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  • Hilda regretted her decision to fly to the British Isles, now that she was caught up in all the Fuxit brouhaha. The mysterious plague doctor in Chester had turned out to be nothing more than a common madman, looking for a party to crash. The Mexican band with a wheelbarrow full of bricks welcoming the orange toupee’d ... · ID #4062 (continued)
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  • in reply to: Synchronicity #1717
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    Participant

      that’s interesting Jib, reading this bought back vivid recollection of a book I had as a kid of the “golden age” actors and actresses. I found a number of funny little synchs when reading the Deborah Kerr link … this one made me smile “Her first acting teacher was her aunt, Phyllis” …. as when I was writing the comment for Shar and Glor yesterday, (it is comment number 1233) one of them said she got her psychic abilities from her Aunt Phyllis, a name not based on anyone, it just came to mind with a certain luminosity …. (although I then changed the name to Aunt Philly to be more in character :yahoo_laughing: ).

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #756

      Franiel awoke, it took him a few moments to get his bearings. He stretched, and slowly adjusted to his waking state. He wondered how long he had slept, it was quiet and dark. Although he couldn’t see much, he could feel that dawn was not far away. The ghost hour.

      He must have slept for hours.

      Remembering Leonard he looked around and softly called out. There was no reply, and unless Leonard was sleeping, Franiel was alone. “Aye” he sighed, and finding the blanket from his pack, fashioned it into a tent over his head and took shelter in it. It was nearly day, another day.

      Thinking of his encounter with Leonard, the strange dancing and especially the sweet taste of the nectar, Franiel reached into his pack again to retrieve the chalice.

      It is no longer there

      Franiel was not quite sure if he heard a voice utter these words, or if it was just a strange sense of knowing. He still felt around, taking out each item carefully and methodically, emptying the pack, not really wanting to believe the chalice has gone, nor to consider what the implications of this loss might be.

      Perhaps he did not put the chalice back in the pack after all? He crawled around his surrounds, squinting into the half light of the morning, feeling the dew damp ground. Deciding to trust what he knew in his heart already he sat back and quietly watched as the sky eventually flushed brilliant crimson.

      Red sky in the morning. A warning ….it is only weather words but ….

      Reluctant to consider his options, he instead considered some dandelions, how luminous they looked in the morning light.

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #755

      — “Sha! I think I’ve had one of them bloody brainwaves of mine!”

      — “You are the smart one Glor … ‘ang on, I’ll just light my fag then I can listen proper.”

      — “Well you know how Vessie has been so good to us and I still feel a bit awful about breaking that bloody door down.”

      — “We meant well though Glor. Our hearts were in the right places.”

      — “They were Sha … but then her bloke being there and all …. well that dress she was wearing Sha, it barely covered her privates.”

      — “She’s a native girl though Glor,” Sharon giggled, “She’d have grown up wearing them little grass skirts and not much else I reckon …. mind she’s ever so nice though ain’t she.”

      — “Oh she is …. and there’s nowhere to buy clothes on this bloody island neither, she must have to make do, bless ‘er little ‘eart.”

      — “It could do with a mall I reckon Glor,” said Sharon reflectively, “this place would really take off if there was a small mall.”

      — “I think you’re onto something there Sha, oh that would be bloody marvellous I reckon, a small mall.”

      — “Anyway what’s your brainwave then Sha? I’m all agog with curiousness.”

      — “Well I reckon with all the eating and lying around we’ve been doing I’ve gained a bit…. what do you reckon Sha?”

      — “You might have done a bit Glor,” said Sharon eyeing her friend thoughtfully, “you can carry a bit extra though, and it goes to all the right places on you, you look right sexy, I reckon our Harry would think so anyway”

      — “Oh give over Sha! “ Gloria blushed and giggled. “Anyway back to my brainwave … well that Vessie is quite slim … “

      — “A bit on the skinny side really, Glor, needs a bit of meat on them bones of ‘ers to be what you would call proper sexy like us, and very tall with it ain’t she.”

      — “Yes athletical, most of them island girls are I reckon. Anyway, listen up Sha, a few of my things ain’t been fitting so well and …and ‘ere’s my master plan Sha …Da da ….” she paused dramatically, “I thought I could hunt out something nice for Vessie!”

