Writers

mm-hmm, let me give this a whirl!

5. If you don't get yourself out of my face this minute, I don't bloody care, I will run you down!

Once again this isn't a competition therefore no prizes - just have some fun with a few words.

So the challenge is:

"You must write five short expressions of the most adamant anger"

Here are a few examples:

1. If this computer crashes just one more time I'm going to throw it out of the window!

5. I am not going to move until you give me a complete refund!

Have fun and vent your anger on paper - that way nobody gets hurt!!!

This is part of the script i'm working on. it's about two very different men sharing a flat. Jimmy Shoe loves sc fi, and Jed Exodus plays drums in a thrash metal band.

FADE IN

PRE TITLE SEQUENCE . A CASH MACHINE IN A HIGH STREET. EXT.DAY

WE SEE JIMMY APPROACH. HE HAS A FLAT PARCEL IN BROWN PAPER UNDR#ER HIS ARM. HE STOPS BY THE MACHINE AND INSERTS HIS CARD AND KEYS IN HIS 4 DIGIT NUMBER. HE PRESSES SEVERAL KEYS. THE SCREEN READS ‘INSOFICIANT FUNDS’.

JIMMY:
Bollocks. Damn you e bay with you’re tempting wares. Damn your Signed Leonard Nimoy single and handkerchief with Alison Hannigans’s sweat on it. All those years of taunts in school were right, you are a looser Jimmy Shoe!

HE PULLS OUT HIS CARD, TURNS AND HEADS DOWN THE STREET AWAY FROM CAMERA VIEW. AS HE WALKS HE TRIPS ON SOMETHING AND STUMBLES. HE LOOKS DOWN BUT NOTHING IS THERE. HE LOOKS AROUND TO CHECK THAT NOBODY SAW, THEN DOES A JOHN TRAVOLTA, SATURDAY NIGHT FEEVER TYPE SWAGGER AS HE WALKS. HE STEPS INTO THE ROAD TO CROSS AND IS ALMOST HIT BY A CYCLIST. THE CYCLIST GESTURES AT HIM AS HE SWERVES TO MISS HIM. JIMMY CONTINUES ON HIS WAY. A SMALL DOG ON A LEAD YAPS AT JIMMY’S FEET. JIMMY CROUCHES TO PAT IT AND IT CURLS IT’S LIP AND SNARLS. HE GOES ON HIS WAY. HE PASSES A GANG OF SCHOOL KIDS WHO ARE SMOKING. WE SEE HIM APPROACH THEM, WE CAN SEE HE IS ‘REPRIMANDING THEM’ . THEY ALL TURN TO FACE HIM, HE SMILES NERVOUSLY AND TURNS TO RUN. WE SEE HIM COME RUNNING AROUND A CORNER WITH THE GANG CLOSE BEHIND. JIMMY HIDES BEHIND TWO OLD WOMEN IN A BUS SHELTER. THEY WAVE THEIR WALKING STICKS AT THE GANG AND THEY RUN AWAY.

CUT TO
THE BUS. DAY

WEE SEE JIMMY SITTTING ON THE BACK SEAT OF THE BUS. THE TWO ELDERLY WOMEN ON EITHER SIDE OF HIM. THROUGH THE WINDOW WE SEE THE GANG. JIMMY STICKS OUT HIS TONGUE AT THEM AS THE BUS PULLS AWAY.

OPENING TITLES

FADE IN

SC.1. A SUBURBAN SEMI . EXT. DAY
CUT TO
SC.2. THE LIVING ROOM . INT. DAY.

JED EXODUS SITS READING A MAGAZINE. ON THE WALL THERE ARE POSTERS DEPICTING VARIOUS SCI FI CHARACTERS. A SHELF CONTAINS SCI FI DVD’S.

JED:
How sad would you need to be to put an add in a lonely hearts? (he reads) Blonde girl, GSOH….what the hell is GSOH? (he thinks) Great Set Of Hooters. (he holds his hands in front of his chest to suggest large breasts) Sounds like my type of girl, and I could never deny anybody a piece of the Jedser. It’s something all women should experience, one of the 7 wonders of he world along side The hanging towers of Babylis and the leaning Gardens of pizza hut. (Sighs) I’m talking to my self again, I’m spending too much time with Jimmy.

