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 04h 52min…)

Latest Activity

Search Results for 'nor'

Forums Search Search Results for 'nor'

Viewing 20 results - 641 through 660 (of 805 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #1227
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Elizabeth had wanted to voice her concerns about the Vowel Shift and its potential impact on language and understanding to her publisher Godfrey Pig Littleton on numerous occasions, but until his, to her way of thinking, outrageous tampering with her script, it had not been in the forefront of her mind. She had simply ignored the Vowel Shift in the Ooh Dimension, and made up her own Vowel Shifts instead, in a variety of minor ways. Ironically and somewhat perversely (Elizabeth was well aware of the consonant shift, which she translated as a continental drift symbol) Pig Littleton was quick to notice and object.

      “Do you deliberately write ‘collaberative’ instead of ‘collaborative’?” he asked.

      “There are No Accidents, Godfrey” retorted Elizabeth, rather cleverly shutting the old coot up, at least for awhile. Thank Goodness he was otherwise engaged with the latest production of TWIST, and not breathing down her back about The Book.

      #1224
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Of course, there were probable versions of Snettie and Snooter that remained in Spreal, as well as probable versions that left Spreal much earlier. There was a probable reality in which Snooter and Snettie, and their freinds Spagwan and Illiofilly (sometimes spelled Iliophile) journeyed north a decade previously, as indeed there are probable realities in which Snooter and Snettie journeyed north, but Spagwan and Iliophile stayed behind.

        “This could go on ad infinitum Godfrey, I better rein myself in” remarked Elizabeth, more to herself than to her friend Pig Littleton, who appeared to be engrossed in scrutinizing peanuts one at a time before popping then into his mouth and chewing them thoughtfully.

        “Where were you planning to go with it, anyway?” asked Godfrey, inspecting another peanut.

        “Well, I didn’t have a plan actually. I just started writing, really. And kept on writing until I reined myself in, and then….”

        “And then what happened?” asked Godfrey, a trifle mischievously.

        “And then the writing stopped.” Elizabeth laughed.

        “How very singular, Liz dear” Replied Godfrey wryly. “You’re not making very good progress on Volume Two, I must say.”

        “Anyway, Godfrey, I’ve got a bone to pick with you!” Elizabeth pushed her keyboard away and turned to face her publisher. “You’ve been tampering with my vowels again! It’s jolly well not cricket you know, old bean.”

        Godfrey Pig Littleton focused on Elizabeth’s keyboard, a single peanut held alot as he concentrated, and the keys started to type on their own. Elizabeth swung round and read:

        “…Oonyway Goodfrey, Oo’ve goot a boon to pook wooth yoo! Yoo’ve boon toompering wooth moo vooells agoon! Oot’s jooly wool noot crookit yoo knoo, oold boon….”

        GODFREY!!” shouted Elizabeth. “Stop it! Nobody’s going to understand that Nonsense!”

        #1222

        “Oh no! Last night’s frost has killed all the blibilong plants!” exclaimed Snettie, shivering in the unnatural cold. “Honestly, this global freezing is spoiling everything. If blibilong plants can’t stand this cold, then nothing will grow here anymore, and I am sick to death of eating leopard seal with no greens.”

        “Ugh, don’t remind me. What I wouldn’t give for a nice fresh sun warmed bobbit fruit. All the smikkerts have migrated north as well, I haven’t seen one for months” replied Snooter. “I don’t know if I can stick around here for much longer myself.”

        “But this is our home, Snooter!” Snettie started to cry, her tears freezing on her cheeks. We’re Sprealians, we’ve always lived here. Where will we go?”

        Snooter hugged Snettie. “I suppose we’ll have to go north, like the rest of them.”

        Snooter and Snettie gazed around at the deserted city. Alabash had been built around the shores of Lake Flom, in the mild and temperate regions of central Spreal (later, much later, Spreal was referred to as Gondwana, but Snooter and Snettie didn’t know that. And they certainly didn’t know that the remains of their civilization was to disappear under masses of ice for so long that all memory of them was long forgotten, and that anyone mad enough to suggest that they once existed would be considered a bit of a nutter).

        “Snettie, I think the time has come” Snooter said solemnly. “I think we have to go north. There’s only old Spagwan left here now besides us, and his daughter Illiofilly. We’ll never survive here with just four of us, even if it didn’t get any colder, and it is getting colder, every day. Why, the first four floors of all our buildings are iced up now for heaven’s sake. What happens when the ice reaches the top floors? Then what?”

        “We’ll all be dead by then, Snooter” Snettie sighed “By rights we should probably be dead now. When we run out of furniture to burn to keep warm, then what? All the trees are dead and buried in ice.”

        “We’ll come back though, when it warms up again. This can’t last forever, and when it’s over, we’ll come back.” Snooter said optimistically.

        “How long do you think it’ll be?” Snettie asked her husband.

        “Oh, not long, a few years at most. Don’t worry, you’ll be back home before you know it, but for now, let’s go and find some warmth and some decent food, eh?”

