Daily Random Quote

  • Becky and Sean had been honeymooning in Galle , on the southwestern coast of Sri Lanka, for just over a week. It hadn’t been going too well, truth be told, as Becky had become increasingly frustrated at her broadening waistline, and Sean had discovered the joys of cashew fenny liquor. You’re not getting fat, Becky, you’re pregnant! ... · ID #941 (continued)
    (next in 10h 39min…)

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  • #914

    Mmm, would there be retaliations?… he started to wonder again.

    #913
    Jib
    Participant

      The afternoon was hot, a bit moist and sticky too. Yurick and Yann were enjoying the freshness of Dory’s patio.
      Cold lemon drink in cocktail glasses, the radio playing some sun related song.
      Dan was out playing golf with friends and would be here for dinner.
      Dory, dozing on her rocking chair had told Yurick and Yann that they could use their computers, they had 2 of them, so Yurick could take Dory’s and Yann could take Dan’s. Yurick was busy checking his mails and answering all those who had submitted some article for the next issue of their e-zine, and Yann wanted some distraction. He was just looking at some pictures on Gurgle, some movies on Yootune. Some of them were cracking him up, and he had difficulties keeping his :-| face serious.
      At the same time he was browsing through Dan’s pictures folders. Some of them were really amazing. Pictures of Dory on the field, with her pith helmet and her brushes, her shovels or even her pick. She was very funny looking when she was finding something seemingly out of nowhere, having dug all day long with no result and then finally some treasure! Often, Yann thought, it was only some fragment of a vase or some broken tool, but she always had this awe-inspired gaze ;))

      What is the name of this singer again?, asked Yurick.
      You ask me?

      The grin on Yurick’s face was all that Yann was waiting for. Yann had no memory of names of singers or actors. Their face, once he had seen it were recorded in his mind, but their name was like a summer breeze, refreshing, but soon forgotten. He knew that Yurick was more asking that to himself.

      Dunno me luv. You can ask the mummy in the living room if you want…
      Hahaha, graowl

      Hehehe. Funny that, thought Yann. Coming back to the computer screen, his eyes fall on a strange folder name.
      Patate? What’s that!?
      Double-click.
      Just a few files. Videos mainly. The names weren’t very evocative…
      Yann picked one and waited for the movie to begin.
      It was kind of black and white movie… the grain was gross and old fashioned. There was no audio.
      Yann had an old memory of a similar movie seen on the comodor computer of his cousin’s parents… his cousin had told him about some weird movie he had found in a floppy disk of his father…
      So, there was a man, maybe in his 60’s, he was wearing a gray bathing suit and was a bit hairy. Drinking some kind of grey cocktail.
      A girl came in… with an amazing leopard baby-doll!!! from what Yann could see, she was blond and fleshy. Oh! and she had some friends. All of them with a leo-part on them :-?

      Ahem! Yurick? Wanna see what I found?
      Hmmm
      I’m sure you’ll find some interest :)) hahaha! Oh my Flove! She’s really doing it!?
      =))

      Seeing his friend hilarious picked the curiosity of Yurick and he eventually came to see. The look on his face when he saw what was happening was too much for Yann who burst into laughter. That was enough to wake Dory who almost fell off her rocked chair.

      What is that? Where did you find that… thing? Dory looked offended, but soon she was blushing.
      Oh! no… don’t look at that. It was a youthful mistake…

      #912

      Oh, shite, an aghast Yurick told Finn in the messaging window.
      What? asked Finn who was giggling (with great dignity) at the new comment he’d just made
      There will be retaliations says the cloud:

      “quickly storm stupid Dory closer front
      try suddenly syncs side free creating
      taken empty dreams let thread open
      against beautiful picked”…

      #911
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Al woke up with a start.

        In his dream, Becky’s children were born prescient, with a tint of green in the eyes, due to the amount of psychotropic laced reindeer she had ingested a few days before the conception…

        Oh my Flove, what have we done

        #1509
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Referrer list

          :notepad: An new (small) [but hopefully useful] feature added today, the Search for referrers link next to the comments links.

          :creating_magic: It should give you the comments list referring to the comment you are reading. Useful when you’re reading an old comment, and trying to find (more recent) information using that comment.

          When you are in the search list, don’t forget you need to click on the highlighted excerpt, and not on the title link, to be sent directly to that comment.

          On a side note, don’t hesitate to link previous comments to the ones you are writing, so that it creates more back-links…

          #910

          Me? said Armelle. Well I would, of course, however you may have noticed I am twice my usual size and may get stuck if I attempt to go and open the way. I will be more than happy to lend energy to the process as I deflate.

