Search Results for 'wedding'

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  • #6024

    In reply to: Story Bored

    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Story Bored 8

      one

      Liz was waxing hysterical to her publisher. “I tell you, Bronkel, you complain of the loose threads wandering into nothingness, the deranged and meaningless story lines … turns out it isn’t a personality flaw; it’s those lonely vacations in the desert where I was forced to be the boy my mother always wanted.” 

      two

      (plagiarised)

      “Oh that’s a fantastic idea Becky!” encouraged Tina (anxious to divert attention from the fact her egg shampoo had turned her own hair green) when Becky suggested tentatively that perhaps she could try Al’s advanced visualisation techniques to turn this disastrous start to her wedding day around.

      “Yes, imagine it as you would like it to be, no matter how unrealistic it may seem. Imagine looking in the mirror and seeing your skin glowing like a glowing diamond. After all, you have nothing to lose Becky-pooh.”

      three

      Tifikijoo Island has been a casualty of rising sea levels. The question is, who is seeking to repopulate the island with giant spiders?

      #6019

      In reply to: Story Bored

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Board 8, Story 2

        Margit, the maudlin woman on the beach, was clearly the mad doctors mother. The old snapshot Aunt Idle found of the boy Brynjúlfursdóttir a.k.a. Bronklehampton proved that he was indulging in strange experiments even as a young child.

        Becky regretted marrying Sean but was glad she kept the wedding presents, especially that YouDo doll.  Who knew what that YouDo doll was capable of at the time, but it’s ability to teleport items during the quarantine was proving extremely useful.

        Sam wasn’t impressed with the  Spider Amusement Park.  “It may have a spider, but it’s not much of a park and certainly doesn’t look very amusing,” he said while perusing the holiday brochures.

        #4645

        It had been a day of full work for Ricardo, rather than his frequently dull work at the paper.
        Connie and Hilda were crazily busy bouncing off bits of odd news to each other and it was a sort of playful banter that even had Sweet Sophie come out of her pre-lunch-post-lunch slumber that occasionally trailed until tea time.

        News of the Rim had been scarce, there was no denying. Honestly, he wondered how Bossy M’am managed to still pay the bills and their wages, however meager those (or his) were. He giggled thinking about how she probably scared the debt collectors off their wits with her best impersonation of Johnny Depp playing Jack Sparrow playing Tootsie meets Freddy Krueger.

        Speaking of which, he couldn’t help but eavesdrop, while pretending to clean the coffee cups and the butter knives full of vegemite and scone crumbs.

        “Dolls! Are you daft? What about all those crop circles in France instead?”
        “Listen, you decrepit tart, I’m telling you there’s plenty to investigate about this Findmy stuff group. Secret dolls scattered around the world, masonic occult secret symbols…”
        “Hardly matter for an insert on 4th page, dear. While on the other hand, elongated skulls, secret underground bases in Antarctica…”
        “We talked about this! Conspiracy theories are off limits! We only want the real stuff, the odd happenings that hits your neighbour that you wouldn’t have known about without us reporting it! But dolls! that’s something, no?”
        “Flimsy at best…”
        “What else then?”
        “I don’t know, seesh, what about Hundreds attending two frogs wedding in India ?”
        “Already covered, too mainstream…”
        “What about the Mothman of Tchernobyl?”
        “We stopped cryptozoology, remember, after that pathetic chase after the trenchcoat ape that got us torpedoed in the other paper rags when we reported it without checking our facts?”
        “Facts! FACTS! Don’t you get me started about FACTS!”

        Suddenly, they both turned simultaneously at Ricardo, seemingly realizing his presence.

        Ric’, this cuppa isn’t going to make itself, dear.” They both said like a couple of creepily synched automatons.

