Daily Random Quote

  • Head Parcel, the postie, met What, What Ever said, “Head, I’m What.” “You’re What?” said Head. “That’s right!” What said, “I’m What Ever, Head Parcel, or What.” :penthingy: ... · ID #922 (continued)
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Viewing 20 results - 961 through 980 (of 1,313 total)
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  • #2073

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      “Green years help often book!”
      Elizabeth hand surprise.
      Head Sanso: “Let dragons…..”
      Finnley: “Dory fishes quickly!”
      nothing answer…..
      notice appeared remembered spiders,
      speaking raucous Dolores:
      “Stranger bird gift,
      looks deep matter!”
      “Write”, supposed young Phenol, whether himself less knows inside.
      “Monica bloody apparently, probable cow”.

      :yahoo_cow:

      #2407

      Peanelope smiled serenely as she gazed at the heads of her loved ones.

      “Oh Pixel,” she said, “Is that dust on your eyelid?”

      Chuckling to herself she ran her dusting cloth over his face, relishing the control she now had over her dear ones. One of her greatest pleasures was rearranging them on the mantelpiece. Sometimes, if her mood was poor, or she had one of her many men friends visiting, she would make them face the wall. At dinner time she would place them around the table, each head propped up on a large pile of Pee’s precious encyclopeadias.

      “More blubbit stew, Pee?” she asked.

      #2382

      A tinkling bell notified Josephine that someone had found the object. The prophecy was right, things were beginning to get into place, and soon, it will be revealed. Unfortunately, she was busy making a very delicate potion for one of her patients and the sound of the bell distracted her and she took a very dangerous spider venom instead of the toad juice she had intended.
      She didn’t realize her mistake, and maybe it was part of the prophecy too. Soon, it will be revealed.

      #2647

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      When Yikes had first asked Arona, when he was like 6 or 7 years old if he had a father, Arona had brushed the question aside with a roll of an eye, and an annoyed flicker of the other.

      “Of course you have, little pooh…”

      It was glaringly obvious that the little Ugling wasn’t bearing any likeness with her handsome model Vincentius, so she didn’t mock the little guy’s intelligence by asking why he was even inquiring of such a thing.
      And for a few years, telling him the story of how he was given to her by the dwarf Palani was enough to calm the torrent of his questions.

      Later though, as he was gaining strength and other skills taught to him by Vincentius, who was ever patient and dedicated to the well-being of Arona and the child, his questions became an obsession, and he took upon himself to discover the truth he could feel was wrapped in fantasy and nonsense —or at least, not told completely.

      Perhaps it was an indiscretion of a glukenitch found in the many caves there were nearby their home, nobody knew for certain. (Glukenitches sharing one mind, they knew many of the secrets of the caves they sometimes deigned to share with strangers…) anyway, nobody knew for certain, but he found out about the mysterious Sanso, and how he became ‘acquainted’ with Arona (whom Yikes had never called but by her first name).

      Yikes was now in his teen years, and wanted more than ever to meet Sanso, although he never quite revealed that secret plan least it would upset the loving and caring Arona. He had to find someone to help him in his research, but where they lived, encounters were scarce.

      One day, a young woman he’d never met before went to see Arona. They were friends apparently, and he overheard Arona call her Salome, while they were discussing about lots of people, whose names he mostly didn’t know. He was feeling uncomfortable around nice ladies, and almost didn’t show up for dinner. However, an embarrassed silence and a sideway glance as a certain “he” was being inquired about by Arona raised his ears, and he took upon himself to try to learn more from the lady.
      So when she left, he followed her to the entrance of one of the nearby caves, and showed up —apparently without surprising the lady called Salome. She was well aware of his presence, and of his desire to find Sanso.
      “The man defies logic,” she then warned Yikes “and you need a riddle outside of logic to catch him and his attention.”
      That was almost all of what she said before disappearing into the damp cave’s tunnel. That and… “no need to beat a dead cow.”

      Yikes had pondered that for days, without success.
      Until the illumination came: all he had to do was become the hunter, and bait his prey.
      For that, he would kill the fatted calf, to welcome the return of the prodigal father.