        “Ok, but first I want to leave something, some message or clue or something, in case anyone comes back here before we do, so they know we’re coming back”

        #1214
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “This is a long process, Godfrey , a very long process” Elizabeth said with a wry chuckle. She had left her characters to their own devices for so long she didn’t know where to jump in again with her directing.

          “The process is the point, dear” Pig Littleton replied dryly. “Pass the peanuts, would you?”

          “There are hundreds of probable possibilities, in fact there are so many of them that I hardly seem able to find a place to start.”

          “Start anywhere Liz, and then stop when you’re finished.” Godfrey said with his mouth full of peanuts. “Ideas are like peanuts, you can savour them one at a time…”

          “Or shove a whole handful in your mouth at once, eh Piggy” retorted Elizabeth, frowning as Godfrey tried to munch, swallow and speak all at the same time. “If I shove too many in my mouth at once, I can’t remember each individual peanut, it all becomes a glob of sticky….”

          “Peanut butter spread? And what’s wrong with that?” Pig Littleton smiled.

          “Well for one thing Godfrey, all those bits of peanuts stuck in your teeth is rather off putting you know.”

          “Why?” asked Godfrey.

          “Why?” Elizabeth repeated, perplexed.

          “Yes, why? Why do you perceive the physical evidence of my enjoyment of peanuts captured for a moment between my teeth as off putting?”

          “When you put it like that, dear Piggy, I confess I don’t have an answer” Elizabeth replied with a snort. “As a matter of fact, I have no idea where this conversation is leading at all!”

          “Aha, and there you have it!”

          “Have what, Godfrey? What on earth do you mean?”

          “Well, why should it be leading anywhere in particular? The process is the point, Liz, not the destination!”

          “Hang on a minute, are you trying to tell me that this conversation about peanuts is a meaningful process with a point?”

          Godfrey Pig Litteton laughed, spraying bits of peanut everywhere and nearly choking. “Who said anything about meaningful?”

          “Well what’s the point of it if it isn’t meaningful?”

          “If it’s meaning you want, you can read all sorts of things into it. On the other hand, if it’s fun you want, why worry about meaning?”

          Elizabeth shook her head, perplexed. “Is it fun that I want?”

          “Don’t you know?!” asked Godfrey, in mock surprise.

          “Well of course I want fun! Everyone does, surely!”

          “Then why” Godfrey said with exaggerated patience “worry about meaning?”

          “I’m not worried about meaning, Piggy, you’re twisting my words, you tricky rascal!”

          “My dear Elizabeth, I quote you: ‘What’s the point of it if it isn’t meaningful’”

          “Pfft” she replied. “I might delete that comment. Trouble is, if I do, the rest of it won’t make sense.”

          “Worried about making sense now, are we, dear?” said Godfrey with a sly grin.

          “Godfrey, you’re making me sound so old fashioned, worrying about sense and meaning! Pass the peanuts.”

          #1213
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Georges and Salome’s journal

            From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 4)

            Legends of the past can tell you a lot more on the present than what sometimes is actually revealed by present events. I discovered the truth of this statement when we arrived with Cil at the capital of Tùrmk. As Cil was discussing with officials of the Turmaki Gatherings, I was offered to go to their House of Remembrance. It was, I gathered, a sort of physical repository of the knowledge of the Turmaki that would allow me to bridge the gap of my abysmal ignorance of their history.

            I was only barely starting to understand the odds of the physical configurations of space in this dimension, and I was nonetheless more than eager to add history to my previous geography lessons.
            Turmaki are living in a sort of interesting land forming a sort of circle at the centre of which lies the most beautiful sea I have ever seen, with a very subtle and vivid shade of deep indigo blue. Most of Turmakis’ activity was directed inward of the circle, and the outer sea wasn’t a matter of interest to them. Later at the House of Remembrance, I learned that there had been an agreement in the past with the other sentient races to not mingle, so even if there was not physical barrier, all they focused their attention upon was their land, and theirs only.
            Their Capital City, Tùrmk, may probably be seen as a very rudimentary city by all Earth-biased accounts. However, at that time, I had not really seen much of the Earth to be blasée anyway, so I was quite receptive to the beauty of its simplicity. It was located at the foremost point of an inner peninsula known as the Nirgual’s Head, facing twelve beautiful islands on which sacred temples had been erected.

            My fascination for the beauty of these islands led me to discover more about their significance. In the House of Remembrance, a similar structure of twelve doors led me to learn that the twelve families held significance even here and throughout Alienor as well. Representatives of the families were chosen among the Guardians, as I remembered Georges had discovered and interestingly some of them had had quite an influence upon the history of the various people of Alienor. I couldn’t really trace it back to tangible proofs, but as I said, some legends are quite telling — thus corroborating Cil’s earlier statements.

            I have not much time left to start telling them now, but I will probably tell more about the Legends of the Six ‘Fudjàhs’ —or Power Objects.