AS IF ON CUE JIMMY ENTERS LOOKING FLUSTERED. HE SLIPS OFF HIS COAT AND WE SEE HIS T SHIRT HAS THE SLOGAN, ‘I’VE BEEN TO GALIFRAY.’ JED LOOKS UP FROM HIS PAPER.

JED:
What’s up Dude?
JIMMY:
The bank has charged me for going overdrawn again.
JED:
(Sarcastically) Over zealous bastards.

JIMMY TAKES OUT A BANK STATEMENT. HE SCREWS UP AND TOSSES IT TOWARDS A WASTE BIN. IT MISSES.

JED:
You can’t just chuck it away jimmy. What about your bank details? What if someone steals your identity?
JIMMY:
Steal my identity? My life is so shit even I don’t want it.
JED:
Have you reported you‘re stolen credit card yet?
JIMMY:
I decided not to bother. Whoever stole it spends less than me. (Sighs) what did I ever do to deserve my life?
JED:
I hope you don’t plan to do the old ‘ Humbug’ thing again Jimmy. It isn’t even Christmas.
JIMMY:
Why not? I think I’ve got my ‘Humbug’to perfection.

HE MIMICKS ‘SCROOGE’

JIMMY:
Christmas, bah humbug. Back to work. Bah. Humbug. Scrooge is my all time favorite super hero; forget Banana man, Michelin man and Manfred man. Anyone who can be that malicious without even making an effort is tops with me. (Sighs) I always loathed Christmas you know, even as a kid. I just don’t get it. What is the connection with Christmas and sprouts anyway? That’s the only time anybody eats the evil little green noxious bastards. And a tree with tinsel and crappy plastic balls on it. What has all that got to do with the birth of Judas priest?
JED:
Jesus Christ Jimmy.
JIMMY:
What? What have I done now?
JED:
The birth of Jesus. Judas Priest is that actor, the one that was in that film about a sky Captain, and it was in the world of tomorrow. I don’t know the name of the film… Anyway, you must have liked Christmas as a kid Jim. All kids like Christmas. Your parents must have bought you presents.
JIMMY:
Oh Yes. I’ll tell you about my presents shall I? One year I recall, I woke Christmas morning and there at the foot of my bed was a stocking, well, I call it a stocking, but lets call a spade a spade shall we, it was one of my Grandmas surgical stockings, they didn’t even wash it first and she had athletes foot. In the bottom of said stocking was one parcel, so I rip it open, and I’m hoping to find the Luke Skywalker action figure that I’d been asking for since, well, since forever really.. Do you know what I found when I ripped it open? I’ll tell you shall I? A Blow up doll, a sex doll, like the ones that sad pervy old men use when they can’t get a woman, ’Rubber Roz’. What sort of present is that for a twelve year old? Then you wonder why I’m so messed up.
JED:
God I would have loved for my parents to buy me a sex doll when I was twelve. I asked my parents for a sex doll and they refused point blank. The closest I ever came was sticking a picture of Debbie Gibson’s face onto a pillow and a hole in my mattress just wide enough to fit a smarty tube in. only problem was you had to wait for things to deflate before you could get out of it, and it could get kinda messy. (He looks sheepish) that goes no further than this room. Have you still got the doll? Those things cost a fortune (pause) I imagine.
JIMMY:
No I don’t still have it. She was a tart, cheated on me with Raymond Walloon.
JED:
Who the Hell is Raymond Walloon?
JIMMY:
He was my imaginary friend. He was cool, pull girls like that. (Snaps fingers). Bastard stole all my girlfriends.
JED:
He was your imaginary friend. Why did you not imagine him less cool?
JIMMY:
What and have people think my best mate was a geek? No way, having a cool mate was good for my street cred.
JED:
So what happened to Rozz?
JIMMY:
I killed the bitch. Killed her stone dead.

