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  • #2019

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      SITTING IN THE sun reading THE magic journal AFTER A walk, THE connection TO elikozoe AND CO WAS full IN MY MIND. I FELL Asleep quickly, must BE THE short NIGHTS ON earth. WOKE UP WITH A ParchED feeling AND felt LIKE A bride cleaning UP AFTER THE WEDDING. I noticed IT seemed LIKE A FASTliving week FOR THE sand aspects OF THE DRAGONS, SO I googled IT TO TRY AND sort IT OUT.

      #811
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Elioctyl had been trying in vain for years to attract the attention of the museum cleaning lady, Ella Marie Tindale.

        Ella Marie had lived in Alabama all her life, and her parents before her. Some of her ancestors were native to this land, some from the distant shores of Africa. She loved the stories of the old ones, passed down through the generations, stories told at family gatherings and celebrations. Ella Marie had never learned to read, but she remembered all the stories word for word, including her own stories. Ah, her own stories! She kept her own stories to herself, she never forgot the horrified silence when, as a child of five, she had voiced one of her stories at a family gathering. A silence had descended like a pall in the dining room that day.

        She shivered at the memory as she dusted the glass case covering the mummy, and Elioctyl, seizing upon the moment as a possible chance to get Ella Marie’s attention, whispered loudly.

        Ella! It’s me, you silly goose, it’s me, I mean YOU!

        Duster suspended in mid-air, Ella Marie quickly looked around to make sure nobody was watching her. All her life she’d been one step away from the funny-farm; she knew she had to be careful.

        Are you speaking to ME? she asked the mummy, incredulously. She’d spoken to trees before, and heard them reply, but never a mummy.

        Sheesh! exclaimed the mummy, At LAST! Over 3,000 years I’ve been whispering to you, and finally, you heard me.

        Ella Marie looked furtively over her shoulder, and then whispered back: Well, what for? What do you want?

        I want you to get me the fuck out of here, that’s what!

        Ella Marie clamped her work worn hands over her ears. You mind your language! she admonished the mummy. I don’t wonder I wasn’t listening to you all those years, coming out with language like that! Pfft….

        Metaphorically speaking, the mummy raised its eyebrows and sighed.
        :mummy:

        #791
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          You booger! Finnley swore out loud at the Phooto-copy machine. Booger that Mr Arak, forcing her to work with this antiquated equipment!

          ( Technically, said Al, Finnley is only the cleaner, so why she is doing the photo-copying I really don’t know. )

          Finnley was still wondering who this Al was who kept mysteriously, and a bit rudely, interjecting. He sounds a little pedantic, she thought, perhaps he is one of those compooter gooks who have hired an office in the building recently.

          Mind you, she had to give him credit, he had a damn good poont, perhaps she should have a meeting with Mr Arak to discuss the terms of her coontract.

          #787
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            A draft suddenly went through the open window, rattling a pile of previously disarrayed papers that Finnley had neatly put on the desk, catching the office cleaner by surprise.
            (Albert is wondering now what is the gender of Finnley, but probably that has to do with his new exploration and isn’t very important. Al is agreeing with himself on using handy ellipsis)

            Finnley, perplexed by the thoughts having went in accompanying the rogue wind, closed the opened window. The air was decidedly more breathable, now the emanations of nicobeck were dispersed. Not to mention the trails of that magpie’s droppings. Finnley would gladly do with a bootle to roll them into a big ball.