            (Part 3)

            #1198
            Jib
            Participant

              Yann woke up puzzled by his dreams. He’d been walking in the street of a big odd city… an oddicity? He giggled in himself. Yurick was still sleeping and he didn’t want to wake him up.

              In that oddiCity, there were many people but as he could feel in his dream they were not necessarily interacting with each others directly, and strangely it seemed that the different individuals were not necessarily at the same time though he could clearly see them in the same place.

              He was wondering as some people were waving at him… did he know them? As far as he could tell, they weren’t triggering any memory of individuals he had met in his waking life. Some of them seemed somewhat familiar but he couldn’t put a name on their faces. When he was feeling like it he would wave back at them but most of the time he would simply ignore them. No consequences.

              At some point In his dream, he’d ended up in a big park, very calm and soothing. He could see some people smiling and laughing, and the sound of their laughs was not intrusive, it was merely part of the environment like the birds chirping.

              He remembered having seen 3 fountains… when he found the second one, he thought he took a wrong turn and was back at the first one, but a closer look let him notice a few definite differences, and it was more obvious with the third one. Though the designs were similar, the water in each of these fountains was behaving quite differently. In the first one, the water was acting just like he was expecting from water: springing from a pipe, from the bottom up and coming down according to the laws of physics. In the second one, it was as if water was magically condensing from somewhere above the surface of the pond and falling down like the rain. Quite beautiful and very hypnotic… no cloud above. The third one could seem a bit chaotic at first glance, but the movements were quite harmonious too and Yann could fathom some kind of rhythm or interactions going on. He couldn’t clearly see where the water was coming from, and he didn’t have the occasion to examine it as his attention was caught by a voices coming from a gathering of people nearby.

              He found them in a clearing; some people were sitting in front of what appeared to be puzzle pieces. The shapes were quite different from the ones he’d been accustomed to, but it didn’t seem weird at the moment. A man was standing and walking among the others, giving them information and directions on how to manipulate the different pieces.
              As Yann was approaching closer, he noticed that Yurick… no it was Quintin… it seemed he hadn’t called himself Yurick yet… well he was there too and he seemed quite puzzled and engrossed by what he had in front of him. He only had 2 pieces, but it seemed quite difficult to make them fit together.
              As Yann was about to call his friend, the man began to talk to him.

              “Hello. Do you want to try by yourself?..”

              Yann felt something was not as it should have been… it was as if the man was talking to him, and at the same time continuing with his explanations to the other people. And as he was staring at Yann, waiting for an answer, his attention was also focused on his students going on and on with some endless instructions on how it all functioned and what was the proper use of the pieces…

              “You’re new in this area, I never saw you here before, though you seem familiar…”

              That’s when he woke up, puzzled. A bit sad that he’d left the enchantment of the park, but relieved that he wouldn’t have to listen to all the babbling of the man. What was his name again? It had been lost in the huge amount of words, not clearly separated from the names of the tiles or the names of the other students.

              #1192
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “It’s the Interjection Intersection, TOOT TOOT coming through!” Baked Bean called gaily, holding her wine glass aloft as she squeezed through the crowd of revellers.

                “Gotta get some more of those Kwon Tum Fizz Sticks, TOOT TOOT! Coming through!”

                Baked Bean Barb was more than a little tipsy, but so was everyone else at Bea and Leonora’s Day of the Dead gathering. The Boulder Moving Party had had to be cancelled, due to the rain, but many of the guests had arrived anyway and the cottage was packed.

                Bea was still cackling madly and having a hoot with the guests into the wee hours, but Leonora was beginning to fade in and out. Sitting next to the woodstove, she closed her eyes, random snippets of conversations wafting through her mind interspersed with snatches of dreams.

                “…it’s the blanket prediction festival today…”

                “…they all say the same sling…”

                “…its The Absolute Sling!”

                “…not that there is some portals, or there isn’t any portals, not that it’s any predictions or any non-prediction, but you see, the watermelons are better than orange in the new energy…”

                “…cakes are great Bea, what are they called?”

                “Yuki Buns they are, and that’s an Araili Tart…French recipe actually…the Armelle Caramel isn’t French though, dunno where….”

                Someone snorted with laughter and said “I had Ogean Porridge for breakfast this morning…”

                “…bloody porridge, man, you’re in Spain now, you should be eating Paella Patel…”

                “Fran Fritters and Baruch Kebabs for me, mate, I like Obarbecued best…”

                “…Kai Jon Prawns and Creole Opancakes…”

                Hoots of laughter: “…oh a mergence…”

                “…Frags Legs…”

                “Take one aspect of Araili and one eye of Oba….
                One pinch of Snoot…”

                “…a tablesnoot…”

                “…and a cup of glukenitch droppings…”

                “Not that much!!”

                “Here, have some banoonanawananas and badulnuts” Bea said, passing round a bowl of, well, banoonanawananas and badulnuts. “Anyone for Oonatchos?”

                All this talk of food was making Leonora hungry. She rubbed her eyes and made her way into the kitchen.