JIMMY MIMICS PUNHING SOMEBODY

JIMMY:
I buried her in a shallow grave; I would have gotten away with it too if not for being reported by those pesky kids.
JED:
You were a pesky kid
JIMMY:
I was never pesky. Irksome, wearisome perhaps, but I was never pesky.

JED TRIES TO LIGHTEN THE MOOD

JED:
You always accept presents from people at Christmas.
JIMMY:
Presents? What, hand knitted jumpers and cheap aftershave.
JED:
I got you a book last year.
JIMMY:
‘Develop you’re prospects in life.’ That wasn’t a present, it was a hint.
JED:
And I got you that DVD.
JIMMY:
Again, ‘Be a better human being- twenty ways to grow in maturity.’
JED:
What’s the parcel?
JIMMY:
Nothing.
JED:
I thought you were skint. What have you been buying now?
JIMMY:
Nothing.
JED:
You haven’t been to the bloody sci-fi store again have you? Not more Doctor who stuff?
JIMMY:
It’s not Doctor who stuff.
JED:
Show me then.
JIMMY:
No
JED:
Oh come on. Lets see.
JIMMY:
No

JIMMY HOLDS THE PARCEL BEHIND HIS BACK. JED GETS UP AND WRESTLES IT FROM HIM. HE RIPS THE PACKAGE OPEN AND PULLS OUT A MIRROR IN THE SHAPE OF THE TARDIS. JED CHUCKLES. JIMMY SNATCHES THE MIRROR BACK, IT SLIPS OUT OF HIS HAND, HITS THE COFFEE TABLE AND SMASHES.

JIMMY:
Look what you’ve gone and done now. That’s seven years bad luck that is. Do I look like the sort of man who can afford seven years bad luck? Why would you grab at my arm like that, if you want to grab at people at least give them some warning first.
JED:
Sorry Dude. Oh, and before I forget. , get your glad rags out of deep freeze, there’s partying afoot. Biff Bash is coming home.
JIMMY:
And so it begins, seven years bad luck, though, Biff may kill me and save me all the suffering. No, I can’t be that lucky.
JED:
Last I heard Biff was living in Barbados, all the top stars are his friends.
JIMMY:
Oh yea, Chuck Norris, Jean Claude Van Damn, Steven Segal, Brigit Nielson, Chico, the cream of Hollywood.
JED:
Why are you so worried anyway about Biff coming home anyway?
JIMMY:
You know why. That incident with the porch.
JED:
Oh I forgot about that. How could you have been so stupid? All you had to do was paint his porch. How difficult could that be? Even for you.
JIMMY:
I swear he asked me to paint his Porsche.
JED:
But it wasn’t even a Porsche Jim, it was a Ferrari. A classic, only three in the world. I wouldn’t worry though, It’ll be water under the bridge. Biff won’t have held a grudge all this time.
JIMMY:
You want to bet? You know he did that song, ’Wooden casket’, well you know the line, ‘The next time I see your face you’ll be in a wooden casket, and that’s a date.’ If you read the footnote on the record sleeve you’ll see it’s dedicated to me as was the song, ’Jimmy Shoe I’m going to kill you’,

If you could count all the people who have lived upon the Earth since man began. Add to them all the people who are currently alive on the Earth today. Hazard a guess at how many people are yet to come and add these. Now you have an unbelievable number of souls. Think now. When the Great Creator made you he was well satisfied and decided to never make another like you. There has never been, is not now and never will be another person like you. You are unique, you are so special in the eyes of the Creator. If this is so, why should you put yourself down or let others do so? If you are so very special you should never settle for second best. The world belongs to you, go out and get it.

Blessings
SpiritBird

It has long been said that, when you wish upon a star, the chances are that your wish will come true. I look up into the far distant blue-black velvet of the night sky, and there amid the myriad of sister stars, one star shines brighter than all the others. Could this be the wishing star: the legendary answer to so many unachieved dreams?
I focus my attention on this one pulsating light,and gathering all the faith I can muster, like generations before I make my wish. I wish that the sorrows, heartaches and frustrations that surround those who are dear to me, be bathed in the warmth of kindness, brightened by the sunlight of love that is offered by those they meet, and that we may soon join together in a happier and more understanding world were we may live in peace with one another.