        #3971
        Jib
        Participant

          “What happened to you, Finnley ?” asked Liz. The maid, usually neatly permed looked dishevelled and had forgotten to remove her cucumber mask.
          “The delivery man”, began Finnley, “He said someone ordered 30.”
          “30 what ?”
          “30 crates of carrot champagne.”
          “Carrot champagne ? I didn’t know they could make alcohol out of carrots,” said Liz. She pouted lasciviously, thinking of what she could do with all that champagne. She had never taken a bath in champagne, that could be a first. She would have to be careful with the carrot tan though.
          “They can do alcohol with anything”, added Godfrey.
          “Who ordered that ?” asked Liz, “And why 30 crates ?”
          “Apparently, it’s your cousin Badul”, said Finnley. A cucumber fall off her face.
          Liz’ lips closed tight at the mention of her cousin.
          “It’s Badul’s intention to have the wedding at your property.”
          Liz dropped her spaghetti hat on the freshly mown grass. Roberto bent over, showing even more of his crack, to pick up the hat before it attracted ants. Liz bit her lips.

          #3945
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Liz looked at the fat dealer with a snicker “Oh, you’re still here talking nonsense Big G? Haven’t you got your cabbages already? The staff these days… FINNLEY!” she shouted to the gaping muttering maid. “Snap out of this silly trance, will you! Get the man his cabbages, and show those drug-dealing gentlemen out. Can’t be here all day with the cement to set, I have a wedding to plan now.”

            She turned at the window, looking for Godfrey who had temporarily left her, “what on Earth is he doing talking to that devilishly handsome fellow. Those rubberducks give me an idea for the wedding dress though. Golden yellow for the colour. With gorgeous yellow shoes. I’m feeling ages younger today… Oh, sweet love.”

            #3939
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Big G came to the rescue, as poor Finnley was visibly at a loss for words. Having her talking culinary delights was in itself a revelation as to her levels of stress.

              Liz, dear. I think your cousin Badul is going to invite us for her nth wedding. There always has been a sort of untold competition between the two of you, hasn’t it?”
              “Godfey, don’t be silly. There hardly was ever a competition at all, to begin with. Now, be a dear and go fetch me a new husband.”

              Godfrey had anticipated the unexpected again. His eyes were set on the window, where the shady and hunky enough window-cleaner was peering through, visibly interested by the whole play. With a little make-over, he would make Liz a fine tenth husband, he reckoned.

              #3869

              Sam woke up the next morning feeling puzzled. There was no apparent reason for it, so he thought it might be related to the new moon or to some singular configuration of space time crossing with the known universe. He scratched his 3 days and a half beard a few times. He liked the sound of it and did it frequently. Only then would he get out of bed and prepare some breakfast.
              When he came to the kitchen, the tv was on. A certain Godfrey was speaking about an upcoming wave of migrants due to lack of rafts in the sea of confusion. Sam thought he wasn’t the only one feeling puzzled.
              “Do you have all your papers ready ?” asked Al, already dressed up as if he was going to a wedding.
              “I like when you wear your tuxedo”, said Sam. Al looked absolutely delicious. “And yes, I have all my papers ready. But I wonder… Why do you need papers when you’re asking for a new identity?”

              #3476

              The layer of clouds that had been covering Abalone for so many years had cleared up in no time. So much had changed since they went through the labyrinth of time in the old temple three weeks ago. Karmalott and Gazalbion were no more. The giant beanstalk had simply disintegrated after the mass beliefs that kept it standing were reconfigured, and Karmalott had fallen on its land counterpart. It was hard to tell one from the other when they first came back to the place.

              Gwinnie looked at the giant storks nesting on the cliffs of the sea of beliefs. Her heart bloomed, she felt appreciation and gratitude over Abalone’s Nature. She had spent so many years in the bog that it had infused her with the wisdom of the island. She had been able to go unharmed through the corridors of time, because she simply knew whenre to go.

              As soon as they entered the Lion mouthed door, she had taken George’s hand and whispered : follow me and you’ll be safe. That man was so trusting in life and he had such a pure heart that he did as she said. He’d told her afterward that despite all the images and illusions, his mind was focused on the green light in his heart.

              When they arrived in the central room of the pyramid, she had changed. Her skin was still green, but she had found in the corridors the years she had lost in the bog.

              They had decided to stay and make a fresh start. The former King of Karmalott was now helping with the reconstruction of the entire island. With his natural leader talent, he’d been creating pooling teams of magi and non-magi for different tasks : clearing the ground of the fallen cities, regrouping the lost souls, soothing the injured and building the new transitional Spas. With Gwinnie’s innate knowledge of Abalone and his innate trust, they could do marvels at bending beliefs and reality.