      — “Oh that’s bloody genius Glor! you’ve got a real kind heart you ‘ave! You’re a bloody saint even … did you ‘ave something special in mind?”

      — “Did I what Sha!” Gloria’s eyes were shining with delight at her own generosity. “You remember that pink frock, the one I wore when you and Harry got ‘itched, with the wee roses on it. Well I bought it with me! I thought you daft fool! when I packed it, what you taking that bloody thing for? … I reckon it was my psychic abilities I got ‘anded down from my Aunty Philly, God rest her soul, made me bring it.”

      — “Oh you’ve still got that frock! That were bloody gorgeous …. well bless your bloody heart Glor!”

      — “Well its got sentimentical value of course,” said Glor looking serious. Her voice lowered, “ Between you and me though Sha, I do feel for that poor girl. I mean she’s pretty enough .. but she’s got no bloody idea how to make the best of what she’s got. It’d be a bit on the short side mind …. but I don’t think she’d mind that, not if that last dress is anything to go by, and I’m right handy with the needle and thread if it needs any fixing” she paused for a moment thinking, “Sha! I think I’ve ‘ad another bloody brainwave! We could give her a full beauty makeover, the bloody works, with all our beauty know-how … that lippy she was wearing ..” her voice trailed off and she shook her head sadly.

      — “Wrong shade of red weren’t it,” Sharon nodded understandingly. “She’s going to have to make a bit more effort if she’s to keep that bloke of hers.”

      — “Well I’ll ‘ave him any day,” giggled Gloria

      — “Oh you’re bloody wicked, you are Glor! If your Joe could ‘ear you now! …. ‘ere you’ll ‘ave to fight me for ‘im though! … ere,” she said looking around and lowering her voice conspiratorily, “maybe we could have one of them threesomes!”

      — “Oh stop Sha, you’re too bloody much you are!” spluttered Gloria, barely able to control her mirth. “Serious now though Sha, that Vessie might be a bit overcome and shy like, with all our generousness and kindheartedness, we have to make sure she knows we ain’t taking NO for a bloody answer!”

      in reply to: Snooteries #2127
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        :yahoo_rofl:

        You guys are hilarious!

        ahem :yahoo_nerd:

        I mean wise and profound

        yours always, Anoonymoose

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #751

        Why you supercilious little prout! said the Mummy

        Steady on Sasha, I don’t think I deserve that. I am a great believer in personal choice. You chose to be part of my experiments didn’t you? Did anyone force you to come here? His voice started to raise petulently. Are you a victim Sasha? Just because one small thing went wrong, an accident, no more and no less.

        If it wasn’t for these damn bandages I would laugh.

        Dr Bronkelhampton threw his hands in the air in vexation. Try and see the big picture Sasha dear. How many times have I told you now? My God we have been through this over and over again. Are you listening Sasha? All you can think about is yourself and your own petty little life. You are dead, you need to accept this and move on.

        Silence.

        Sasha? … Talk to me Sasha dear one.

        Dr Bronkelhampton? Nurse Bellamy tapped lightly on the office door, and entered cautiously. She could hear Chris talking to himself, again. It was nothing new, he spent hours closeted in his office lately. Though today she started in shocked surprise when she saw him, the yellow wig from the early days of the clinic was perched precariously on top of his bald head, garish make-up roughly applied, yet not hiding the dark blue circles under his blood-shot eyes.

        He glared at her. Can you not see I am with a client, Nurse Bellamy?

        She cast her eyes reflexively around the small office, although she did not need to look. It was bare save for a pot plant and that dreadful mummy propped up in the corner of the room.

        I am worried about you, Chris.

        He slammed his fist on the desk and turned away from her, staring moodily out the window.

        Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened with emotion, she struggled to hold back her tears as all the anxiety of the last week threatened to overwhelm her. She reminded herself of the words of her dear nursing tutor Edwardo Lemenox. Always remember your calling as a nurse. When the road seems difficult, take a deep breath and remind yourself you are perfect.

        She took a deep breath.