Blessings
SpiritBird

Climbing those steps, over and over...vast pools of emerald water, delicate ripples and spaces in the walls. Coolness penetrating the humid heat; I searched some more.
Stretching runways and disappearing planes, consumed by flames...again.
Searching for peace and space and green trees...no money, empty purse.
I could not remember the number, the code.
I saw her face and smiled.
She asked me and I wondered.
The car...infront of the old house.
Parents, fear, loathing, fear.
Watching from the window, I could not move...still fearful of those who loved me.
No escape.
Now, no escape.
Giant birds disintegrating in the blue skies with orange flames.
More cars outside the house.
Men and loud voices frighten me.
Entrapment.
Ensnared.
Silently screaming for love.

Don't you just hate it when you write yourself into a corner? Nearly two years and I still have no idea what to do. I should actually say what I've done...

I've been trying to write a high fantasy story and I think I've got carried away as at this point, the story can follow one of three characters.

One has got herself deep in the forest with an evil horse for company, one a magician who has just buggered off to his room and an elder character is contemplating how to test a young acolyte to see if he can do something that might help... something.

I write blind you see, just start typing and let the imagination go nuts, just get them down on paper, worry about making bridges to make sense of it all after the bulk is done.

Doesn't help it that I'm still stuck. Argh, it's so frustrating!

Do you do anything to help when you're stuck? Any unusual techniques of some sort? I need a bolt of lightning to jar this block of mine!

Okay, here’s the top three things I use the internet for – 1) checking out porn, 2) as a research tool for when I’m writing and 3) surfing the net for completely pointless yet oddly entertaining websites. Today I’m going to kill two birds with one stone. Yes I’m going to combine nos. 2 and 3 by writing about a few of the strange websites I’ve come across over the years. Hell, I may manage a hat trick by the end of the day and reward myself with some no. 1 if I get this article written in enough time.

I don’t know why these websites exist, but damn am I glad they do. They’re the perfect time killers, especially on a day like today when it’s raining outside, there’s nothing good on TV, and you just can’t be bothered working on the manuscript for that novel that’s been sitting quietly in your hard-drive for the past year, like a pile of dried up dog shit in the corner of the room that nobody wants to clean up. I’ve avoided the obvious ones like YouTube , ebay, Facebook, Bebo, MySpace…ect., and stuck with lesser known ones. Quite a few of these websites look as if they’re made on a limited budget and created and hosted from a bedroom by just one lone dork with a deep passion for ironic cultural references; and to me that’s what the internet is all about.

www.MenWhoLookLikeKennyRogers.com

When I turned 30, I made a promise to myself that within another 30 year’s time, I would bear a passing resemblance to Jerry Garcia and it’s a promise I intend to keep, despite my wife’s aversion to facial hair –who needs a sex life when you can grow a big, fluffy beard instead? Deep down inside, however, the celebrity that I would really most like to resemble is uber-awesome country star, Kenny Rogers. After all isn’t Jerry Garcia just a Kenny with glasses and a lot less maintenance?

Kenny Rogers is arguably the coolest country western singer on the planet. Admittedly that’s not saying much since there’s only maybe about five people from the entire country western genre that could actually qualify as being cool, and three of them are dead.

Sure, the Gambler’s got a fantastic singing voice – nice and silky without the much of that obnoxious good ol’ boy twang that so many country singers have these days. It’s middle of the road: manly but not macho, sensitive but without making him sound like a total pussy (y’hearin’ me, Aaron Neville?) He has a voice that’s ideal for crossing over into the pop charts – which he’s done, many times over. Yes, Kenny Rogers is the perfect entertainer for the mostly middle aged suburbanites that can’t handle today’s rock music, but aren’t quite redneck enough for country. Okay, so maybe Kenny isn’t really that cool after all.