              Actually, the transitional spa was Rene and Fanella’s idea. The two of them had been very helpful, especially since Gwinnie had repaired the sphinx. He was created to guard the temple and warn people who wanted to enter the labyrinth of time with an enigma. The corridors of time were not for the faint of heart, but to help people contact their inner knowledge to grow past their fears and blockages. What his creators had not foreseen was their own departure of the island. Rene was attached to the temple and left behind as they took no material possessions with them.

              His flaw was that he needed people, and as no one was coming anymore, with time he became obsessed with the idea of making new friends. Forgetting his other duties and his connection to the timeline of Abalone, his obsession leaked and the island was thrust through time and space, intersecting with earth reality at specific dates and places. It was becoming more and more difficult to control it and the bogs anomalies were becoming harder to contain.

              Fanella simply recognized Rene as the tall ebony man in her vision. She told them the yellow man, that had saved her from drowning, had disappeared quickly as soon as they entered the labyrinth, but the hook-legged man had seized her and they were caught in the most horrid nightmares. She was saved because his hook got stuck in a tiger slug pit. Rene swore he had nothing to do with it, although it was clear he had a soft spot for the young maid.

              A week after they got out of the labyrinth, the girl had come to Gwinnie in the Garden of El Refugio. The green woman was helping with the introduction of new species of plants to Abalone’s circle of life.
              “What is this plant ? “, asked Fanella.
              “It is an okra. I’ve found it in the memories of one of the recently disengaged person from Earth.”
              “The fruit has such an unusual shape.”
              The silence that followed lasted for a few minutes. Gwinnie was focused on establishing a fulfilling symbiotic relationship between the plant and the island ecosystem, transforming one to acclimate the other and vice versa.
              “How are your friends ?” asked the green woman.
              “My friends ? Oh! They are good. Enjoying the spa and the new attractions.”
              It was clear the young person had something in mind. Her loving glances to the sphinx during the last week had made it clear to everyone. The girl finally blurted it out.
              “You know, Rene,” Fanella blushed as she said the name, “with the recent arrivals of transitioners, he’s got a lot of work for just one sphinx.”
              “Oh! I’m sure he’s going to be just fine with that.”
              “Yes, but, you know he’s been alone for such a long time.”
              “Yes, Fanella?” Gwinnie stopped to look at the girl. She seemed frail, but she had this inner strength that helped her cross time and space before she ever came to Abalone.
              “I want you to make me a sphinx so that I can be with Rene.” She said that without blushing, but pink colored her cheeks at the mention of the name.
              If Gwinnie ever had a doubt of being in transition, it was dissipated. Her surprise almost broke the delicate connection of the okra with the island.
              Becoming a sphinx wasn’t a trivial request. They still had to discuss about it, of course, and when it was obvious it wasn’t just a passing fancy, Fanella was granted her wish.
              As a sphinx-wedding gift, George gave her his wings.
              “They are robust and will serve you well”, he told her.

              #2310
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                “I never knew anyone have so many haircuts!,” Becky said huffily to Tina. “I suppose your latest one is okay though, it has that sort of casual, sexy … I just got out of bed and can’t even be bothered combing my hair look.”

                Tina smiled kindly at Becky. Poor old Becky, her hair never really grew back properly after all the stress of the wedding fiasco.

                “Well, we will both need new haircuts if we are going to Paris in June for the Be Free, Be Me! conference”, she said cheerfully.

                #94
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Best known in Oorth (Dimension of Ooh) for his best selloor Words of Comfort for the Descending, a groot philosoopher and wool of wisdoom, Erwin P Lemone has made a few delightful and abysmally profoond aphorisms that needed a proper anthology.

                  Be it the place for such an endeavoor.

