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  • #715

    Several days later, when the wedding celebrations had finished, nobody could remember anything about it, other than the jokes and poems. In true Russian custom, there had been ample alcohol…well, more than ample, there had been several hospital admissions from alcohol poisoning, drunken brawls and accidents.

    Becky swallowed another aspirin, recalling one of the jokes that Sam had told.

    As a Lord Wrick was driving down the freeway, his cell phone rang.

    Sam continued: Answering, he heard the mummy’s voice urgently warning him, “Wrick, I just heard on the news that there’s a car going the wrong way on the M4. Please be careful!”

    “It’s not just one car,” said Wrick, “It’s hundreds of them!”

    Sheesh, sighed Becky.

    As she poured herself another mug of coffee, a limerick popped into to her head.

    There was an Old Crone with a beard,
    Who said, ‘It is just as I feared!
    Two Owls and a Lynx,
    And a Rabbit in Pink,
    Have all built their nests in my beard!’

    Who had told that one, was it Sean? Becky smiled wanly as another one popped into her head.

    There was an Old Abbot whose habits,
    Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
    When he’d eaten eighteen,
    He turned perfectly green,
    Upon which he relinquished those habits.

    The toast popped up, and as Becky buttered it she remembered a joke of Al’s.

    Most dentists chairs go up and down, don’t they? Al asked the wedding guests.
    The one I was in went back and forwards.
    I thought, “This is unusual.”
    The dentist said to me, “Al, get out of the filing cabinet.”

    #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

      #622

      Somewhere during the 23 rd century

      “aaa AAAA AAAAA Tcheeeew !”

      “Hiiiiii?! Oh Fracking NOOOoooo!”

      The shriek had been heard in the whole facility.

      Phefia Beryl was the first on the spot where Vinya Grey had been playing so exuberantly with her vocal chords.

      — Vinnie? Are you alright?… What just happened?
      — Oh, Pheffy… I think I made an awful blunder…
      — What do you mean?
      — You know, my last experiment?
      — The g…
      — Yes!
      — What?!
      — They poofed away…
      — Away?… You mean, all of them? Oh bugger…

      :fleuron:

      A few minutes later, Vinya and Phefia were around a white table sucking on straws picked into white and red polystyrenoid balls.

      — Vinnie, you look terrible… That last geomagnetic storm had not done very good on your DNA I’m afraid.
      — And the worse is that each time I sneeze, I blow up wormholes… I thought it would go better very quickly, but last one was big and lasted long enough to let the whole experimental herd wander off in another time/space and/or dimension…
      — Yeah, that’s pretty bad… But wherever they went, they probably will die very soon… Imagine… With their stiff legs anytime they see something frightening, I guess a mere mapgie could easily have them for dinner…
      — Such a pity… I was close to doing something great with them… When we discovered these fossilized blue spiders, I knew it was the first step.
      — Bwah, this rehydrated frogrog is the grossest thing I’ve ever drunk… But yeah you’re right, the first results were very promising. The spiders venom could provoke very random and deep mutations.
      — And all we needed was a little more control on the direction of the mutations.
      — Anyway they’re just goats… You possibly can’t have breached a cosmic law with a handful of GOATS
      — Hope so Pheffy, hope so…

      :fleuron2:

      San Demangelo, 1848

      Elroy was laughing… Hey Joe, Twi! he shouted A letter from Uncle Ernie!

      — Uncle Ernie? How’s the old bat doin’? asked Twilight
      — He’s sending his greetings for the new year, and babbling about last dead people in the neighborhood. But there’s something funny. He’s saying that he’d just acquired some funny goats. Like popped in, out of nowhere. At first he’d thought of a joke, but apparently no one’s been claiming them. He’d thought them dead, they were a dozen laying stiff on the ground, but when they started to wake up, they went down again like broken dolls. Apparently the magpies on top of the tree had been scaring them. Ahaha… Where does he get such strange stories…
      — Well, magpies are scarey, Twilight said meaningfully, with a side glance at Joe
      — Whatever… At least he’d been giving us a good laugh. He’s saying he’s gonna breed the horny beasts, and start a Fainting Goat Fair (or FGF) in Marshall County. Perhaps we could get there next Thanksgiving…
      — Depends when the Freak Show’s coming to town, mused Twilight, I hope to see them soon…

      #550

      Alarmed by the sound of the explosion, Mrs Butterbutt rushed out of her office.

      What the hell are they doing again? If it’s these dirty sons of …

      She censored her thought as she was about to burst out in anger, she was so focused on that prout farting Mc Gaughran that as she opened the door of the main room, her face was that of a fury…. but as soon as she saw what had happened, she heard the laugh of Little Joe followed by all the drunkards and the sissy cow boys of that town. Her loud laugh soon joined with the others… she managed to calm down and talked to the juicy Aldous.