But what puts Kenny on the cool list is his immaculate silver mane and perfectly trimmed beard. It’s a look that every white American male over the age of 50 aspires to, yet so few achieve. I’ll never forget my father calling me at 3 a.m. a few years ago, this once proud and strong man now a broken wreck, crying as he confessed to me over the phone that he would never be able to achieve the look of Kenny because his beard was just too patchy. Most men, once they hit their late 30’s or early 40’s are prone to male-pattern baldness and a middle-age spread brought on by years of donuts, beer and office work, will never come close to achieving the dream Therefore we must honour those who have and that’s what MWLLKR is all about.

The website is just that – a celebration of all those brave men who have committed themselves to the ‘Kenny’ look and have succeeded (albeit to varying degrees.) The bulk of the site is a gallery with page after page of photos of Kenny look-alikes from around the world. That there are so many shouldn’t come as a surprise, because who doesn’t want to look like Kenny? As the website proves, even other celebrities yearn to look like Kenny (including the late Who bassist John Entwhistle, Earnest Hemingway, Gen. Robert E. Lee, Papa Smurf and God.)

If you’re having trouble finding a ‘Kenny’ the site has a list of places where you’re most likely to find them – try state fairs, airports, Waffle House, Boot World, pawn shops, and A.A. meetings. And for those of you who are thinking about taking up the ‘Kenny’ look, there’s a section that offers helpful tips on how to achieve that iconic style – “grow hair longer than is currently fashionable, if it’s not white or grey, seek a professional stylist for colouring, or baby powder will do in a pinch.”

Oddly enough there are some people out there who aren’t into Kenny Rogers. Not everyone thinks a white beard and feathered mullet is a good look to have; and there are some who just don’t care for his music either. But the one thing you can’t deny is that the man can cook a mean bird. Yep, I’m talkin’ bout the rotisserie chicken from world famous Kenny Roger’s Roasters. Back in the day, this restaurant chain was so awesome, it even inspired an episode of Seinfeld. And if that doesn’t put Kenny on your cool list, then…well, then you’ve got some serious mental problems, my friend. Sadly, these restaurants are all but gone, having been brought out by Nathan’s, the hotdog chain in 1999 and subsequently restructured. But you can still get those tasty corn muffins that came as a side on every meal thanks to the recipe posted on MWLLKR.

The only problem I have with this site is that it appears to have been abandoned. The last winner of the ‘Kenny of the Month’ was in May of 2005. The site may be a one-trick pony, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be updated once in awhile. After all, there are still so many Kenny’s out there and their story needs to be told.
********