                  A few quotes

                  “Sometimes it takes a single sniggly thorny path to go through to reach Elysian avenues much more efficiently” — ID850

                  “rainy wedding, merry marriage” — ID1183

                  “Better speak nonsense than be dead or sorry” — ID1644

                  “It’s not the writer’s job to piece the stuff life is made of together, it’s the job of the reader.” — ID1661

                  “A new-born book is like a little baby, except it smells only of ink, and doesn’t make spurious sounds” (said at an interview with journalist Finckle Frettle on Oo-TV)

                  #1036
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Dory, have you thought about what you’re going to say to Rita? If you go off travelling again now, you won’t be back for the wedding, you’ll get sidetracked.” said Dan. “You’ll get sidetracked in Long Pong for sure, with the All Long Pong Aims going on this month.”

                    #849

                    Al had just inadvertently telepathically overheard Becky’s long monologue, and was rather amused at the situation that he decided to stay quiet and refrain from intervening.
                    It was a sort of interesting experience, to see how it would develop…

                    A voice was starting to make itself heard through Becky’s neuronal pathways though… A feminine voice first… Then a male…
                    He could even sense a third presence too…

                    Al was surprised, as he apparently didn’t really care about what kind of probability would express itself. It seemed it was all valid, and yet, there was something that wanted to make itself heard.

                    Becky was quiet now. She seemed to have finally seen that nothing would happen as intensely and quickly as in her swift imagination.

                    But Al was intrigued… Who were those presence, they felt lively, very humorous too. But they were concerned about Becky’s changes of mood. They were considering probabilities too, as though Becky’s choices were important to them.

                    We are the first-borns of Becky answered the feminine voice who had keep still.
                    Potential first sniggered the male voice.
                    Oh, shut up, Oliver the third one said you know well enough we are creating our realities, so better give her some time… No need to freak her out… After all, it’s like for Dory’s nine dogs, they only came gradually, and she just accepted them…

                    Dory? Al was wondering… He had heard that name recently… At the wedding party perhaps?

                    Dory’s a past overlapping focus of Becky and her step-mother too… answered Léan, the quiet one.

                    Al was befuddled. He had first thought these voices were only Becky’s playing games with herself.

                    Oh sure it was, answered Oliver, we’ve just be using that wave of thoughts to bring us through. It’s very multi-layered.
                    See, take the dogs which Illana talked about right now. You know some of these dogs Dory had (or has, or will have), they have “flecks” of people close to Dory, other essences’ energies. Some are very clearly noticeable, other are more mingled. These voices are multiplexes of voices, more or less subtle energies being expressed. Some are very deep. We were riding the surface of them.

                    So, Illana, Lean and Oliver? That’s it?… Nice to meet you… Al was still thinking aloud (like in big characters printed on a silent kaleidoscopic screen)
                    And that will be your focus names? Oh, yes… probable ones.
                    It’s funny you know, it’s like you are becoming more real now. I can feel some associations coming that help bring you into form. Like Oliver, I associate him with a black dog of Dory. A little grumpy one with funny black eyes.

                    The two female laughters mingled into one delightful chorus. Ahaha, we will give you a point for accurate connection!

                    “And Léan,” Al continued, “you feel like a young blond woman, friend of Dory ready to get married… Yet, I can see you have a black complexion in this probable focus, unlike your siblings… Sounds a bit confusing…”

                    Ahaha, another point!

                    “Let me see, Illana now… I got you connected with another friend of Dory… An paleontologist or geologist, living in the US, blond lively woman with painted nails, and… the image is just gone now…”

                    — Hehehe, that’s close enough, said Illana’s voice. I can see we’ll meet soon Al

                    And the moment after, the wisps of light were gone.

                    #847

                    Becky’s heart was racing and her breath was coming in short rasping breaths. I need to change probabilities, and I need to do it fast! There’s not a moment to lose.

                    Maybe I can change the past, she thought, change it to a probability in which I didn’t marry Sean in the first place. Oh Lordy, but how do I do that exactly? Her head was spinning.

                    Maybe I should just run away, now, pack my bags and disappear before Sean gets back from the bar.

                    No, that won’t do, she said, biting her lip in consternation. I want to keep the wedding presents, especially that YouDo doll.

                    Becky rummaged through the pile of magazines, looking for the script of the Reality Play. Oh dear god, if I change probabilities Al and the others will kill me, it will make such a mess of the threads.

                    Becky was distraught. What shall I do! she exclaimed, wringing her hands.