          #909

          The confusion that Claude had made on the spiders ranks had been all that Phurt had waited for.
          In her agitation she hadn’t felt the signals that the Mother had been hurt during the fight.

          The only thing that obsessed Phurt now was that a way was now clear for the giant spider to go nearer the “wortex”. She could feel it, it was coming from the elder tree, the roots of which went spreading miles and miles away.
          Perhaps she could subjugate that raw power, consume it wholly and become one with it.

          But, as she went closer and closer, she started to feel as if she wasn’t the one eating or absorbing it, but the reverse was true. She started to struggle as she felt sucked into the wortex, crying as she felt doomed to oblivion, as old Narani had been telling them. How stupid had she been, she should have heard her. And as the Mother was now dying instead of becoming the new Mother, she was now about to die with her.
          But now was too late for laments. She had to embrace her destiny, and if it meant to die, she would, with pride.

          :fleuron:

          They all had felt it simultaneously. Armelle and the Snoot on the borgulm tree, Yuki and Rafaela, waiting with Anita near the perimeter made by the spiders, and Akayli the werelynx, carrying the mummified parents.

          What’s happening Claude asked to the owl

          One of the giant spiders went through the hole, and we’ll have to follow her said Yuki to Anita.

          The good thing is that the turmoil will keep the wortex opened a little longer Akayli thought to himselves.

          Armelle, go open the way now the Snoot whispered to the owl, then poofed away in a gurgling liquid sound.

          #908

          They won’t stop those nasty buggers! Tearing apart all our beauty machines! Awww, poor Vessie will be devastated! Gloria said sadly, coming dangerously close to the spot
          Watch’out Glo! Sharon cried as a menacing magpie came cawing at her while the others were ripping the machine apart in gruesome metallic sounds.
          Bugger! Bugger! cried Gloria Won’t bloddy poke me eyes! She started to wave her arms and kick out in erratic movements to brush out the bouncing and flying bird.

          STAY CLEAR! the voice of Sha thundered a few moments after, and before Gloria could notice anything, a big thud with a crunching sound went zooming past her.
          Bloddy brilliant Sha! Gloria said, spreading the fatty fingers of her hands off her face to look at the magpie crunched under a coconut. Not so proud now, bloddy bugger! she sniggered at the bird.

          She almost giggled as she looked up on her friend. In a second, she understood how the coconut had been thrown. Ye’re bloody genius Sha! Wouldn’t have thought of using me bra as a sling! she beamed at her nearly naked friend wearing all but wrinkles and padding.

          Oh the buggers, won’t get away with it! an all bucked up Gloria said, stripping her bra off her opulent breasts.
          Dammit, they got something! T’s‘all shiny like a crystal ball! Must be a U.V. lamp or something
          They won’t get away with it! We’ll knock ‘em out one by one those nasty buggers; any more coconuts by yourself sweetie?
          Got aye few pomegranates here
          Go fer it!

          #907

          Will you stop the jig now! You want to make us both end up in a tree or what? an exasperated Armelle snapped at her uncooperative passenger who stopped as soon as the clear voice of the owl had been heard.
          A talking owl now? Is that a bad spoof of Jurassic Park?
          Oh stop the sarcasm Armelle said, rolling her eyes almost by reflex at the remark, and quickly coming back to her sense after she started to lose direction in an unexpected loop stunting, scratching her wings in low branches and ending on all fours on top of a big borgulm tree .

          Greetings little poohs, the grinning Snoot, all liquid fur red with the juice of the fruits greeted them. The Snoot has been expecting you and you

          #906

          Armelle was aware that everybody would be there in any minute now…
          The one who had come from the wortex wouldn’t hold long in the middle of these huge creatures. He had managed to injure or even kill a few of them, but though he showed no trace of fatigue yet, his body was bruised.

          Ah, she sighed, feeling herself on the brink of doing something stupid. Taking a few deep breaths, she hold them until one could see the beautiful snowy owl starting to inflate like a rubber balloon, her size became twice, or thrice bigger than usual.

          In a few minutes, she was as big as the mythical thunderbirds of the Native myths.

          Taking a look at her waist, she sighed again. Hope I won’t get any stretch marks…

          She then pounced on the heap of fighting bodies, and came back in the airs holding Claude in her talons.