www.maddox.xmission.com (a.k.a. The Best Page In The Universe)
If you think cynical, sardonic assholes are just the wittiest thing ever, then boy are you in luck!
This is basically just one huge blog: the author, some dude who calls himself Maddox, bitching and ranting about everything under the sun from the iPhone to people who use puns. What sets him apart from the countless other bloggers on the internet is that well, for starters, he’s actually pretty well informed, unlike say, your Uncle Bob from Missouri who simply parrots whatever he’s heard from Rush Limbaugh or Fox News. Not only that, he’s actually funny. For example, here’s his take on Dave Matthews Band:
‘Dave Matthews fans are like the trans-fats of fandom: oversaturated with obnoxiousness, found everywhere, and impossible to get rid of; for example, they only refer to the band as DMB... you can't abbreviate the word 'band' assholes, it's a band by virtue of the fact that there is more than 1 person in it, and for the record, adding the word 'band' to your name doesn't make you any less of an egotistical shit head). Man, you know what I hate? Dave Matthews.
‘It's the whitest band ever, which is saying something considering 3 of the members are black, and Dave Matthews is literally an African American (born in South Africa). His music can be heard in Whole Foods stores, Live Earth concerts, or blasting from the speakers of open-topped Jeeps parked on curbs everywhere. The typical fan is either some dude wearing khaki cargo shorts replete with dangling rock climbing hooks, even though he doesn't hike because he can't afford to drive his gas-guzzling Jeep, or some chick with huge boobs, buck teeth, and an ankle-length floral skirt that she twirls around like an idiot because she thinks her awesome boobs give her enough social capital to make up for the buck teeth and hairy toes (they don't): ‘
Okay, I’ll admit, I’m a bit bias because I happen to agree with him – I too, can’t stand Dave Matthews Band or its annoying fan base. They’re the type of people who will vote for Obama in the general election, without even knowing anything about his policies or his stance on the issues, solely out of political correctness – but that’s some funny shit going on.
Aside from one or two columns about George Bush, Maddox, perhaps wisely, avoids talking politics and religion, and instead concentrates on taking pot shots at everyday annoyance – such as formulaic Hollywood block busters, advertising, Ben Stiller and people in general. Another favourite target is children. Check out ‘More Crappy Children’s Artwork’ for his reviews of kiddies’ refrigerator scrawls:
‘Ding Ding! Here comes the shit-mobile. I've never seen a fire truck that needed to be shaved. I would rather be burned to death than be saved by this hairy piece of shit. F’ He writes of 8-year-old Jon’s drawing of a fire truck.
It’s a bit odd. I could look at this website all day (and I often do), but if I had to hang around someone this negative and bitchy in person, I’d probably end up hanging myself. On one hand you’re laughing your ass off at Maddox’s scathing commentary, but on the other hand you want to tell the guy to lighten up a little, maybe even toss him a fifty or something so he could go downtown and treat himself to a piece of ass or something…anything to get him to chill out a little bit.
The Best Page in The Universe recently celebrated its 10 year anniversary. The website and its creator have achieved a sort of cult status over the years, spawning t-shirts, a comic book, a radio show and a best-selling book ‘The Alphabet of Manliness.’ Maddox created an industry out of one cheap-ass looking website, and he’s done this all by word of mouth. Most importantly however, he’s got a mention in Wikipedia. If that’s not impressive, then I don’t know what is.
The danger of achieving this sort of cult status is that we now have a shit load of imitators online. As blogs become increasingly prevalent, more people are offering their ignorant, unasked opinions on such stupid topics as ‘my boss sucks,’ ‘here’s a photo of my pet cat wearing a tiny fireman’s outfit, doesn’t he look silly?’ and ‘no, I mean it, my boss REALLY sucks. In fact, I hate him so much I’m going to sneak into his office one night and take a shit in the middle of his desk.’ And before you say anything –yes, I’m aware of the irony.
The only other problem with this site is its infrequent updates. For example, the most recent post ‘Nobody Cares if Your Puns were Intended’ is dated May 31; the post before that ‘Vague Genre Movie (April Fool’s 08)’ was updated on April 1. Okay, so your thinking its updated sort of semi-monthly. But the post after that ‘Fashion Tips for Women from a Guy Who Knows Dick About Fashion’ has a post date of October 29, 2007! And the one before that is in July! WTF?!!? I read somewhere that Maddox recently gave up his day job for this, so what the fuck’s he been doing? I can appreciate that this has been a one-man operation but still, when your output is less than what it was when you had a full time job, you’ve got something to answer for. My fear is that he’s getting tired of doing this shit and his output will eventually peter out, so that like the MWLLKR website we’ll be left with nothing but 5-year old posts about why the Dave Matthews Band is so lame.

************
www.stuffwhitepeoplelike.com
I first heard about this website in an article from a magazine I was reading ( I think it might have been in an issue of ‘Shortlist,’ but I can’t be certain.) It intrigued my sense of curiosity towards dumbness enough to have a looksey. And, yup, it’s plenty dumb alright.

The site is built around the premise that white people (W.A.S.P.S. in particular) are lame and therefore like lame stuff. It’s comprised of a list of over 100 topics of interest to white people such as 76.) bottles of water, 36.)breakfast places, 16.) gifted children and 1.) coffee. Click on a topic and you’re taken to an explanation as to why said topic appeals to white people as well as posts from idiots who feel the need to point out that just because they’re white doesn’t make them lame – and they’re one, token black friend will vouch for them.