                :yahoo_pumpkin:

                #1183

                Inside the cave Malvina was considering to move again.

                She couldn’t help but giggle softly at the thought of Arona fulminating at how restless that dragon of hers was. To tell the truth, she was one of high restlessness too. And her dragon, and his offspring were most of the time merely resonating to her high energy. Otherwise, they would be too happy to be left alone to dream in a corner of a cave glowing of glukenitch lights.

                Now, she had to wait for Leormn’s return from his little vacation to be able to move swiftly. Granted she could do it alone, but it would be so tedious, with all those eggs hidden in various places. Perhaps she could do with a little vacationing herself. She was thinking, Georges and Salome would be certainly glad to take care of the cave in her absence, and of her guests.

                She would go see them; she loved the little Ugling who was growing so fast he would now run in many places and ask funny questions. Vincentius (with the grumpy cat perched on his large shoulders out of reach from the bullying little one) was teaching him lots of things on the vegetation (mostly fungus and lichens inside) and on geology that the boy was eager to learn, with an unmistakable affinity for rocks though. He would be quick to learn how to summon the rock’s consciousness for many purposes.

                She almost got lost in the tunnels again. “Someone should get those indications straight, dammit!” she swore as she entered a dead-end. A few turns right, and another left, and she was in front of the painted wall with the ‘PEACE OFF’ painted door. So that’s where they went… the door was visibly shut now…
                A nearby snort suddenly caught her attention.

                “Buckberry? What are you doing here little precious; hasn’t Arona taken you with her? Well, silly me, obviously not.” She added, seeing the floor covered with crushed buckberries juice. “Awww, you don’t even have the appetite for your cherished buckberries…”

                Malvina knew of course that it wasn’t the closed door that kept Buckberry here, as he most probably could go wherever Arona was, if she summoned him properly, but it was rather the fact she had left without notice. Malvina laughed heartily “Aahaha, don’t be soft Buckie, she’s probably been tricked by your daddie and your little buggers of brothers, but she’ll come back…”

                #1182

                “Wait a minute, you’re telling me that you’re a Parcel Delivery company, and you don’t have a map? You deliver parcels and you don’t have a map, you don’t have the internet, and your delivery man doesn’t have a phone?”

                Bea was beginning to sound exasperated, Leonora thought. Must be the parcel people. “Parcel people?” she asked. “ A mobile phone wouldn’t be any use here anyway, Bea” she added “There’s no network cover.”

                “My address?” Bea said into the telephone in an increasingly desperate voice. “Three people have called asking for my address” Bea took a deep breath and tried to change her energy. “My address is The House Down The Road Behind The Black Horse Bar” Bea paused for breath and continued “Through The Green Gates which are Behind The Fountain And Next To The Palm Tree. Tomorrow? You were supposed to come today! You were supposed to come yesterday as a matter of fact so I stayed home all day…”

                “You weren’t going out anywhere anyway, Bea” Leo said mildly.

                “Well I won’t be here tomorrow, can you just leave the parcel at the post office? What? Of course they’ll know who it’s for, it’ll have my bloody name and address on it! What? No, I don’t know what street the post office is on, haven’t you got a map? No? Well Google it! You’re kidding. You’re a parcel delivery company! What’s your name, by the way?”

                “Well would you believe it, she hung up on me!”

                “How wonderfully Spanish” said Leonora. “Remember the last parcel people? Wouldn’t deliver to houses without a number. So if I go out and paint a number, let’s say 57, on my gate, you’ll deliver the parcel, I said to them, and they said, well yes I suppose so, so I did. I went out to the shed and grabbed the first paint…”

                “That swimming pool blue”

                “…yeah bit bright isn’t it, that blue paint and I painted the number on it, and the neighbours came out and asked what I was doing…”

                “They delivered the parcel though, didn’t they Leo”

                “They did. There’s a knack to dealing with parcel people.”

                Bea was quiet for a few minutes and then asked “What’s that then?”

                “What’s what?” asked Leonora.

                “What’s the knack? How do you get parcel people to deliver?”

                Leo laughed and said she didn’t really know. “Change your energy, make a game of it, see what happens.”

                Just then the phone rang. Bea answered it.

                “Well how about that” said Bea, hanging up the phone a few moments later. “That was the parcel delivery man. He’s on his way now.”

                Five or six hours later, just after the parcel delivery man had finally arrived, Bea beamed as she opened the brown cardboard parcel.

                “I’ve been dying to read this, it’s the sequel to T’Eggy Gets a Good Rogering. I ordered two copies, I thought Baked Bean Barb might want one too, you know, as a bit of a thank you for the book she’s bringing round for us.”

                Leo said “You what!” and rolled her eyes. “Really Bea, couldn’t you have chosen something better than that?”

                “Define ‘better’, Miss Prim Prunes” retorted Bea. She was too happy about the books arrival to mind Leo’s remarks. Then she shouted “OH MY GOD! They’ve sent the wrong books!” so loudly that Leo jumped.