      And put his bait near the tunnels near the realms from whence he roamed aimlessly.

      #2346
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “The fact of the matter, Finnley,” Liz whispered confidentially to her dear freind, “ is that I feel scared to say something discontinous now, which results in me saying nothing (or rather, not all that much).”

        “Leave it with me, Ann dear” replied the resourceful Finnley. “I’ll have a word with God about nonsense.”

        “Liz” corrected Liz.

        “Oh dear. I think you’ve been infected with the continuity virus.” Finnley looked worried.

        #2790
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Some shaven sheep on the floor where mother goose got pens… that’s what I call giant game! Meddling it’s intricate design, and its daft words pointed to the distinct lack of any mention of God.

          We’re talking threads, spinning a myth, warming and weaving, all meaningless beleifs with which to travel, peanuts that can’t be contained inside ones own weaving, in and out of the warped story, and the weft Text.

          Viewers may be considerd to be a patchwork piece. These indiviual multitudes are loom weights to create a tapestry in the style, so to speak, of the background qualities of Finnley.

          In this focus you choose this situation, that of God. You shall focus an attention to detail and perfection, balance, movement, with tremendous detail.

          “Tell me about it” remarked God drily, offering challenging information. “The Sumari does not concern itself with Finnley” who stuck her tongue out at God, sighed in resignation and reached for the peanuts. “No point in fighting your warp.”

          #2788
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            (#1682)

            Elizabeth frowned as she hung Finnley.

            “crazy!” he’d said. “killing spiders and magpies and lord knows what else”

            “Woohoo”

            Really, Elizabeth could be exasperating at times

            Finnley had been silent hung in frustration floated across of Elizabeth’s closed eyes as she lay on the bed.

            She was aware of the breeze and the giraffes heat was intense, heavy.

            spiders webs, and the sound of gurgling….

            and then silence and the tinkling of windchimes….

            Big brown eyes atop gaze at Elizabeth as her eyes flutter open and then close again.

            Elizabeth can see the head and shoulders and the serious face, she can see the lips up and down and round and round …..

            Elizabeth drifted off to sleep.

            #2065

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Eyes previous threads ~

              Nobody!

              Finnley free rather real string writing;
              Strings tell attempt;
              Lack experience.

              Dragons, whatever…

              Stop!

              Wondered…
              Attention certainly taking,
              Mused write somewhat ~
              Seem face thinking…
              Taken, wrote silly, shouted dancing!
              Enjoyed!
              Exclaimed comments ~
              Voice life thread!

              #2344
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Allow me to explain about loom weights,” said the man in the elaborate blue turban. “You create a type of pattern, so to speak, a tapestry. The picture of the tapestry is created in the style, so to speak, of the qualities of the family that you align with. The details and the background threads of the tapestry are the expressions of qualities of the family that you are belonging to.”

                “I knew this tapestry and weaving stuff would fit in somewhere” interrupted LizAnn.

                “Shh!” said Finnley.

                “In this” the man in the blue turban continued, “You may notice certain qualities and expressions throughout your focus that appear to underlie all of your directions that you choose within your particular focus. This is the influence of the family that you are belonging to – in this situation, that of Sumafi.” He looked pointedly at Godfrey. “You shall notice throughout your focus what may be expressed as an attention to detail in the qualities of the Sumafi family, and at times this may be associated within your societal beliefs and definitions as a type of perfectionism.

                “This is counterbalanced by the Sumari” he said with a glance at LizAnn, “Who do not concern their movement with tremendous attention to detail.”

                “Tell me about it” remarked Godfrey drily.

                The man in the blue turban grinned and continued, “The expression and qualities of the Sumari are merely to be creating new directions and offering challenging information which shall spark new explorations of your reality. But the attention of the Sumari does not concern itself with outcomes or endings or detail.”

                “Yes, we had noticed” interjected Finnley, who stuck her tongue out at LizAnn. LizAnn made a rude gesture to Finnley and said “See, I told you I couldn’t help it.”

                Godfrey sighed in resignation and reached for the peanuts. “I suppose the point of all that is that there’s no point in fighting your warp. Or is it weft?”