Implied accusations of racism aside; this website is just really stupid. Worse still, it’s not even funny. I might identify with some of the references linked to my suburban upbringing in the American Midwest, but I also identify with some of the references in Jeff Foxworthy’s ‘You Might Be a Redneck If…’ routine, and that’s a helluva lot funnier. In fact the funniest thing about this website is its title.

If this review has proved one thing, it’s that I’ve obviously I’ve got too much time on my hands. Those are just a few of the websites that you can check out. The Internet is loaded with goofy little numbers like these, so feel free to look around and if you’ve a goofy website that you’d like me to know about, send me an email. As for me, I’ve got a little free time left, so it’s time for a little bit of No. 1.

Happy surfing everybody.

-B.H. 22/06/08

The cares of the day passed quietly away, as the day became twilight and the twilight became night.  But not before the sun, having traversed the sky, finally burst through in one last moment of glory, to form an oasis of orange in a desert of grey cloud, occasionally tinging the outline with a soft pink light, then it was gone.  The grey turned to purple and the purple to black, as the mantle of night decended over all.With the darkness came the stars, each like a jewel mounted in a clasp of black velvet.  And the stars were like people, some were so small that only when they crowded together could they be seen.  Others formed groups of six or more and were more easily noticed.  Then came the superstars, alone and yet so big and bright that they could not be missed.
Although each star in its way was alone, it was only when they all came out of the darkness together that we could look up and have the joy of seeing heaven.
SpiritBird

The time has come for all good men to slap and tickle the wife while holding a chicken by the balls of steel that surround the earth and give weakness to the strength in numbers of a lottery for our disadvantaged children of fate and doom who need a hand up not a handout from the leaders not the losers and the readers not the choosers of our fate and time to get down with James Brown and time to get up with Mickey Schtupp and never chew a pickle with a bit of slap and tickle the ivories of an extinct elephant bone the needle spike tribe ride the snake and make a mess of potage while the sun shines on me and you and daisy too and me and thee and my old brown knee.

Two pink elephants adorn the porn of scorn and when the time comes for the ink of time to wash the laundry of existence then there will be no room for the darkness of iniquity in the washing machine of eternity and those who wallow in the loss of sorrow and the hallow of shallow shall leach the life from those who strive to live and die in a way that is in harmony with nature and life and living and the time is nigh for the tie round the neck of hell to loosen and unleash a bitter slosh of rage onto the timelessness of the unwritten page of time on which each must plough their furrow of burrow.

----------

I typed the above straight into my word processor without pause, typing continuously and trying not to think, just to keep the stream of words coming. I went back afterwards and fixed typos and spelling mistakes, but didn't change any of the words at all. What you see is the horrific outpouring of about 3 minutes of my mind.

Give it a try - it will only take you a couple of minutes and you might be surprised at what your mind produces. All you have to do is type whatever is formost in your mind, and keep typing without pause, and whatever you do don't edit!

Cheers, Tom.

I have just joined blog.co.uk & this writers' group.

I look forward to chatting in the coming days and months.

Just a shameless plug for my book, 'Seeking the Green' which has been published by Capall Bann... it's been a bit frantic getting it ready in time for the Witchfest Wales on Saturday apparently, but I had a phone call this morning and it's now all done!

I'm so excited!

I’m sure that the other members of this group will agree that everyone is more than welcome here. This isn’t an exclusive club.

And it's been three and a half months now.

Does that mean it went in the shredder?

Its sunny this Sunday morning. I'm not snoring now! Top, bottoms & flipflops on, unlock door and off I go.

I stroll along footpaths and roads; coast in front, I watch surf crashing on rocks. I sun my skin. Wind in my hair, kids laugh and play, mums & dads watch, smiling. Calm and happy. Hours pass, I'm so hot and thirsty.

looking up, what?! not black clouds? big fat drops. RAIN! Run to my flat, and back to zzzzz.

All this without using any cash.

What a fabulous day for Happy.

x

Frolicking through woods and hollows, fairy folk find fabulous fun. Twisting and turning upon wispy wings, to lift and fall as snow. Looking down on mortal folk with total disdain, for nay flights of tiny things aloft oft go unknown.
Child born of fairy stock nay doth want for owt, wings full of gold dust and raindrops to wash and drink.