                “Good grief!” exclaimed Leonora, taking a closer look. “Circle of Eights! But that’s the book that Baked Bean Barb found on the rubbish tip, the book she’s bringing round for us!”

                “I don’t believe it!” Bea whispered, awed by the bizarre coincidence. “That’s the book with us in it.”

                “What a hoot!” said Leo.

                #1174

                Balbina had had a quite difficult week. Feeling cold, having trouble to find sleep, not even speaking of being unable to do the kind of out-of-body travel she had managed to do last time.
                She was almost starting to doubt she could redo it again.

                Of course, the relocation at her son’s cottage was a source of much change in her habits, and although he wasn’t at home most of time, she wasn’t really feeling like she was ‘at home’. Strangest thing really, as for the time she was at the hospice she wasn’t feeling as much an alien as in this cottage. At least, at the hospice, she was in a sort of neutral environment, some place where she wasn’t undesirable (would it be asking for too much to actually be desirable at her age?). Here, the environment wasn’t neutral at all; everywhere everything reminded her of her son: his books, the posters, even the dust on the coffee table was almost looking as though it was his own.

                So she had to adjust. Contort her energy to fit —to crumple herself!— into this place, as it would be likely she would spend quite some time here. She wasn’t asking for much really, as she wasn’t able to move from the bed he’d had installed in the spare room. Ghastly room, with a creepy wallpaper from a has-been era of the past days, year 2000 or close she’d guess, gaudy as it was… oriented to the south, with hardly bearable heat during the day. She would have loved to see the coast on the north, but instead, the only window was showing her the shade of the trees, and that ominous alligator-green mountain just behind.

                If she couldn’t project in her dreams as she managed to do before, she would soon either die of boredom or of heat. She wasn’t too sure which one would be the most painless and efficient.

                She pushed the button to have her bed roll a little closer to the window; once straightened up a bit, she was able to see the passageway to the mountain. She couldn’t explain why she didn’t like this mountain; it was quite beautiful; perhaps she feared to be lost and abandoned. All the more since she could feel so much presence in this environment. Unseen presence, and trickster ones too.

                She was tired, and yawned so much her tense jaw’s muscles ached.

                On the emerald path to the forest, a moving teal wisp of light caught her attention. Funny plays of light at this hour of the day. But the wisp was persistent, and it started to move towards her.

                “Good day Balbina!”

                The crazy rabbit was back again. And… she was sleeping? In or out?

                “In or out, smell my foot, it’s your choice, and matters not
                but be quick, and come forth, for Anita and her folks this wicked way come!”

                “The tune is set, the tunnel is close
                Of playfulness you’ll need a hefty dose”

                #1171
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  “Mr Ryell?”
                  “Yes?”
                  “It’s such an honor to meet you, your carvings are absolutely gorgeous! I’ve bought one for my mother, she loves your creations so much!”

                  Sam H. Ryell, known as Sam to his friends, was waiting in his studio for Tina and Al to come pick him up for the Hallowe’en celebration. His exposition of vitrified watermelon and pumpkin carvings had attracted lots of folks from all corners of New Venice, quite unexpectedly.
                  He wasn’t too sure he deserved all the compliments, but if the lady’s mother loved his carvings, why muddy one’s pleasure.

                  Truth was, since he’d came back from the Floridisles, he’d felt completely uninspired to carve any longer. All the carvings that were on display were at least three months old. And the more recent of these were not actually of his doing,… not quite entirely.
                  He wanted to do something else, try other materials. No matter what they all said; he was fed up with vegetables.

                  “Perhaps I’ll try nuts next, what do you reckon, Foxam?”

                  The little nine-tailed fox yelped at him approvingly.

                  #1170

                  “See you on Saturday then, Barb, hasta luego!” Bea said, hanging up the phone. “Baked Bean Barb wants to bring a few friends to the Day of the Dead party, Leo, I said it was ok”. Turning to Leonora, who was hunched over the computer. she asked “Ok with you?”

                  “What?”

                  “I said…”

                  “Friends of Baked Bean Barb? Have you ever met any of them?”

                  “One or two, yes,” replied Bea “They were quite a colourful bunch, I thought”

                  “Colourful!” Leo nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee. “They’re colourful alright! Smelly too, most of them”

                  “Oh don’t be such a snob, Leo! You’d be smelly too if you lived in a car.”

                  “Good job the party’s going to be outside, that’s all I can say. Anyway Bea, have a look at this” Leo turned back to the computer. “This Reality Play thing I’m subscribed to, they’re spitting out new entries left and right this afternoon, I can hardly keep up with it”

                  “Shove over then, let’s ‘ave a look”

                  #1165

                  on a Yukailli Airlines Flyboat, Cruise#557
                  Long Pong vicinity, International Waters, October 2008

                  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are sorry to tell you that for unexpected reason, the flight has been rerouted to Auckland, New Zealand. Our final destination, Tikfijikoo Island is under strict quarantine for an unknown…

                  — “WHAT?!” Dory was drawn out of her clouds contemplation by the voice of Ignoratio Elenchi
                  — “Shhht!” Becky commanded her a bit rudely.

