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In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
hahaha, well fuck it, we had better ask Sam about the bandages, you ask him Becky, said Tina.
No you do it, Tina, said Becky
Sam has been calling me Saint Tina lately, said Tina
Oh for fucks sake Saint Tina, okay I will do it, said Becky
Do you think it suits me, you know the “saint” thing? I rather like it. Sam is such a sweetie-pooh said Tina.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
This Ogrean character seems to be getting alot of stick, eh, Tina, Becky was frowning.
Yeah, Tina agreed, Bit OTT if you ask me. Dunno what all that’s about.
Seems like a scapegoat really, Becky mused, but in truth she was perplexed.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky, what is Sam talking about with all those stinky juicy bandages?
Fucked if I know, Tina, I was hoping you could tell me!
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Claudio rubbed the grimy dagger on his shirt tail. There was a row of jewels along the hilt, ruby, emerald, sapphire, amethyst…
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
oh, well, it should be Jo, without an “e” I guess, said Tina. Hmmmm shall we just delete it then? It’s ages since I have deleted anything, and we can’t have it not making sense, she added, trying to keep a straight face.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky scratched her head in confusion. She wondered if she’d ever catch up with all the new characters and story lines in the Reality Play. Who the fuck was Joe? Yeah, he was cute, but who was he?
Becky sneezed again and shivered. Her cold was making her feel strangely disconnected and floaty. Nothing made much sense anymore, but it didn’t really seem to matter.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
That Abe sure is ugly as a burnt boot and crazier than a run over coon, aint he, said Isadora, one of the saloon girls who Twilight didn’t cotton on to much. The other girls laughed.
Twilight was real fond of old Abe, and truth was she was feeling right tetchy and pernikity and itching for a fight, and she weren’t much in the mood for dancing that night.
And your brain cavity wouldn’t make a drinkin cup for a canary Isadora. So why don’t you just shut that big old stupid mouth of yours before everyone cottons on to the fact that you are studying to be a half-wit.
Why you are nothing but a no-good little strumpet, screeched Isadora, lunging at Twilight and trying to grab her blond wig. Twilight stepped nimbly out of the way.
And you aint nothing but a stupid little buckle bunny, taunted Twilight. You got nothing better to do then follow those rodeo fellows around?
Snakes Alive! exclaimed Madame Butterbutt. Will you both hold yer tongues and stop yer bitching. And will you get a hurry on Twilight. Yer ain’t even dressed yet.
Isadora started crying. That Twilight started it, she snivelled.
Sooner i get rid of this damn one horse town the better, muttered Twilight under her breath. She touched the jewelled dagger lodged between her breasts. Those damn liquor breath cowboys better not mess with me tonight.
Old Abe, propping up the bar, chuckled
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Arona curled up in front of the fire with little Yikesy. Vincentius was telling Yikesy one of his intriguing and colourful tales of far away, imaginary worlds …. there seemed to be men with toads and a girl who liked to dance and a strange blue bull creature that everyone wanted to get their hands on. To be quite honest, Arona couldn’t really follow it, but she loved the sound of Vincentius’ soothing voice. She sighed happily, it was so nice to be back.
In reply to: The Room of Requirements
Ohoh, I slightly modified a chunk of code that mangled the links with an ampersand (&) and now, behold…
I could be brown
I could be blue
I could be violet sky
I could be hurtful
I could be purple
I could be anything you like
Gotta be green
Gotta be mean
Gotta be everything more
Why don’t you like me?
Why don’t you like me?
Why don’t you walk out the door!
(From Mika’s Grace Kelly)
Here’s the code…
p=. I could be %{color:blue}blue% and *bold*…to produce that:
I could be blue and bold
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
SCHPOOOOOOOH!
In the saloon everybody became silent.
That noise was so awful.
What could it possibly be?
As Jo entered the saloon, he was startled by the unusual quietness of it. And he was even more startled to see Mc Gaughran covered with bandages, filthy and juicy bandages. He seemed quite paralyzed with terror. Did he see something horrid? He was coughing harshly.
Jo couldn’t help but laugh. And every one in the saloon began shyly to laugh also.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
was still wandering about… what the fuck… 
and suddenly she exploded like all those little lemmings in the game Oh No!
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Marvin Scrozzezi was considering a script that had been sent to him by his friend.
Betty, his assistant, had insisted that he reads it…Seeing his current movie, it couldn’t be any worse in any case.
The title of the script cracked him up.Ogregan, the Origeans
Marvin giggled, almost spluttering his smoking chai on the script.
He started to read the first paragraphs.
