Tracy

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  • in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #455

    Mavis was having trouble with her keyboard. I wonder if it’s dust? she thought. Oh maybe it needs batteries!

    She wanted to reply to the mysterious email.

    Bugger! said Mavis, Now I really will have to go out in thain….arrghh, she exclaimed, the RAIN….bugger the damn keyboard….

    in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #454

    As the plane approached the landing strip on the small Pacific island, Gloria and Sharon looked at each other and smiled. What an adventure! They had both received an email from a mysterious Dr Bronklehampton, offering them an experience they just couldn’t refuse. Neither Gloria or Sharon knew why they’d opened the spam email, or why they had felt compelled to accept the unusual offer.

    in reply to: Rafaela’s Random Ramblings #1867
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Some Irish giants such as Fionn mac Cumhaill (Finn McCool) were considered benevolent and well liked by humans.

      :yahoo_good_luck: :cluebox:

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #450
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Al must have had insomnia, thought Becky, as she reviewed the Reality Play Updates in her emailbox. I wonder what he was doing up at 5:00am? Becky had done nothing but sleep for days. She had woken up in the night a few times, once dreaming of Roswell, and once of Galicia. Hhhmm, she wondered, I don’t know why, and boy do I wish I had better dream recall!

        in reply to: Synchronicity #1585
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          I just love the image of all the broken plates and water stuff! What fun! I nearly choked to death once at a party, and nobody thought it was as serious as I knew it was. I was trying to demonstrate the Heimlich manouvre whilst dying; nobody knew what to do. Actually I think I have hundreds of dead probable selves!

          Points Jib for following your intuition and bugger the plates!

          in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #448
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Lucius was quite franky exhausted. Building roads, always building roads….endlessly long boringly straight ones. He was fed up with it; the only thing that kept him going was his imagination. If he let his mind wander, he hardly felt his aching back. He didn’t think of Rome, Rome, nothing but Rome, like so many of his compatriots, he thought of other times and places, and imagined what they were like.

            He imagined who had walked this valley before him, and who might walk it after him. He imagined a girl in a swing hung from a fig tree, twirling round and round, and wondered who she was. The image came with a feeling, a feeling of anticipation and excitement, full of enthusiasm and delight. Lucius began to feel a little disorientated, so strong and clear was the image, and wondered why a fig tree was growing right in the middle of the road he was building. He opened his mouth to shout No! We can’t build the road here, this is where the girl swings!….and shut it again quickly. It was getting harder and harder to stay focused on the present and not say anything strange out loud. He looked around furtively, but nobody had noticed.

            Phew! he said, or the Roman equivalent of Phew, and buckled down to the task of building the road.

            in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #447

            Young Becky looked at the clock: 2:22. Dan would be back from the airport soon, with Dory. Impatiently, Becky looked at the clock again: 2:23. She went outside into the warm winter sunshine and sat on the swing under the fig tree, and trotted round in a circle, twisting the ropes above her and squinting up through the bare branches at the blue sky and puffy white clouds. When the ropes would twist no more Becky tucked her feet under her, and spun giddily round; the overladen lemon tree, the plum tree, the orange tree, the olive tree and the nispero tree merging into one magical 360 degree kaleidoscope of colours whizzing past.

            in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #444
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Dory woke up on the plane with a start. She’d had the strangest dreams, of crowds of people. So many people in her dreams! Mob crowds, lots of mob crowds, and then busy working crowds of people bustling around working on something, some ground plan. Then there was the train lines right next to the sea, and thinking, saying to someone, We have to wait for them at home, it’s on higher ground, and upon seeing how close the train lines were to the sea, saying Oh they will never reach us if that’s the way they’re coming, because the big waves were coming again, and would swallow up the train. In the big wooden house on the hill there was Dan, unwell, mentally unwell, from taking those pills the night before without Dory’s knowledge. Dan’s sister told Dory in the dream, He’s staying here with us, and then Dory lunged at her, clawing at her face. As she left the house, she turned to Dan’s sister and said You realize that I do love you (even though she often hated her). Then there was the tall black man, who was he?
              Dory called to a stewardess for coffee and wished desperately for a cigarette. The man with the eyes that winked at her, who was he? Before she fell asleep, his face popped into her head, and zoomed into crystal clarity, and his eyes blinked or winked at her in mutual recognition. He looked familiar but still she couldn’t place him….dark and swarthy, with peircing eyes….

              in reply to: Rafaela’s Random Ramblings #1866
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Salitre: the Roman city there was called Vesci :cluebox: :notepad: :magnify:

                in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1411
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Time gentlemen PLEASE! Last orders! :yahoo_bring_it_on: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_waiting:shouted the grumpy old cow behind the bar.

                  :yahoo_crying: :mummy: :mummy: :yahoo_not_talking: :mummy: :yahoo_not_listening: :mummy: :yahoo_heehee: :mummy: :yahoo_laughing: :mummy: :yahoo_whistling:

                  But the busload of Italian mummy’s had no intention of leaving,
                  and they certainly hadn’t finished drinking, so they disappeared the pub landlady in a puff of rose scented :mummy: :yahoo_rose: :weather-overcast:mummy fart.

                  in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #442

                  :mummy: :world: :mummy: :world: :mummy: :world: :mummy: :world: :mummy: :world: :mummy: :world: :mummy:

                  in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1408
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    :mummy: ok last mummy just walked in:yahoo_rofl:

                    in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1407
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Breast feeding sync! In yesterdays paper was a big article about a woman who breast feeds her 7 year old ….weird mummy! :mummy:

                      in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1406
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        I just ADORE the mummy icon!:mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :games:

                        OMG a whole busload of Italian mummys just came in wanting to play poker…..

                        in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1405
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          :mummy: :yahoo_idk:

                          in reply to: Synchronicity #1579
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            well F, how about a rose for maligned Tracy mistaken for a turkey? :yahoo_angry:

                            in reply to: Synchronicity #1578
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              haahahah!!! Well I have a silly Deep Purple sync too, I used to know Glenn Hughes, before he was in DP he was in a band called Trapeze, managed by my cousins Irene’s husband, Tony Perry

                              http://www.ghpg.net/archives/trapeze/

                              their daughter is the (famous in motorbike circles) Suzy Perry:

                              http://www.suziperry.com/

                              (don’t know how to do those fancy links yet)

                              Another silly sync today, my vet Manolo is connected to the Pileta cave…the owner of the cave is his ex wifes cousin :yahoo_tongue:

                              :yahoo_rose: A rose for everyone maligned or not

                              (well, that was a handy reminder to email my cousin haha…you just never know where the next clue will come from, hey….)

                              in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1402
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Me too! I’ll have a guinness :):yahoo_peace_sign:

                                in reply to: Synchronicity #1576
                                TracyTracy
                                Participant

                                  Orange sync! My neighbour just gave a me a box of oranges! :yahoo_pumpkin: :weather-clear:

                                  in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1399
                                  TracyTracy
                                  Participant

                                    How does this work Jib? :yahoo_confused: :notepad: :help:

                                  Viewing 20 replies - 1,981 through 2,000 (of 2,193 total)