                  Then, after the voice of the captain faded out in an incomprehensible muddle, “Oh, great! Now, we didn’t get what’s happening…”
                  “Oh, as if we care for the reasons…” Dory said pragmatically. “Such a strange creating we did this time. I was so expecting to get to this island, and now it’s closed to tourists?”
                  “Don’t worry, we may get there later… At least, this time we got to board on this strange airline, even if just for a round trip.”
                  “Good point, Beck’!”

                  Then, as if a sudden idea had just stuck her she added with a gleam in her eyes “Hey, that’s a really nice creating actually; we may be back home just in time for Day of the Dead celebrations…”

                  Sometimes things seemed to work in cycles and round trips she thought to herself…

                  #1163

                  Day of the Dead soon, Leo, might be a good day to go through that door” Bea said.

                  “Well that’s the day that Baked Bean Barb is coming round with that book she found, Bea” replied Leonora.

                  “She can come with us, the more the merrier eh! We could have a bit of a party you know, maybe have a bonfire on the top of the mound and then go through the door, might be fun.”

                  “It’s all very well you saying we’ll just go through the door, Bea, but it’s not that easy.”

                  “Why not?”

                  “Because it isn’t a door, that’s why! It’s a pile of boulders blocking a cave entrance!”

                  “All the more reason to invite lots of people to the party then! It will be a boulder moving out of the way of the door party, and when the door way is clear, we can all go through it. Aren’t you dying of curiosity to see what’s inside that mound?”

                  “Yeah, I am. And we have to do it soon, because Jose will be back and then we’ll have to move. Might not be so easy then. Ok, let’s go for it. I’ll make a list who to invite.”

                  “Some nice big strong strapping lads is what we need.”

                  “No kidding”

                  “To move the boulders, I meant” Bea said, rolling her eyes.

                  #1159

                  “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

                  Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

                  Elizabeth read the last two lines she’d been working on to her publisher, Godfrey Pig-Littleton.

                  Godfrey snorted. “Elizabeth, really! You jest, I hope.”

                  “Well, I was just trying to fit each of the four themes into one chapter, they all seemed to fit together so easily” Elizabeth replied. “Why not? Tempestuous, Elusive Dreams, Unspoken Looks, and Pleasure”

                  “You seemed to have fit them all into two sentences, never mind a chapter. And your characters sound like characters in a play.”

                  “Well they are characters in a play, Godfrey” replied Elizabeth.

                  “Ham actors, that’s what I meant. Anyway, Liz” Pig-Littleton said with a slightly mischievous grin, “What if Gayesh doesn’t want his face slapped by Becky?”

                  “What do you mean?”

                  “What if Becky doesn’t want to slap Gayesh?”

                  “Well, she will if I write it into the play, surely!” Elizabeth started to frown. She knew that once she invented her characters that they continued to exist in a reality of their own, being free to create their own realities in whatever probable dimension they found themselves in, but she had never really stopped to think about the ramifications of her continuing to write incidents into their lives.

                  “Maybe Becky has moved on from where you left her last time you wrote about her, in a completely different direction” Godfrey continued “And maybe she doesn’t want to play along with your theme word game. I mean really, is it fair to make her? Maybe she was having more fun doing whatever it was she was doing while you weren’t even thinking about what she should do. Quite rude really to interrupt her just so that you could do your word theme games. Bit of a cheek, I’d say.”

                  “Oh Godfrey, that’s easily explained” Elizabeth had remembered Probabilities, which was always a handy excuse in continuity disputes. “Another probable character will do what I write for them to do, there are probably hundreds of probable characters now, all going in different directions.”

                  “Is that wise? Really Elizabeth, that sounds outrageously irresponsible. Hundreds of probable characters running amok, and you have absolutely no idea what they’re all getting up to.”

                  “Well they’re not my responsibility Godfrey, for heavens sake!”

                  “Well if they’re not your responsibility, then who’s responsible for them?”

                  “Nobody is responsible for them!”

                  “Well that sounds like a recipe for chaos if you ask me” Godfrey said with a sniff. “You’ve unleashed hundreds of probable Becky’s into reality, not to mention Leo’s and Bea’s….”

                  “And Pig-Littleton’s” Elizabeth interjected under her breath.

                  “… and Sanso’s and Dory’s” Godfrey, who hadn’t heard Elizabeth, continued to reel off the characters names. “I mean how big do you think reality is? The rate you’re filling it up with probable characters there’ll be no space left!”

                  Elizabeth started to laugh. “Oh Godfrey, you’re a case. Ahahah! They don’t take up any space at all! Anyway, Godfrey” Elizabeth turned back to her notepad. “Listen to the latest chapter and tell me what you think:

                  “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

                  Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

                  Godfrey Pig-Littleton was impressed. “Elizabeth, how perfectly you incorporated the four themes into one brilliantly short chapter”

                  Elizabeth closed her notebook with a satisfied smile and yawned. Let them all do whatever the bloody hell they all want to, I’m off to bed. Plenty of probable characters available in the morning, waiting in the wings.