                #2343
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  “Serenely on her tiny loom she weaves her story with careful art.
                  And who am I, with meddling pen to send it’s loveliness apart?

                  For I, who am a weaver, too, look on that intricate design,
                  And know its daft embroideries are just as beautiful as mine….”

                  LizAnn read the poem out loud, subsituting a few words of her own, and pointed out to Godfrey the distinct lack of any mention of spiders.

                  “We don’t have to include any actual spiders, Godfrey,” she said firmly. “Forget the spiders! We’re talking here about weaving a story from all the loose threads, not spinning a web with which to ensnare anyone. The myths” continued LizAnn, warming to the subject, “Concerning spiders and weaving are being rewoven anew. The Text Tiles are myriad, and all equally meaningless. The purpose of Text Tiles is no longer a sticky web of beleifs with which to ensnare the unsuspecting traveller, but a patchwork of …of….”

                  “Lost your thread, LizAnn?” inquired Gordon, smugly.

                  “You rude old coot” she replied, “Have some more peanuts, and allow me to finish.”

                  “Finish? Well, that will be a first.”

                  “What I was trying to say is that the weaving of the story can’t be contained inside the confines of the linearly constructed Reality Play. One only needs to focus on ones own weaving, in and out of the warped story, and the weft wide world outside, so to speak. The same principle applies to the other weavers and the Text Tile viewers. Each comment may be considerd to be a single Text Tile, or patchwork piece. These indiviual Text Tiles may be arranged in multitudes of ways according to the manner in which they are woven into an individuals own story weaving experience.”

                  “That’s as may be, LizAnn, but what about loom weights? To anchor the warp? Or is it the weft…”

                  #2780
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Margaret reckoned she’d made a rather amusing essence, whose vibrational tone translated as the name Pigoosus. A dirty park littered with pigeons droppings had been so full that she had barely noticed the “ubiquitously absent” Finnley…

                    The inspiration to take a break from that strange coollage of magpies was full of surprises, indeed still in fairy land, apparently with some invisible being that she was considering working with. Hesitant at publishing her book, Finnley swore out loud at that Mr Arak, forcing her to work with Al.

                    Finnley was still wondering who this Al was. Perhaps he had a damn good coontract.

                    #2779
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      The sky was most unusual. Something definitely weird was happpening.

                      Yann was looking at a TV show in which a clown was trying to juggle with his clothes.

                      Yann switched off the tv set and chose to go the cat in her basket.

                      “There you are!”

                      “Absolutely Sir”.

                      “Good very Good.”

                      Taking deep puffs of his pipe, he looked like a botle green velvet sofa, and that, combined with the crazy Baron of the nearby village, was the surest way of being left alone.

                      “The curious police want to know the details?” asked the Baron

                      “Not really … well now you make me think of it .. I reckon a bit.”

                      ahahahahaha!” the manic laughter was infectious. Strange bugs were dancing. little dark skinned performers, tickling like an army of ants.

                      Rather than laughing, he’d taken a moment to consider the options. Obviously he couldn’t refuse help as his business had recently been pregnant, giving birth to conjoined twins.

                      So to speak.

                      #2778
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        The myopic Finnley DIDN’T wear fishnet stockings.

                        Unable to resist the library, and in a tutu, he was just hoping that he did the right thing in sending the staff before dinner to the stables.

                        Finnley, in the library, before dinner, waited.

                        “Damn it!” Finnley muttered. “I can’t do it alone”.

                        A master in karate, a surge of adrenaline overflowed his mind and all he remembered was he was bald.

                        NOTE : Well. By the time I took out all the pornographic stuff there wasn’t much left to work with. :yahoo_nerd:

                        #2777
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          Sanso, flushed, was certainly an eye opener.

                          The little girl starting to understand, replied with a very good question.

                          “How do you know the center of everything?”

                          Sanso was grinning. “I love goldfish!”

                          “What do you mean?” Zhaana wasn’t sure.

                          “They just appear so i notice them”, said Sanso. “Then you have some more peanuts”.

                          #2776
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            “Jig up in a tree!” Armelle said quickly, scratching her wings on top of the grinning Snoot.