            What was with the third-person talking anyway? Finnley was wondering… And who is Al? Finnley knew of a Haley, but no Al for sure…
            Surely that Tattler’s madness was contagious…

            Putting the papers back onto the desk of Mrs Tattler (yes, I think she’s a she this one), Finnley notices something that catches Finnley’s eye (“stop messing with my thoughts!” thinks Finnley)…

            … They were thus one of the first sentient races created by the Powers with limited awareness to populate the lands of Dooane (note: replace all previous occurrences of “Earth” with Dooane, and M’si with Moortuane). Uglings were dwarfish, a bit stout and let’s say plain ugly for most of them. But they inherited a keen mind and greatest forging skills.
            Uglings revered the Power known to them as the Goddess of the Earths, Margiloonia, as their resemblance with raw clay and unpolished rocks were for them the evidence of such lineage. Combining their craft, they created an exquisite cup in dedication to the Goddess. Huriol, the First Ugling King in these times of Legend was given the cup to care for.
            The Power known as Margiloonia upon seeing this offering of acknowledgment to her was very pleased and imbued the cup with transmootation powers which could be used by its true owner for healing, and some said, even to resurrect the flesh…

            A loud knock at the door drew Finnley out of the contemplation.

            Isn’t that vacooming done yet? I have a book to write! The stridulent voice of Elizabeth Tattler was asking behind the still closed door.

            #737

            Finnley, you let me in right this mooment! commanded Elizabeth Tattler imperatively.

            I am sorry, Ms Tattler, I am under strict instructions from Mr Arak that I am under no circumstances to let you in until this office has been cleaned. I will lose my job if I let you in.

            Now there’s an idea! she thought, toying with the idea momentarily

            Why that pompous, arrogant, supercilious proot ….. Elizabeth paused midflow to admire her vocabulary.

            Finnley was quite enjoying the change of routine, and Ms Tattler’s office really was a treasure trove of interesting bits and pieces. The thick layer of dust, and were those magpie droppings? were a little off-putting mind-you. She plucked a book randomly from the shelf, and lifting the visor of her protective faceshield in order to see better, gently wiped the title clean. “I am Perfect Indeed” The author was some fellow named Erwin P Lemone who Finnley had never heard of. She picked another one, “Basic Flying Massage Techniques of the Ancient Kuzhebar, Book One for Beginners” by Jibberish E Shrale

            Finnley, Elizabeth’s voice had taken on a wheedling tone from the other side of the door. Be a sweetie-pooh will you and put this note in my clooh-box. Finnley watched intrigued as a piece of paper inched its way under the locked door.

            Sure Ms Tattler, where is the clooh-box?

            On my office desk, next to the daily quotes. Don’t mess anything up Finnley dear, you be careful, I have very precious things in my office.

            Finnley could not resist a peek but the scribbled words made no sense to her

            Amanita muscaria intoxication typically produces macroopsia – Beckipooh?
            13th gate and the 13th skull FEBRUPOOH 20TH 2008
            The Snoot – who is he really?
            supercilious proot! Arak Dr Bronkelhampton? ? ? ? WHAT IS PLAN B?????????

            Her eyes fell on the daily quote for the day, that Lemone chappie again!

            rainy wedding, merry marriage

            She snorted derisively, He must be madder than Almad that Lemone, how silly! No wonder poor Ms Tattler seemed a bit mindblown sometimes if she reads stuff like that

            #2005

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            Jib
            Participant

              And another cloud that is quite meaningful to me

              YOU understand THROUGH russian eyeS WHATEVER YOU ARE looking.
              THE snoot HAS already FOUND A nurse INTO sanso AND THE godS read THIS FINNTASTIC STORY THAT IS making LOTS OF cleaning INTO YOUR REALITY.
              GONE away FOR A FEW MOMENTS, jib NOW move AGAIN TO told THE STORY OF THE CRYSTAL skullS THAT HAD BEEN sent TO THIS REALM BY THE ASARIS.
              THEY HAD BEEN added AS THE fruitS OF KNOWLEDGE.