          #905

          — If you have an idea, then tell it quick, said Akita, this place gives me the creeps.
          — Remember how Kay’s having this nice werewolf form in his shape-shifting bag of tricks?
          — Yes, but he cannot really hold it for very long… Wouldn’t be easier if you just teleport us or something?
          — Well, the thing is, yes, that would work for us, but that would take too long to teach you, not to say the parents. We can’t really count on their cooperation for now… and it’s perhaps better that way, because I’m not sure they would really believe they can do it anyway.
          — So the real question is, Kay interrupted, how do we move quickly with two stoned weights?
          — Exactly. My suggestion is that we combine our energies. I must say I’m quite fond of the werewolf outfit, it’s brawny and forces respect, and besides, you and Akita know how to operate it.
          — I think I get your point. So how do we do?
          — Just let Kay merge with you, and I’ll facilitate the anchoring, said Araili.

          Kay started to swirl around Akita in a swoosh of air, while Araili faded into the background to become a force-field around them, getting tighter and tighter, until all three were a ball of light and poofed back in the form of a twelve-feet tall impressive werelynx.

          GRRRREAT, growled Akayli the beast. Let’s move on.

          Baring his claws, he delicately tore off the mummifying silky threads to unwrap the two parents, and taking each of them under the hairy soft grey arms, sprung out of the nest to the forest in quick bounces.

          #904

          The portal has opened, we must hurry said Araili

          Araili had felt something more, that he didn’t want to share yet with Akita and his spirit dog Kay. He had felt that something, or someone was trying to make its way from the wortex. However, the whole area was tightly held in a sort of quarantine by the giant spiders. Their genetic ancestral memory was aware of previous huge bleedthroughs like this one, and they had what humans would call “prophecies” amongst their kin, of such occurrences being heralds of tremendous upheavals.
          Araili, who was extending far beyond this guise of a lynx that he had taken now, smiled when he thought of how some of his earthly medieval focuses would have been similarly frightened by natural events like eclipses.

          It did not take long to them to find Anita’s parents. They were right at the spot that the big arachnid had just left, wrapped in silky spider bandages with little skin left to breathe.

          They seem alive. checked Akita. Heavily sedated, but alive… Now, we’ll have to get them out of here quick.
          I think I have an idea smiled Araili.

          :fleuron:

          Claude had finally came out of what he thought was just a strange tree, but then, his preternatural senses where telling him something was wrong. This place looked different. No, this place felt different.
          And smelt different too.

          There were soft sounds, crawlings he could hear, very near his place. They were coming from him, but he would fight.
          He jumped on a tree, and in a few vigorous movements, was perched on top of it.
          He almost gapped when he saw the black circle of huge spiderly creatures around his tree.

          They were staying at a distance from the wortex. But for how long… He couldn’t wait for his death.

          From the top of the tree, Claude jumped unscathed. Taking a look around, he found exactly what he needed.
          Breaking a few sharp bamboos poles, he started his move to the black circle in a prodigious and accelerated run.

          :fleuron:

          From atop a nearby tree, Armelle was considering the whole scene. The wortex would probably last a few hours, perhaps a bit more. Anita, Rafaela and Yuki were about to be here soon, she had warned them of the spider circle, so that they would hide until she has found them a way to get through.

          She had not expected someone to come out of it. That may be her way…

          :fleuron:

          Phurt was coming closer and closer now. She could feel the surge of power, and the trepidation raising all the hair on her legs. She couldn’t possibly confront all of the sisters. Not yet.
          She had to find a way to get past.

          As if Arachneiax, Goddess of her kind had heard and answered her plea, a dying cry, confusion, and call for help came to her senses from a border of their circle. A perfect diversion…

          #903
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Well, it’s well known that abrupt hormone changes can act as a trigger that may provoke certain kinds of logorrhoea , as well as craving for unusual foods… said Al with a roll of his eyes when he saw the cyputer cooling system running all berserk after the new entry was made… 8-X

            #902
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Blimey O Riley, said Becky when she read what she’d written the previous evening. As she read it over again, though, a picture began to form in her mind, a character was starting to form.

              I was connecting to a focus, she surmised, A focus as a simple country washerwoman. A simple person, choosing to experience a life of simple pleasures, not bogged down with deep meaningful thoughts or ideas; not striving for insights or accomplishments, a pure and simple life for a pure and simple soul.

              The washerwoman used words differently, she didn’t use words to communicate with anyone, she simply used the bubbling gurgling endless stream of sounds to amuse herself…endlessly babbling, always smiling, infinitely amused with the sheer joyous nonsense of the sounds tumbling from her lips, broadcasting seeds of absurdity in the cornfields and the meadows of the hay hoo down dooly…..

              #901
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                :yahoo_rofl:

                Maybe Al can use the new cyersnooter to sort it out.

                #900

                START! said Tina.