        I am sorry, I mean Dr Bronkelhampton … I need to inform you that three new clients are expected tomorrow …. and we have two here waiting for their treatment to start … and I can’t entertain them for much longer, they are getting restless. Veranassessee is up to no good, and, Nurse Bellamy pursed her lips for a moment in annoyance .. and now she has a gentleman friend here.

        Dr Bronkelhampton turned towards her quickly, the wig falling off in the process, She has a gentleman friend? Here on the island? Who?

        Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened even more as she remembered her encounter with the drop-dead gorgeous stranger, the way he had looked into her eyes as he asked where he might find Veranassessee, goodness, she had nearly dropped her coconuts.

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #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.

          in reply to: Snooteries #2124
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Dear Elf So’nSo

            May I ask your qualifications? Do you speak funny like the Cutie Snootie?

            Can you help me be a better person?

            Thanks, look forward to your reply

            A. ANONYMOUS

            in reply to: Talks on the latest Instalments #1461
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            Participant

              Well I understand Vessie means bladder in French … so there’s a synch for you
              but Tracy, I don’t get the “Loo in Wee” …. I see “U A Cutey” .. in the middle?

              in reply to: Story Timeline and Map #2145
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                the spreadsheet is amazing Eric, very helpful as well.

                haha Jib!

                in reply to: Talks on the latest Instalments #1459
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  I am delighted with mine although not really sure how you would pronounce the surname: Lessien Lúinwë

                  in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #739

                  Vessie Darl, Sha and I are just popping down to the beach for some more of them special beauty sea waters you told us about.

                  Great idea, Gloria, responded Veranassessee vaguely. She watched absent-mindedly as Gloria’s generous body, clad only in a skimpy red bikini, disappeared down the corridor. There was something about that shade of red tugging at her memory. Vermillion red …

                  Red! PLAN B! Oh my God! how could she have forgotten!

                  It was two days since she had called him, that meant he would be here soon, that did not leave her much time to prepare.

                  :fleuron:

                  Everything has to be perfect. She wears a silk vermillion red camisole, the one he gave her, scarcely covered by lush black velvet and topped with bright red lipstick. She casts her eyes critically around the room. It is nearly three years since she has seen him, she doesn’t want to spoil this moment. The glasses of soft red merlot are ready, a plate of miniature liqueur chocolates on a plate by the bed.

                  She shakes out her long dark hair and looks in the mirror. Her chocolate skin glows, her eyes are bright. She will do. She touches the red silk camisole … it is still beyond her comprehension how she can have forgotten.

                  When he arrives he is beautiful. Too beautiful. she thinks. It is so easy for him, effortless. He appraises the room and laughs casually, he knows how hard she has tried. Agent V he says, a pleasure to see you again. He kisses her. She remembers everything.

                  He takes a sip of the wine. She watches him, unsure of herself. He has a black bag with him.

                  He looks at her, sees her looking at the bag, and smiles slowly, I have something to show you, Agent V, he says, and she can sense his pride, the barely suppressed excitement in his voice.

                  He opens the bag carefully, pulls out a small white box, handles it lovingly. Two years experimentation in the Russian lab, he says softly, delicate threads of spun blue bonnet spider silk and yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.

                  He looks at her. Come here. he says

                  She hesitates for just a moment thinking of Mahiliki, and then inwardly shrugs, bugger it, I never really wanted to live on Fukitupi island and have loads of babies anyway. She moves over to him. He takes the transparent silk and slowly starts to wind the delicate thread around her wrists. Try and break it, he whispers in her ear, kisses her neck.

                  Then stops.

                  My God, what the fuck is that?

                  Veranassessee sighs.

                  :fleuron:

                  No I swear Sha, I am telling you, I saw him go into Vessie’s room.

                  Oh my God Glor, he might be a murderer, or a bloody rapist even!

                  I tell you though, he were right bloody gorgeous.

                  Well never mind that! The door is locked Sha. I think we’d better shout out. Make sure she’s okay.

                  Right, good idea. And then if she doesn’t answer we can bash the door in and we can both pounce on him.