              #1898
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                tjmarshall57: hahahaha as if it’s not bad enough with the weeding, now poor girl has blotches all over her face!
                tjmarshall57: wedding not weeding
                tjmarshall57: do russian wear velis?
                tjmarshall57: veils
                tjmarshall57: hhhm, blessing by a shaman, plaiting together of the couples hair….(is Becky still blad?)
                tjmarshall57: The biggest concern at the wedding is to have enough liquor. A Russian Wedding is an event where everybody must be drunk. No one will be surprised if people drink themselves to unconscious on the wedding – and many do.
                tjmarshall57: well, that will appeal to Sean
                tjmarshall57: You are probably surprised to find out that a Russian wedding lasts for 2 days!! (Well, at least. Some weddings last as long as a week, and this is something to be proud of and remember for years: it means the couple had enough liquor to go on and on, and enough devoted friends to stay.)
                tjmarshall57: The Russian church ceremony is colorful and solemn but the complete traditional ceremony is very long, and as guests and the couple have to stand during the ceremony (there are no benches in Russian churches at all; people must stand during all church services), faints are not rare.
                tjmarshall57: right, so a fair amount of fainting and drunkeness then
                tjmarshall57: Then the witnesses continue running the wedding, reading jokes and poems, and sometimes asking the new couple questions to make fun of them.
                tjmarshall57: Franci will you be my witness, you’d be perfect
                tjmarshall57: “Za molodykh!” (“For the newlywed!”)
                tjmarshall57: Traditionally money is considered as the best gift, and is given in an envelope. Some time after the beginning of the reception when people start to become drunk the witnesses will ask everybody to give their gifts and one of the witnesses will collect envelopes from the rest of the guests with a tray.
                tjmarshall57: Then people have time to dance. First dance is opened by the new couple. After the music starts, there is no exact script anymore, and witnesses can relax a little. They still occasionally announce a toast but do not entertain the guests with jokes and poems; guests by this time are already having lots of fun and are able to entertain themselves.

                Movements become quite hectic; some people go out “to refresh”, and at some moment in this movement the bride gets… “stolen”! She disappears, and when the groom starts looking for her, he is faced with a request for a ransom. Usually it’s his buddies who “steal” the bride. A more or less short wrangle about the amount, and he can have his new wife back. But he must watch out – the bride sometimes may be stolen a few times!

                tjmarshall57: right, so we have drunkeness, fainting, jokes, poems and insults, and theft and abduction
                tjmarshall57: Then there are the bride’s friends – they steal the bride’s shoe. The groom must pay ransom for the shoe too – the guests enjoy watching wrangles.
                tjmarshall57: Often guests leave the wedding in such a condition that they cannot remember what happened. If this was the case with the majority of guests, then the wedding was a huge success
                tjmarshall57: AHA! This is the key! I will write about it after the wedding, when nobody can remeber anything about it
                tjmarshall57: Day two of the wedding:After the meal the bride must “clean” the floor in the room. The fun part is that guests are allowed to mess as much as they want while she is cleaning
                tjmarshall57:
                tjmarshall57: another part for you!
                tjmarshall57: guests on a Russian wedding enjoy it much more than the newlywed couple who are all the time made fools of.
                tjmarshall57: The most popular period for wedding ceremonies in Russia was between the Christmas and Shrovetide (a week before the spring fast). This period was called the wedding period.
                tjmarshall57: well, the timing is right
                tjmarshall57: One of the many superstitions still prevailing among the peasant population of Russia is that, on the occasion of a marriage, the happiness of the newly-married couple is not assured unless the parents of the contracting parties are soaked with water from head to foot. When a marriage takes place in summer this is easily accomplished by ducking the fathers and mothers in the nearest river, but in winter they are laid on the ground and rolled in the snow.
                tjmarshall57: who are the parents?
                tjmarshall57: Among the Koraks of Siberia a young man seeks for a maiden with considerable dowry in the form of rein-deer
                tjmarshall57: oh, well we can have psychoactive reindeer pies, anyway
                tjmarshall57: Kovalevsky has well shown that many of the marriage customs of this country are survivals from a primitive and prehistoric age when the woman ruled the household and had more than one husband.
                tjmarshall57: hhmmmm
                tjmarshall57: it all points to a distant age when the matriarchal system prevailed, and the brother was his sister’s guardian. In Little Russia the brother’s sword is decked with the red berries of the rowan tree, red being the emblem of maidenhood.
                tjmarshall57: red fruit sync!
                tjmarshall57: no wonder I threw the cherries away!
                tjmarshall57: ahahahahha!
                franci_free: oh hrllo
                franci_free: goodness
                franci_free: will need to read back
                tjmarshall57: hahahah oh there you are
                franci_free: well what a complicated theme
                tjmarshall57: haahah well
                franci_free: you will have to write about the wedding
                tjmarshall57: the key to the whole thing is that everyone was so drunk that nobody can remeber any of it aftrwards
                franci_free: hahahah
                franci_free: great!
                tjmarshall57: thats my angle, I think
                franci_free:
                tjmarshall57: and s few things fit perfectly
                tjmarshall57: the red fruit
                tjmarshall57: the time of year
                tjmarshall57: the drunkeness, Sean will love that
                franci_free: the splotches?
                tjmarshall57: well, nobody will remeber that
                tjmarshall57: afterwards