                Becky and Tina were doing a meditation together, and Becky decided to just write whatever popped into her head. She could always delete it afterwards, or edit it, she reasoned.

                “Bagpush got out of the washtub”, Becky scribbled, “ And scooted down along the river line to the marks butty big one by the farm. Heavens above, fishly, what’s that brown thing on the water butt? Gawbsmacker said, don’t be talking like that, shekeltons in a hide to ho where and its first light, fair bright and hey ho the wash go. Abbon Ipswich, slaty flats of corncake, hey dee on the wash bucket, spittin in the hole hey down dooly. Margaret Apsworth laying on the white cotton cake spread, fair dooly down the one hooly. Ay and its a hey ho fair fooly down by the wash pooly, drum rolling in the har fool haley, down by the dash darnly. I said, hey ho the brown tooly, hoggin all the raw tooly, stewing in the far fooly for eight pence an hour. Said Mavis of the green sportwear, theres may flowers in the far horse hair, weel butter in the spar for tucker and muck down in the cow butter, said bree in the bird barny, a flying for the far fooly, well its knees up and out your dooly for the green hay beer fair. Its a fine night for a hooly in the row bottom in the far fooly, said mavis of the tom fooly, in the wash bucket down stairs. Once more, sell a nickel farthing, in the morning and in the darning, and say way more is in the star sign than a wash bucket down stairs.”

                Good greif, exclaimed Becky, What was all that about?

                What a load of twaddle, Becky, said Tina with a laugh.

                Well you know what? It was kind of fun and refreshing to just write nonsense
                I am sick of things MEANING something, Becky said, and then, warming to her subject:

                Lets have some good old fashioned MEANINGLESSNESS!

                #1803

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster


                  Yesterday sync: while watching a series, something popped in in relation to the crystal skulls.

                  The thing is, Roslin, the woman character on the screenshot, is a president dying from a cancer, and is wearing a black wig. We had been discussing black wig with Finn previously.

                  Later that night, Tracy shared about an experience that she and her friends just had during the afternoon, which was interpreted by Arkandin as a bleedthrough from a dying focus of her friend’s husband. He said that this focus would be in Chile.
                  Tracy inquired if there was a Chile thread already in the story, to which I told her there was

                  And I was quite impressed to see there was a connection not only to crystal skulls and Chile, but also with dying person, and wig…

                  L-)

                  #899
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    WOW, breathed Becky, temporarily rendered speechless, her mind reeling pleasantly as she caught up on recent additions to the reality play. Wow, she said again, feeling somehow foggy, but full of wondrous magical things.

                    #898

                    She was feeling blank. It was as if she had no memories of what had happened before. At least she had still the notion that she was a she… wasn’t she? It wasn’t really clear, as she had mixed up feelings. There weren’t any physical sensation in the place she was. Indeed, she was having difficulties finding herself. She began to wonder what was this feeling of her she was aware of. To what was it connected? And thus, she realized she was too focused on the question itself to get any answer.
                    The letting go released a dam of sensations and informations. She was overwhelmed by all that she was and all that seemed to be thrust upon her senses. But the resistance was what could create pain, she knew that from another time where she was living the same thing. Resisting the communication was like wanting to resist a herd of fleeing raghlors.
                    She was feeling a presence in all this mess, something familiar :-?
                    Was that herself looking at herself looking at herself looking at herself looking…
                    Her memory of what she was trying to do came as lightning. The sudden realization of her numerous tentatives at this exercise made her cry… would she fail again?
                    She had to find these other aspects of her, put them into a common direction… but there were so many of hers! which ones should she call to follow her? Which ones would follow her, if any? She felt sudden despair coming from everywhen. Despairs that she was aware did not belong to her, but they were powerful, almost annihilating her will. Images of massacres of people she knew, of people that her other selves knew, massacre that she had perpetrated herself or that she was perpetrating… any sensation of time could fit.

                    :yahoo_at_wits_end: :yahoo_doh: :yahoo_crying: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_whew: :yahoo_skull:

                    Despair was imprisoning her and she knew she already had failed because of that. It was shadowing her motivation, giving her that hollow sense of herself, shielding her from…

                    :creating_magic:

                    Asiir, is that you? The energy was familiar and the name was a translation in her mind. It was an anchor point in all these mess of hers.
                    Asiir, help me!

                    The feeling was faint, so far away. But as she was focusing more on it, she noticed her different selves were intrigued and gathering around it. And there they were together. A feeling of ecstasy filled her up… and out of her body herself was huge. The presence was gaining in intensity and it was as if it was her who was allowing Asiir’s energy to be expressed toward herself.