FADE IN: EXT. WOODS A big humphing man plunges into the woods. Twigs slap at him, but the sound of gunfires keeps him going. Sheriff Marshall is taking the lead, but an auburn haired man plunges into the woods before him, followed by one dark-haired one. They are obviously brothers. The older one is ELVIN STREWN, he is following his younger brother with the lopsided hair, JAY STREWN. JAY is shooting at the fugitive, ALDO MC GALLIGAN, a local mobster known as the OGREGAN. Gunfire explodes in trees near the STREWN brothers, shot at them by MC GALLIGAN, and they dive and roll into hiding under a palisade.Interesting stuff, wonders Marvin… That mobster looks like a fascinating character…
Flipping though the script he found page 57 another catching bit of reading…
DISSOLVE TO: EXT. PROSPERITY BANK ; SHOT of a Texan bank on a quiet street. INT. PROSPERITY BANK There are three customers, male. Enters a MOTHER and her SON. TELLER#1: What can I do for you Mrs MC GALLIGAN? MRS GALLIGAN to her SON who is drawing on her dress: ALDO, will you keep still for a moment, good for nothing!…
Pfff, Marvin sighed, feeling bored.
Not long after, he was sound asleep, snoring loudly on the comfortable chair.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Jo was coming back to the saloon… he saw the new guy rushing out, very pale and sweaty face… his skin around his eyes were of a bad red. He seemed feverish and freezing. He saw him open his saddlebag and take an old dirty sweater, quite yellowish and quite fitting with his face color.
He thought for a moment of the itchy fever, no, he dismissed the thought quickly, this fever was… no that simply wasn’t possible. This deadly fever hadn’t been heard of for years now.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Ted always felt the cold, and the saloon was freezing. He clenched his chattering teeth for as long as he could, and then could stand it no longer. He dashed outside to grab a sweater out of his saddlebag, grimacing with cold.
The Sheriff, trembling with cold, tugged at the sleeve of his sweater, and inadvertently pulled a small canvas bag out, spilling the contents all over the side of Dervish, his horse.
Hallucinogenic green frogs boinged and scattered all over the place.
Yikes! shouted Ted. This is gonna be one helluva f’kin trip now!
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Ted was quite fond of Ogrean.
Twilight was a bit sorry for the sheriff, for she had thought him a good guy at first,… whatever that means… but obviously he was a bit blinded by the slickness of the slimy condescending Pompousaur.But something interesting had happened this day, and she wondered how it would change things again.
Apparently, from what she had caught from the scene, Ted had left the saloon in a cold rage, and it was quite obvious that the Pudgeon was a bit distraught… What could have moved the jovial sheriff like that?When she and Anna were changing clothes behind the scene after the representation, Anna started to talk quite freely and unexpectedly about the accident.
— That Marshall guy is not as silly as he seems…
As she was more talking to herself, Twilight didn’t answer.
— What d’ya reckon? Anna asked more directly
— Oh me? I don’t really know what happened…
— Don’t play dumb with me, girl. You’re smarter than you wanna show.Twilight took some time to ponder…
— I don’t think that Ogrean tried to bribe the sheriff, not as obviously…
— Yeah…
— Apparently, he started to explain the sheriff who he was supposed to arrest, and that didn’t please him the least.
— More likely, yes. Definitely sounds like him…
— Anna?
— Yes?Twilight almost wanted to tell her how she did understand Anna and how it must have been difficult for her with that child from Mc Gaughran, but she couldn’t express all of that.
— Terry is sweet.
— Yes he is, he’s a lovely boy. I love him so much despite…
— I know.When she came back to their ranch, Twilight felt relieved somewhat about what had occurred. Perhaps that this era of heavy cloaked ruthless order incarnated by Ogrean was coming to an end.
She was a hopeless dreamer.In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary
December 5 th, 2007
My dear friend Elias has whispered this to Yurick this morning, which he has apparently connected.
“Through your inner senses, you may connect with vibrational tones. Everything within your perception incorporates a vibrational tone. Your table incorporates a vibrational tone. Every molecule, every atom, every unit of consciousness incorporates a vibrational tone. Therefore, within your inner senses your ‘objective,’ so to speak, would be to be connecting with an individual scenario of connection of vibrational tones, of which there are more than you may count.” [Elias #79, March 17, 1996]
In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
mother perfect create, let mind self care, real beginning inside, focused, great, easily …
nice trip! getting story, already morning tell night making, finn managed against loved ago family focuses.
eyes far, surprise yourself! connected, crying, quiet.
dear Armelle, whatever experience smiled, gift noticed.
In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
That inaugural draw started like that
Language (bad bart) managed fact book. Applause! Focused Quintin himself happening… quickly images dancing, Tina slowly wondered aspects given sisters. Try kept Salome during decision… Sound trust money; truth. Smiled under family. Floating needed blue, growing yesterday
Topic: Scrying the Word Cloud
I’m starting a new discussion if you find some interesting message in the Word Cloud of our energy deposits.
Or poems, or nonsense…Feel free to indulge
From wikipedia on scrying : Scrying or crystal gazing is the occult practice of using a medium, most commonly a reflective surface or translucent body, to aid perceived psychic abilities such as clairvoyance. The media often used to “see” are water, polished precious stones, crystal balls, or mirrors.