                #710

                Tina could not help but wish the wedding was over, what with Becky’s strange illnesses and then all the indecision and fuss over the wedding dress. In the end, after quite some deliberation with Felicity, the Bridal Goddess, they had decided upon a Russian themed wedding. Tina could not believe that now, after all that planning, Becky seemed to be in denial that the wedding was even taking place!

                Is it today! she had screeched in a panic, when Tina called her first thing that morning.

                I can’t get married today Tina! I consulted with the Snoot yesterday.

                Tina sighed. She seemed to do an awful lot of sighing when talking to Becky.

                Calm down Becky, what exactly did the Snoot say? said Tina gently

                Well most of it I didn’t understand, something about I have created the splotches to be more allowing of my cleaning aspects, and to not be cleaning so much and to wash my hands more … and then he recommended some special green clay to improve my skin, to help those awful splotches I have been getting on my face … oh and he said no more mushrooms or red fruit. Well I don’t want to get married with my face looking like this Tina! Becky wailed despairingly. And the Snoot said it could take some time … but if I could let go of my crottes I would feel my inner vibration more freely … it was all a bit confusing to be honest Tina … and what are crottes anyway?

                #2114

                In reply to: Snooteries

                The SnootThe Snoot
                Participant

                  Dear Balls

                  The Snoot is giving you this link to a balancing material of this earth .
                  Thou canst use it to cleanse thy inner being as it is well atuned to the vibration of the freeflow of your inner organs.
                  Thou canst also apply it on your face and appreciate the softness of thy being, though thou wilst never have as soft a skin as the liquid fur of the Snoot ;;)

                  The Grreeen Sn :yahoo_sick: :yahoo_sick: t

                  #2112

                  In reply to: Snooteries

                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    :yahoo_rofl:

                    AHEM ……..

                    Dear Cutie Snootie (I take it this is how you like to be addressed?)

                    Thank you.

                    Yes …… :face-plain:

                    I am going to take my cleaning aspect to one side and tell it what you said. Free the flow of my back and neck! I will command it imperatively. Well, I think it was highly intuitive of you to know that THE KEY was my back and neck. You are fantastic Snoot. I FLOOOOOOOOVE and appreciate you and in doing thus I FLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE and appreciate myself also, and thus the whole of the world and even Mabel.

                    I bought some red fruit today, I hope you are fully recovered.

                    sincerely and anonymously
                    A. N O N Y M O U S

                    #2111

                    In reply to: Snooteries

                    The SnootThe Snoot
                    Participant

                      The Last Member Brownie, I like your friend Elias, as he’s aware of his cleaning and sleeping aspects.
                      The Snoot does not need to hold tensions as he does not need to hold crottes and let go of them in great lovingness and appreciation of you all.
                      Next time you try to make tea with mushroom, don’t forget to wash your hands… lest your dogs have some in their bed too when you practice your cleaning aspect…

                      The Sleepy Sn :yahoo_yawn: :yahoo_sleepy: t

                      #2110

                      In reply to: Snooteries

                      The SnootThe Snoot
                      Participant

                        Dear Ann Honey Moon,

                        I also had almost diarrhoea yesterday… I ate too much red fruits.
                        It is also connected so to speak to our cleaning aspects, we merely again ex-spell what mesh-room we don’t need in the manner that we also want the free flow to let go of our tensions in our neck and back. :-?
                        We all have a cleaning aspect… sometime it may be cleaned too… well.

