burke didn't respond. He just flipped the phone closed.
How could a day
start so right and go so wrong.....

====

As soon as he disconnected the phone Burke knew that
Adelle's call had put his plans with Bailey
and Karev on hold. If he wasn't careful how he
proceeded from here, those plans might be on hold
forever. He walked outside, pulled the collar of his
smock up to provide some protection from the
rain and wind and lit a cigarette.

How could a day start so right and go so wrong,
he asked himself again.

Burke knew his options were limited. Sure, he could
turn on Adelle, maybe even bring in the cops,
but where would that leave him? Her influence was too
far-reaching and mugs like him who jumped
into the witness protection program often had a knack of
turning up on a cold slab in the morgue.
There was also Cristina to consider. He'd been alone all
these years for a reason and now that he'd
finally decided to open up to another human being there was
no telling how Adelle might use that
relationship as leverage against him. No, he couldn't put
Cristina through that. He wouldn't put
Cristina through that.

Turning on Adelle was out of the question.

Bringing in the cops was out of the question.

Blowing smoke on the glowing ember of his cigarette he
thought back to how he got to where
he was today, how he beat all the odds to become a
successful surgeon on the brink of realizing
his lifelong dream of becoming Chief of Surgery of a
major hospital. He was almost there, close
enough to touch it. He realized he really only
had one option. Fingering the snub nosed .38 in his
pocket he knew he'd have to meet Adelle and find
out exactly what it was she wanted and then
improvise.

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