                  #2030

                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Some selected bits from one tag cumulo-cloud:

                    — “Matter (is) dimensional energies realized”
                    — “Expect Hector (to) surface, Rafaela!”
                    — “Leonora gets (to) keep saying ‘play attention!’”
                    — “Close rain, friend magic, hope water seeing”
                    — “Far within thinking, Arona sort days, (her) hold gives human comments great meaning”
                    — “Soon blue seconds, call straight (at the) door, met surely physical; notice move (of) essence (in) fat huge dreams”
                    — “Universe appear (in) book story”
                    — “Malvina line although familiar answered busy funny heading”
                    — “Tina looked love taking lots question indeed”
                    — “Word usually working (in) short shifting pooh adventure”
                    — “Seems Armelle starting soft reason; strange perhaps (in the) middle (of) rolling help (one may) spot dragons’ truth past spider times”
                    — “‘Tell inside reality’: three words step (to) creating”
                    — “Becky, allow yourself finding single beautiful playing light, dear”
                    — “Cloud impulse shall house explain surprised black connection”
                    — “Cool trust(ed) friends, portal plane”
                    — “Aliens coincidence next talking”
                    — “Walking arms seem flight silence; stone creature sound already entered field (of) aware(ness); scene trip apparently given reading”
                    — “Beyond rolled Theresa, lately cave telling unusual morning”
                    — “Wortex large, merely Glo”

                    #2029

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      A moment later she fell in the pool, slipping on some loose change. The part had been a free for all, and her host had alot to answer for. lots of drinks had been given to the grey goat and mavis didn’t give a shit. she meant during the days that followed to find salome, to be able to find some meaning to the story about leonora. It was a fine day for a plane ride she thought as she waited in line feeling excited until she noticed a red working lamp advertising love, but she never noticed how much easier it was during the news. The finn connection had her smiling as she thought to try creating calm and stay present and breathe as she looked around and noticed her arms were far from normal. suddenly shhe was walking away. the goat forgotten but wrick managed to save the library which was full of fresh air known only to sri who was to sort it all out although he laughed about the wood fire of the 19 planets and she was behind herself all the way

                      (oops, said Bea, I forgot to indicate which of the words was from the word cloud and which were mine. Oh well, never mind….)

                      #1158
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Mademoiselle Mongoose was the Director of Public Relations at the Z.O.O. (short for Zoological Organization of Outcasts) which was no easy task. Her job entailed ensuring that the members remained Outcasts whilst endeavouring to foster an attitude of Acceptance from the general public. The dilemma was that oftentimes, once an Outcast was Accepted, he no longer qualified as an Outcast and according to the rules, was no longer eligible to remain at the Z.O.O.

                        Mlle Mongoose couldn’t find the new Outcast anywhere. The enormous Anaconda, affectionately nicknamed Nana Croissant, was Absent Presumed Escaped Soft, which was one of Mlle Mongoose’s biggest headaches at the Z.O.O. There seemed to be a disproportionate number of A.P.E.S. at the Z.O.O.


                        Mlle Mongoose sighed. If Nana Croissant couldn’t be located, Mlle Mongoose would have to report the disappearance to her superior, Sir Raphael Cabra-Chevre. Thankfully the Z.O.O. also had a disproportionately high population of R.A.B.B.I.T.S. (Rare Intermediate ‘Best Bait In Town’ Stars), to cover for the erratic and unpredictable behaviour of the A.P.E.S., ensuring that there was plenty going on for the General Public at all times. (It may be noted by the S.W.A.N.S. ~ Sumafi Workers Affiliated Normal Society ~ that R.I.B.B.I.T.S. would be more technically accurate, however they were generally accepted as R.A.B.B.I.T.S. to Those In The Show ~ otherwise known as T.I.T.S.)

                        Mlle Mongoose decided to enlist the help of the C.A.M.E.L.S. (Central Agency for Missing, Escaped & Lost Softs) before alerting Sir Raphael Cabra-Chevre.

                        The Case of The Disappearing Aardvark was another matter, though. Mlle Mongoose decided to call in the M.E.E.R.C.A.T.S. (Missing Entities & Essences Roll Call and Time Share)

                        #1156

                        “Hey, Leo, look at this here in the newspaper ~ my book’s being made into a movie!”

                        “What book’s that then, Bea? Not that dreadful ‘T’eggy Gets a Good Rogering’, surely.” Leonora replied dismissively.

                        “Oh they’re not calling it that for the movie…..”

                        “Bloody good job if you ask me” Leo interrupted, and then exclaimed “OH!”

                        “What?”

                        “Book sync!”

                        “Book sync? What book sync?”

                        “I forgot to tell you, Baked Bean Barb called…”

                        “Who?!”