                        The Cutie Snootie (mwooosh)

                        #2107

                        In reply to: Snooteries

                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          Dear Snoot

                          My George also had diarrhoea last night. What does it all mean?

                          Also I am intrigued by your last reply; I did not know whatshername …. hmmm lets call her Tracy for fun, had a cleaning aspect.

                          Looking forward excitedly in anticipation of your response

                          bemused and perplexed,
                          Anonymous

                          #2105

                          In reply to: Snooteries

                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Dear Snoot,

                            Something else just happened on the same dog bed: Henry was sick on it. Is it because I haven’t been allowing my cleaning aspect enough?

                            And not only that, Snoot, it’s a Sick Sync: I woke up this morning with stomach pains and diarrhoea! Is it a release of the grey energy blockage?

                            Weak and Bafffled in West Barfland :yahoo_sick:

                            #2106

                            In reply to: Snooteries

                            The SnootThe Snoot
                            Participant

                              Deear :-??

                              the mouse is your allowance of the grey energy to manifest in the creature.
                              it chose to die here because it was soft and warm and it was for you to see it and allow yourself to allow your cleaning aspect.
                              it was a trick of Georges.

                              #702

                              There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

                              It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

                              A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

                              Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

                              Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

                              A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

                              Oh! Who’s there?

                              A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

                              Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

                              Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

                              Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

                              Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

                              Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

                              I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

                              What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

                              Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

                              Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

                              Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

                              Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

                              Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

                              Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

                              She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

                              Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

                              Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

                              Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

                              #1614

                              In reply to: Synchronicity

                              F LoveF Love
                              Participant

                                haha yes funny name! :yahoo_laughing:

                                Today i read in the paper of two cleaning women stuck in a lift in Illinois. They overheard a man talking on a cellphone and made a racket so that he heard them.

                                #626
                                F LoveF Love
                                Participant

                                  There was a tentative knock on the door and Finnley, the weekly cleaner popped her head around.

                                  Oh Ms Tattler …. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here at… she checked the wootch on her wrist, 5:57 am .. but I saw the light on …. A horrified expression passed fleetingly over her face as she took in condition of the office.

                                  Perhaps I shall come back later Ms Tattler, she said retreating, and making a note to have a word to the building supervisor, Mr Arak, as soon as possible. Mind you this wasn’t the first time she had spoken to Mr Arak about the issue of Ms Tattler living on the premises, to no avail. He was mad as Almad that man. Perhaps I will bloddy resign while I am at it too, she thought. Perhaps I will tell him to bugger his job, shove it where the sun doesn’t shine! Finnly cheered up greatly at the prospect.

                                  Elizabeth, exhausted, only dimly registered the interruption, looking up for an instant she waved vaguely in the direction of the door, and then returned to her frenzied writing, eager to capture the last remnants of her dream before it faded.

                                  #1604

                                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                                  F LoveF Love
                                  Participant

                                    While I was cleaning today there was a music doco playing on tv …. I was thinking about our story when I tuned in to the television where they were talking about David Bowie using fishbowl technique to help him with lyrics cut out technique. This seems similar to our word cloud. Not so much a synch, however I thought it was quite interesting and thought it might be fun to try when I get stuck in my writing.

                                    #1581

                                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                                    Jib
                                    Participant

                                      OK I got a link to that serendipityfilly… ODAd about mandrake root, also known as wild lemon or racoon berry…

                                      American Mandrake Root is a strong and powerful purgative that has been used historically and primarily to regulate bowel and liver function. It is believed to be a strong stimulant that efficiently cleanses and removes waste products from the body

                                      We need that to let go of all the associations and bs :))

                                    Viewing 20 results - 301 through 320 (of 323 total)