                    HAHAHAHAHA a thunderous laugh.
                    Startled for a moment she almost lost contact with Asiir. But their bond was stronger this time. She was filled with joy and self-assurance.

                    At last, you are beginning to understand, Lola. We can go on and take the next step now.

                    She was truly riding her dragon, :face-grin: , it was wondrous.

                    Well, technically you are lying on the floor of the marshes of doooom, but…

                    All of a sudden, everything was gone, she was back to her body, Asiir looking at her and nudging her left arm with her snout.
                    WOW, what a crippled body! How many times did she tried? Would he kill her with that, bloody bastard… a feeling of anger was infuriating her, and filling her body up, heating it up. How could he possibly be so inhuman?

                    May I recall you I’m a dead guy? and furthermore, my focus wasn’t human… I just appear human to your eyes because you want me to appear like that. You have no representation of how my species could look like, but I may show you…
                    … soon.

                    #895

                    The woman’s voice raised softly in the dark, like a velvet caress, or the sound of a purring cat.

                    Life was long before I met Georges. Not unbearable, but so long and lifeless. Days would pass, and nothing new would happen but the same matter the previous days were made of.
                    Though I no longer align to these limitations, I was once human, born to Earth, as Georges was, in a not so distant past. Like most of my people, I was not feeling special. But my will was strong and my desire to survive too. I survived poverty, lust and violence. In the crucible of these emotions I’ve melted my fears, and it was there I found Georges too.

                    A curtain raises in the dark. A palace in an exotic tropical place. Brunei? Al doesn’t know this place…
                    A young dark haired woman in a small room, around sixteen, perhaps a bit less, disheveled. She looks wildly around her, her rags stained with dust and dirt.

                    Enters a tall woman. She doesn’t seem local. British perhaps. She’s elegantly dressed, thin mouth, high cheekbones, apparently in charge. A maid follows her. She can speak the girl’s language.

                    Where is my mother? Let me out of here! she starts to cry
                    I’m afraid this is not possible, Salome. For your safety,…
                    What do you care about my safety!
                    For your safety, Salome, hear me, try to behave. The Sultan is not a man without a heart. He loves beautiful women, and that is what probably saved your neck, considering what all what your mother did wrong to him refusing to pay taxes and her obstinate and bare-faced smuggling. Listen Salome, this might save you, and might save your mother as well.

                    The curtain falls on the scene, where Salome hopes to have found a friend of captivity with this woman.

                    A few years later, still in the golden cage of the harem, occasionally asked to service the lustful and violent Sultan, I start to go explore the depths of my misery. My inner world was a safe sanctuary, a haven from the pit of hell where I was now living, after my childhood years of hard work in the forest. There, where no one was given the key to enter, I became aware of him. I first thought he was an imaginary friend, a messenger from the other world, greeting me to a sure death. But he was real. He started to talk to me. About what I could do, like him, be a Traveler, if I wanted to.

                    The curtain raises again. Young Salome is lying on her straw mat, in a seeming delirium. She moans, whispers, weeps, laughs. No one in the harem seem to care any longer. She is probably possessed, but the Sultan still find her suitable, she can’t be touched.

                    A roar can be heard in the palace. The big black-bearded Sultan Ojylam the Second, ogre look on his face, summons his guard.

                    — Don’t worry Salome, the voice of Georges whispers in the dark. The Sultan is mad at Madame Chesterhope. She has just fled with his precious crystal skull, but he won’t find her. She’s a skilled Traveler too, as soon you will be dear Salome, once you have learnt my last tricks, and we soon will be united.
                    — Why that stupid crystal skull?
                    — Don’t worry about it… This one is the Birds Skull. It carries lots of information and magic in relation to the Birds Realm, but it should be the least of your concerns. We’ll find Madame Chesterhope even if she’s clever at hiding between dimensions. Only concern for you must be to get out of here.
                    — The Sultan will know I told her about it… I should have known, he was so proud of this object, and so protective too… And she was so curious…
                    — That’s why we must hurry now.

                    And so we were united for the first time. Lots of other lives have occurred afterwards, different paths at times, but always we have found each other again. Eternally bound, in a most sacred bound…

                  Viewing 20 results - 3,761 through 3,780 (of 4,843 total)

                  Daily Random Quote

                  • Becky and Sean had been honeymooning in Galle , on the southwestern coast of Sri Lanka, for just over a week. It hadn’t been going too well, truth be told, as Becky had become increasingly frustrated at her broadening waistline, and Sean had discovered the joys of cashew fenny liquor. You’re not getting fat, Becky, you’re pregnant! ... · ID #941 (continued)
                    (next in 10h 39min…)

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