      — Oh you’re going to pay for all that mess, behave Mc Gaugran, you could have refrained from shitting on you!

      She couldn’t help but burst into laughter again.

      #498

      some writing by Twilight

      Jo fixed me up a swing. It hung from the old elm tree out the front. That’s my favourite place. I just sit there rocking and thinking, and thinking and rocking. Sometimes I would weave stories or sometimes I would dream about when I am real famous. I know I will miss Jo and Elroy, but then I cheer myself up thinking how, when I am rich, I will visit them and give them money and presents and how fine that will be.

      Elroy and Jo don’t know about my stories or how I love to write. I ain’t much good. I didn’t get much schooling but Elroy helped me some and then I would try and teach myself the rest. The only book we have is a big old bible. That is written in real fine words. The part I like the best is a song that Solomon wrote. I don’t know how the tune went but the words are real nice. It is real romantic too. I dream one day some man will use words like that to me. Not like those drunken slobs round these parts. Anyway, that’s how I know I am not much good, because I can’t write nothing like Solomon. But I try anyway.

      Yesterday I was sitting out on the swing rocking and thinking and young Dan from the ranch over the way turned up on his horse. He looked real hot and red and sweaty. Mostly though, he is real fine looking, and I confess I have a soft spot for him. So I leapt off the swing real quick and straightened myself up and bit my lips to make them all big and red. I wanted him to see I had developed some in the last little while.

      Where’s your brothers, Twi? he said to me.

      I felt he didn’t seem to be giving me the appreciation I hoped for, so I did a little flick of my head and gave him the look I had been practising. I had seen the other girls do this look to the men at the saloon, and it seemed to work a treat. I gestured at the same time, real slow and casual, and I said “Out the back, Dan.” in a honey voice.

      He started to ride off, like he was in a hurry. But then he stopped. My heart did a little flutter. He said to me, “You know Twi, the boys at the ranch were talking about you. And it wasn’t the sort of talk should be said about a lady”.

      When Dan said that, I felt he had kicked me in the guts. I wanted to gasp. But I am plenty used to putting up with things and not showing my true feelings, so I just looked at him real cold. Then I spat. I have been practising my spitting and I can do it real good now. Nearly as good as Jo.

      “I am just telling you Twi he said. I thought he would say more, but he seemed to reflect for a moment, then shook his head and off he went in a hurry to find the boys.

      Elroy and Jo looked real bothered when I saw them later. I knew when to hold my tongue so I did not give them no smart talk, and I cooked up a real fine bean dish for their supper. It was real quiet over the table that night. Truth was, I still felt mighty bad over what Dan had said.

      I confess I felt some cares and sadness on me that evening when I went to bed, and found I could not sleep. I got out my diary and thought I would do some writing.
      I tried to write what my name, Twilight, means to me. My real name is Tina Willemine Ivy El Disperso. I always been called Twi. Then Hank at the saloon, he says one night, “I am calling you Twilight and that sort of caught on. It made me feel special, having my own stage name.

      I started writing. Lavender blue sky bleeding into the dark. I thought that sounded quite a good start to my writing, so feeling a bit encouraged I went on some more: Twilight is a magic time. It is the time I see things that aint there, but maybe they could be. My eyes play tricks on me in the half light and I feel like I could be anyone. I feel like I could be someone who I isn’t. Twilight is the time of promises. The promise and mystery of the night to come. It is inbetween time when you know the ordinary stuff could be magic.

      I stopped. I weren’t never going to be able to write like Solomon. I knew that and I felt real bad. At least I could dance though, and that was going to make me famous. But that thought could not cheer me up this night and I confess I cried myself to sleep like a baby.

      #475

      It had been real hard since Momma and Poppa weren’t around no more. Twilight was four when they got shot dead, and she could hardly remember their faces now. Sometimes she had memories come to mind, this real pretty woman, brushing her hair at night. One hundred strokes, she would say, make your hair real pretty. It made her feel sad because she wished it were true.

      Her brother Jo, he was only ten when they got killed. He was the one found them. They’d been shot. Jo, he took it real hard. Sometimes he’d get this far away and sad look and Twilight knew he was remembering. She wanted to hug him, but he’d be all shut off.

      Anyways it was real hard to keep the ranch going after that. Her brother Elroy, he was the oldest. He was fifteen when Momma and Poppa died. So he took on being the man of the house. Sometimes he would try and boss Jo and her round, and Twilight would give him a real hard time. She was just jesting though, she knew he was just doing his best to keep the El Disperso Ranch running and she was real proud of him.