                        “You remember, we met her in that bar down on the coast awhile back, remember? We got talking over a few tapas ~ found we had some mutual friends back home and all…”

                        “Funny how that happens, eh ~ small world, innit? So what did she call for then?”

                        “Well, it’s the funniest thing, she said when she was rummaging around on the rubbish tip….”

                        “Oh now I remember, you mean Baked Bean Barb! The one that’s lived in her Ford Fiesta for 15 years, and finds food in dustbins? That one? On the run, wasn’t she?”

                        “That’s the one! On the run for 30 years because of that Baked Bean Incident that was in all the papers”

                        “You meet all sorts down here, eh. So what did she call for?”

                        “Well” continued Leonora “It’s the strangest thing! She said she found a book on the rubbish tip, which was in English, so she says she took the book ~ she reads alot you know, Barb does, even though she’s only got one eye. Dunno how she manages it really, her glasses are always so dirty…”

                        “Will you get to the point?”

                        “Hang on, hang on, I’m getting there….she found this book, right, so she goes back to wherever she’s camped up, you know, with the other travellers, all them old hippies on their way to Morocco for the winter I expect….”

                        “We should go with them next winter Leo, might be fun”

                        “I reckon it would Bea ~ well with Jose coming back soon from that island, we’ll have to go somewhere ~ anyway, as I was saying, Barb starts reading this book, she says it’s the most peculiar book she’s ever read, never read anything like it, she says, but she can’t put it down she says ~ well, you’ll never guess what!”

                        “I can’t guess, Leo, I’m waiting for you to tell me.”

                        “Barb says we’re in the book!”

                        “What do you mean, we’re in the book?”

                        “We’re in the book! ‘Leonora and Beattie’ are in the book! Renting a finca from a ‘Jose’ and living in the mountains in Andalucia!”

                        “You’re having me on!” exclaimed Bea. “I’ve gotta see this to believe it.”

                        #1147

                        :multimedia:
                        “Norm! NORM!!” Sue Flay shouted. “We’re filming the garden scene now, where are you?”

                        But Norm was nowhere to be found. He’d stumbled upon an unexpected problem while filming T’Eggy & Phlynn with Sue Flay ~ a problem too embarrassing to mention, and one he could hardly keep a secret, given the nature of the P Movie. He’d managed to excuse himself during the last scene, feigning illness, but what if it happened again today?

                        “You’re focusing on what you don’t want again, Norm.” The voice made him jump. He’d thought he was alone in the treehouse, he thought no-one would find him hiding there in the leafy depths of the spinney, high up in the foliage. He looked around, wondering where the voice was coming from.

                        “You haven’t generated me physical, Norm, but you can if you wish” the voice said.

                        “How do I do that?” asked Norm.

                        “Allow, that’s all” the voice replied.

                        “Oh what rubbish!” Norm said in an agitated whisper. “What stupid advice!”

                        “Ha ha ha! As you wish, my friend” replied the voice, sounding rather amused.

                        “If you hadn’t just given me such stupid advice I might have felt more inclined to ask you for some advice about this awful problem” Norm whispered crossly.

                        “Are you asking me for advice or not?”

                        “Well if you’ve got anything USEFUL to say, then say it!”

                        “If you go down to the garden today,
                        You’re sure to have a surprise.
                        There’s a herb growing there and you don’t have to pay,
                        It’s growing in front of your eyes.
                        The magic you see is everywhere
                        It never runs out of stock
                        Go down to the garden, if you dare….”

                        “I asked you for advice, not a daft bloody poem!” Norm hissed.

                        “You wish to be hard as a rock?”

                        YES!” spat Norm in frustration, blushing furiously. What’s the friggen garden got to do with it?”

                        “There’s a herb in the garden called Horny Goat

                        “Oh PulEASE…..” Norm rolled his eyes.

                        “Horny Goat Weed will do the trick.
                        And straighten up your droopy…”

                        ENOUGH! Good Grief, I get the message. What am I supposed to DO with it, roll in it? Eat it? Smoke it?”

                        “It matters not, my friend. That’s the magic of it all. You can choose any method”

                        “Are you sure about this?” asked Norm, who was willing to try anything at this point. “How do I know I can trust you?”

                        “Ha ha ha! Trust youSELF, Norm!”

                        “Who are you anyway?” Norm asked suspiciously.

                        But the voice chuckled and faded, leaving Norm in a quandary in the treehouse.

                        “Oh bugger it, I may as well give it a go. I can’t stay here forever, and anyway, I’ve run out of cigarettes.”

                        Norm climbed down the tree and marched over to the the film crew.

                        “Oh THERE you are Norm!” Sue came rushing up to him. “What perfect timing, we’re breaking for lunch.” She gave Norm a spontaneous hug. She really was rather nice, Norm thought, smiling at her.

                        “Would you like some soup? We put lots of fresh herbs in it from the garden.”

                      Viewing 20 results - 641 through 660 (of 805 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 04h 52min…)

                      Recent Replies

                      WordCloud says