                    BREATHE, a deeply resonant female voice said. BREATHE into YOU, that’s right, BREATHE…..

                    Becky stopped wringing her hands and drew a shaky breath.

                    That’s right, the voice continued, BREATHE into YOU…..

                    Becky took another deep breath.

                    BREATHE…..

                    Oh for heavens sake, Becky interrupted rather rudely, That’s enough of that blimmen breathing for now, thank you very much, now bugger off, I need to think.

                    The voice in her head changed to a masculine one, that said with a chuckle, “THINKING” is absolutely FATAL, my dear, just DO what ever is easiest for YOU.

                    You mean, do whatever I want, and bugger everyone else? asked Becky. Wouldn’t that be a bit inconsiderate? I mean, don’t I have a responsibility to the others?

                    HAHAHAH, you are funny, said the voice. Did all that Seth and Elias stuff go in one ear and out the other?

                    What Seth and Elias stuff? Haha, just kidding, of course I remember it all. Reading about it and actually DOING it, well, they are two different things……her voice trailed off, and she frowned, deep in thought.

                    Thinkin’ aint doing, said the voice.

                    #844

                    Hey, I’ve found a brownies carton wrap in the trash Yann!
                    Mmm, and you really think it’ll be enough? a doubtful Yann answered to Yurick
                    Oh, don’t worry, there’s also a couscous one, and an Ureu biscuit one, answered Yurick with a wide grin
                    Well, if you say so then, smiled Yann, contemplatively rolling his eyes à la Finn.

                    A few hours later, their patch-ckage solidly wrapped up, they had it sent to their friends.
                    When, in the post-office, the big black lady with piercing eyes (drôlely resembling Rita, a friend of Dory Yann had seen in a dream who went wedding dress shopping recently) asked them if there was anything of value in the package, they almost burst out laughing.
                    Yann had the mind to answer, only some stuff… as if of no consequence.

                    #2019

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

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

                      #2130

                      In reply to: Snooteries

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Sweet Dreams, she said, Of tarts and buns
                        Of wedding cakes and tarty nuns
                        Of snoots and moose
                        And moon papoose
                        And mushrooms, monks and hot cross buns…..
                        Sweet Dreams!

                        Schnortz, The Kuzhebarian Laughing Monk
                        :yahoo_sleepy: :yahoo_sleepy: :yahoo_sleepy: :yahoo_sleepy:

                        #1712

                        In reply to: Synchronicity

                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Another wedding sync: Jan IM’d me yesterday to tell me a wedding story (as well as Rachel IMing me to tell me she was making an appointment with her wedding planner.)

                          #750
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

                            Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

                            Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

                            It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

                            She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

                            She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

                            Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

                            It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

                            Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

                            Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

                            The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

                            An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

                            She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

                            What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

                            I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

                            perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

                            She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

                            #1706

                            In reply to: Synchronicity

                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              I found a few of my friends in the garden centre this morning.

                              Rachel IM’d me a few minutes ago to announce that she was making an appointment with a Wedding Planner to prepare for her October wedding. I recommended Tina & Al. :yahoo_whistling:

                              #1705

                              In reply to: Synchronicity

                              Jib
                              Participant

                                I had a few syncs today too… not mentionning all these pooh stuffs…
                                well yes I had a pooh synch today, I was to go to the drugstore to update my vital card (dunno how to tell it in english, but it’s a card that have some information about individuals concerning their health and stuffs…), I walk right with my left foot into a big shit… a funny signal to bring to my attention that I was not paying attention.
                                That’s for the pooh synch…
                                After that, I read that you mentionned pee in some comments… well I had a pee sync too when going to another drugstore this noon just before I came back home for lunch… there was that paper with a cutie pic of a Gibbon, and it mentionned the HURO project… uro being also a prefix for pee…
                                When I got home I had mails from my parents… and they told me they had a new car (just for the record, the old car was red, the new car is… grey) and they had sent me the dvd of their wedding with a pic of my mother in wedding dress on the front…

                                When I checked my emails, my father had sent me pictures of my mother in front of the new car… and she was holding a plush Gibbon in her hands :)) I may put the pic later.

                                So many synchs :D

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