      It was real hard though. Winter had been hard. They all were fearing they might have to sell the blue bull just to keep the wolves from the door next winter. Elroy, he was right pig headed though about that bull. Jo would say to Elroy “we have to sell that bull, Elroy and Elroy would get mad and say “no ways we selling that bull Jo”. One day they nearly came to blows over that bull.

      It was the only time Twilight seen Elroy get real mad with Jo. They were real close those two. They were all close really. They had to keep together when Momma and Poppa died. Uncle Bart turned up at the news of their folks dying, wanted to take the ranch, but Elroy , well he got Poppa’s rifle and chased Uncle Bart away. Elroy said he would have shot Uncle Bart had he tried any harder to take the ranch. Twilight would look in his eyes when he told the story and she knew he weren’t jesting. A few others tried to interfere also. Somehow they all stayed together and kept the ranch.

      Elroy won that blue bull. It was real rare and very fine and people would pay plenty for a bull like that bull. Elroy said he won it anyhow. He turned up with it one day, and he was real quiet. Twilight saw him whispering to Jo, and Jo looked real concerned. She thought it best not to ask too many questions and so she kept what she seen to herself. But she couldn’t help but be wondering.

      Twilight wanted to help take the load off her brothers so she got herself a job dancing in the saloon in town. She liked to call it performing though. Sounded more high class. She watched the other dancers till she taught herself to do it. She would hide in the saloon and watch them. That was one good thing about not having a Momma and a Poppa. She could pretty well do what she wanted. She liked dancing and she knew she were real good at it and pretty soon she was the dancer everyone wanted to see. She’d rather have a Momma and Poppa though, truth be told.

      One of the other girls, Anna, she was real pretty too, got jealous and tried to get Twilight kicked out, said she was too young to be dancing . Anyhow Anna had a soft spot for Jo and so he soon sweet talked her round. Jo and Elroy were real good looking boys, and plenty of girls liked them so Twilight was pretty lucky to have them look out for her. ( Elroy said she should wear a blond wig for her dancing, like a disguise, and Twilight thought this was real funny. But she wore it anyway.) Anna got pregnant, and she said Jo was the daddy, but everyone in town knew she slept with plenty of fellows, and Jo weren’t having a bar of it. Anna got real fat with the baby and had to stop dancing and now she lived with some old fellow who was always drunk and would eye up Twilight when she was dancing. Sometimes Twilight would tease Jo about the baby and call him “daddio” and he would get real mad with her. But could be his, that’s the truth. Poor little baby but she were glad Jo weren’t stuck with that Anna.

      Twilight knew the men looked at her. She knew what they were thinking and she didn’t mind. She weren’t no fool though. She had plans. She was going to be somebody, not laid up with some damn sprog like that Anna. Some of the money she earned she’d give to Elroy, some of it she put in a tin can she kept hidden.

      Last night some fellow from out of town came in. A sheriff. She heard the girls whispering and giggling about him. Sheriff Ted Marshall was his name. He was real fine looking and all the girls were in a flutter hoping he would look at them. Twilight wondered what he was doing in town. She hoped it were nothing to do with that bull of Elroys.

      #1394
      AvatarJib
      Participant

        Does the world alzheimer work? or the word puppies or the word house and holidays… mmm buy a new car? or save money?
        or monkey island? the big mama is drunk and she gives you soup…

        #288

        Tomkin had a keen eye, and despite the dazzling light reflected on the calm glittering surface of the sea, he could see a little dark shape detaching itself from the three bigger forms, and that little dark shape was quickly identifiable as a bird.
        Apparently the bird was not from these lands, it was black with white strips, or perhaps the contrary, and was flying like a grake drunk of having gorged on overripe Scotch bonnets.
        Obviously the bird was exhausted, and crashed on the shore where it was nearly knocked out by the grogonuts which fell with big *thuds* from the grogonut tree on which it had just finished its erratic course.

        Seeing the whole scene from the top of the fatly mossy cliff, Tomkin decided his curiosity was a much more pressing matter than taking care of the herd of grakes, so he ran to the little rocky path which led to the beach below.

        Apparently the bird was still alive, and more surprising even, that was a talking bird. It could speak strange words.
        And even stranger, though Tomkin knew none of these words, he could understand all of what the bird wanted to communicate to him.

        What an odd thing, he wondered… The bird was requesting some food apparently.
        Tomkin fumbled in his pocket for some bread crumbs, when the gift of the Captain fell on the sand.
        Could it be?

        Tomkin’s heart was racing. Could it be that there was magic after all in this strange simple gift? The Captain had said it meant all was connected. That could explain why he could understand that foreign bird… And perhaps it worked on other talking creatures and people too…
        A whole realm of potentials seemed to open in front of young dreamy Tomkin, who was quickly brought down to more earthly matter when Rudy the myna pricked his hand with its beck for the bread crumbs, projecting to him “Give it to me! Give it to me!”.

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