                  Right, on the count of three Glor, we’‘ll shout out, one… two… THREE!”

                  in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #738

                  Leonard stood up, stretched, and began to make strange movements with his body, much to the delight of Mouffle who leapt around him joyously barking.

                  Are you alright, Leonard? asked Franiel, a little concerned by Leonard’s gyrations. His voice sounded odd to his own ears, as though it came from a spot somewhere behind him. He was even unsure if he had spoken the words out loud.

                  Leonard chuckled, and Franiel joined in, though why he did so he was not sure.

                  I am very well indeed, thank you, Franiel. I am performing the motional practices of Ancient Kuzhebar aborigines. It is an excellent technique for straightening the mind. Perhaps you would like to join me?

                  Although I am sure my mind would benefit from straightening, perhaps I will just watch for now, said Franiel, feeling a persuasive tiredness sweep over his body. It must be the nectar, he mused. He lay back on the grassy verge, and though he tried his hardest, he found it impossible to keep his eyes open. I will close them just for a moment, he thought.

                  in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #737

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  Sure Ms Tattler, where is the clooh-box?

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

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

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

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

                  rainy wedding, merry marriage

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

                  in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #736
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    What’s that, slow down Felicity I can’t understand what you are saying!

                    Felicity took a deep breath. I am so sorry Tina, there has been a dreadful mix-up with the dresses. The dress that arrived for Becky was meant for another wedding.

                    Oh right, said Tina, well I was a little surprised when I saw it, but then, I have no idea what russian wedding dresses look like.

                    Oh yes I am so sorry, it is a terrible mix-up. Yes that dress was meant for a … well the bride was going to arrive in a huge wedding cake and then pop out the top . Oh Tina we worked weeks on it … and isn’t the dress just luscious! pure silk it is … and we had a ladder purpose built and the groom was going to climb up beside her and say their vows on top of the wedding cake on a revolving pedestal .. and somehow the dresses got mixed up … I am so sorry. Her voice trailed off.

                    Tina, making a valiant attempt to contain her laughter, tried to reassure the distraught Felicity … well I am not sure if Becky even have noticed her dress, she was quite preoccupied with applying peachy glow mineral cosmetics when I last saw her. She has some unfortunate splotches on her face, an allergy to red fruit I think.

                    Oh that poor sweetheart, gushed Felicity sympathetically. Oh I wish I could give her a big hug! She is such a sensitive one, I didn’t want to bother her, that’s why I am ringing you Tina. You are always so calm and sensible. What shall we do?

                    Well to tell you the truth Felicity, I have been trying to contact Becky for the last hour, I can’t get through to her number.

                    in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #716
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Tina and Becky hooted with laughter over the wedding images

                      oh great wedding, not that I remember any of it, but thank god it is over! gasped Becky when she had stopped laughing.

                      Good grief! is that Sean? asked Tina.

                      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #714
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        oh fuck, I am sorry Becky, I don’t know if I will be able to be head witness at your wedding, said Tina weakly a few minutes later, I feel terrible! Did you just bear hug me by the way? It is hard to tell over the phone, but I thought I felt a blast of your energy.

                        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #712
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          oh that’s a fantastic idea Becky! encouraged Tina, when Becky suggested tentatively that perhaps she could try advanced visualisation techniques in order 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 peach. After all, you have nothing to lose Becky-pooh.

                          in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #710

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

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

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

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

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

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

                          in reply to: Snooteries #2112
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            :yahoo_rofl:

                            AHEM ……..

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

                            Thank you.

                            Yes …… :face-plain:

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

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

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

                            in reply to: Snooteries #2107
                            F LoveF Love
                            Participant

                              Dear Snoot

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

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

                              Looking forward excitedly in anticipation of your response

                              bemused and perplexed,
                              Anonymous

                            Viewing 20 replies - 681 through 700 (of 909 total)

                            Daily Random Quote

                            • Hilda regretted her decision to fly to the British Isles, now that she was caught up in all the Fuxit brouhaha. The mysterious plague doctor in Chester had turned out to be nothing more than a common madman, looking for a party to crash. The Mexican band with a wheelbarrow full of bricks welcoming the orange toupee’d ... · ID #4062 (continued)
                              (next in 05h 26min…)

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