                            “The Snoot has been expecting those nasty buggers”, Gloria said sadly as a magpie started to wave.

                            STAY CLEAR!” the magpie giggled. She beamed at Gloria. The confusion was now clear. She could feel it. She could consume it and become one with Armelle and the Snoot and Yuki and Rafaela , Anita, the spiders, Akayli, the werelynx, the mummified parents, Claude.

                            “The good thing is”, the Snoot whispered to Armelle, “you may have noticed i am twice my usual size and I may be more than happy to lend Al Becky’s children, ingested a few days before the conception”.

                            #2774
                            F LoveF Love
                            Participant

                              There was a light on in the office. Perhaps the sun doesn’t shine?

                              Finnley cheered up Elizabeth and offered congratulations to the others not chosen to succeed.

                              “Listen to your heart and remember that I sprinkle you with bottled water.”

                              She had no idea what happened, but she suspected a couple of guests locked in the closet, and on the run, had been tiring. As Dr Lemane, the sniggley one said, “It’s a bit odd, don’t you think?”

                              #2637

                              In reply to: Strings of Nines

                              After five years of training of the dragon twins, Irtak was to do for the first time an act that would finally make him not just a dragon rider, but a dragon breeder in his own right. He had to part ways with them.

                              It was harder than he’d expected. He knew that if he wanted to bring more dragons into the great stream of the Duane’s life, he couldn’t only focus on the two buoyant twins. It’d taken them that long to manage channeling the intense energy of the two, and balancing their thirst of discovery with patience and adequacy of action.
                              Parting now was almost heart-breaking for him, even though the dragons had been reassuring they were only longing for new adventures with new companionship.

                              In fact, they were so longing that they would have almost gone with any stranger, or perhaps even just on their own —reluctant as they were to admit they also greatly enjoyed human’s company. However, Irtak wanted to make sure they would be taken care of by not just anybody; as powerful as dragons were, the two were almost innocent and very young for that race, and they would greatly benefit from some wise tutelage.

                              Now that Malvina had left the cave, he didn’t know who to turn to for advice, and was feeling a bit forlorn, though his glubolin was still working fine. He’d been thinking about it for quite some time, and realized that some travel would really do him good, so he finally began packing.
                              The Southern Shores of Lan’ork would make a great destination to find a proper owner for the twins, and an interesting starting point for new adventures.

                              #2771
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                #726

                                People who unlock this chamber will also wonder: do we know Becky?
                                She decided to explain about analytical sounds. Obliviousness had seen her smile in other interesting roles of her focus Lola Finn. In the need to feel her warm body, a small shower of thought had cleared now, and everything had a gentle sigh.

                                #2766
                                F LoveF Love
                                Participant

                                  #475

                                  “And so, my deep melodic voice did soothe 123 white ferrets streaking through the airport lounge.” she said.

                                  Becky was inspired by the courageous example of Finn.

                                  #102
                                  ÉricÉric
                                  Keymaster

                                    This is a new game: choose from the current random comment, and its following comments, and only deleting some words, sentences, letters, bits here and there… let a different story be written. You have to incorporate at least a few words from each comment you’re passing through. Only one daily entry per writer (reusing another writer’s current random thread is allowed though taking turns is encouraged), so that it keeps weaving a new story. Of course, if you don’t like the rules, you can play in other threads instead. Don’t forget this is the Del’Eight thread, where DEL is key.

                                    #1664 Elizabeth was beginning to realize that there WAS no road.
                                    Whenever she found herself following another, she didn’t want it.
                                    Perhaps it was rough and coarse, plain and functional. Some were together somehow.

                                    It really was the most fabulously absorbing babbling,…

                                    “How long now?”

                                    Yann couldn’t help but laugh. She would choose… some of them are so slippery…

                                    SPLASH! warmly as Flove was.

                                  Viewing 20 results - 961 through 980 (of 1,313 total)

                                  Daily Random Quote

                                  • Head Parcel, the postie, met What, What Ever said, “Head, I’m What.” “You’re What?” said Head. “That’s right!” What said, “I’m What Ever, Head Parcel, or What.” :penthingy: ... · ID #922 (continued)
                                    (next in 16h 57min…)

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