Currently on the SciFi Group Blog we are attempting to write an episode of Doctor Who. The plot basics have been set, but as writers we can add twists and cliff hangers which the next writer can lead off from. I am finding this a really interesting way to write and wonder if anybody else has tried it?

Fairy Folk

All in all a truly magical night that would spill into morning and at dawn owl would sound a hoot to say that it should finish.

Please join the in the fun of this challenge and write (and post) a story yourself

Wasted talent on polluted shores,
My world is grey, no other colours exist,
Boys turn to crime, girls to whores
Windows shattered by my bloody fist.

My child is not mine because he cries so much,
Take it like a man you cowardly fool.
His skin so cold to touch,
His tears but a tool.

The summer months pass with dark skies,
Rain falls everyday, the same,
The sun comes, hiding the lies,
The weather seems like an elaborate game.

Wasted life, every knows,
While the young rot in schools, time is wasted,
Love is made but my hatred grows,
Lover on the lip, pain tasted.

Junky lad writes poems for fun,
No wit or talent ever shown,
Success made by stealings won.
Scummy vermin lower the tone.

Daddys gone forever and more,
Daddy, a man so easily led,
He promised himself just one more score,
Now he’s pulling doors, his soul, dead.

a challenge set by la spice.

It' raining hard. black clouds forming, not a fan of rain, going to stay in. may watch TV, turn on my radio, look at a book.

should I have a cup of coffee, capachino or the stuff that is in small bags? and toast with jam, bit hungry.

Over on my Myplace2 blog I have been running a series of challenges. Some of these challenges have been suggested by other bloggers and the latest one is a writing challenge. Perhaps members of this group would like to take up the SeasideMan's challenge?

Write a short story not containing the letter "e", and then post it.

Here is my own submission:

Transport

In my youth I had so much fun. My family was poor but happy, and I was rich in imagination. My days and nights had such magical quality. I took walks in and around my town. Roaming uphill and downhill, playing in brooks, catching fish and occasionally train-spotting. By today’s standards an almost idyllic childhood.

A particular day springs to mind. My dad wasn’t working and was taking our family on a coach trip to Bridlington. Loads of mums, dads and kids stood waiting for an hour or so but no sign of transport of any kind.

So with picnics in hand and raring to go a gigantic town picnic was quickly in full swing. Sons and dads brought chairs and rugs. Mums and girls put out an amazing array of food and drink.

Towards dusk, music rang around our town with singing and dancing giving it an almost carnival air.

This was a happy family day out for all and practically in our own backyard.

Transport - what transport?

No thanks!

Right - start writing - NOW!

It's only when we truly know and understand that we have a limited time on Earth - and that we have no way of knowing when our time is up - that we begin to love each day to the fullest, as if it was the only one we had.

E.K.Ross

Our myths and legends told us that we needed to preserve the old knowledge and keep it hidden so it would not be taken away and destroyed. We were told that a time would come when our knowledge and wisdom would be needed to save the planet, and that time is now. Now we must speak and share the wisdom of our ancestors.

Native elders the world over.

TWELVE GUARDIANS

She walked slowly up the stairs. The sharp blade small disk in her hand moved slowly and steadily, scracthing the concrete along the way. Then it stopped for a second on a death hand hanging over it and slicing it with just one move. And she still kept walking, entering the vast chamber where her friends stood in half circle before a blooded middle aged man with a blood stain large sabre used to hold himself from falling. His back against a luxurious altar dedicated for Ormuzd. The flame in the holy trunk(?) lighted the place The flame in the holy trunk(?) lighted the place and the faces of the people around the old man. She moved closer to one big man with a large scepter equipped with a blood stained sharp blade. With one of her hand on her waist, she leaned to him. Watched the old man first before then turned to the big man and said, “ Just a weak sick wounded old guy, and five of you still can not get him down?"
The big guy jerked his head toward a youth who stood with his back against the wall. " Ask that stupid bastard! He gave us wrong information!"
The youth watched him with cold staring, his face perspired and dirt and blood running from sliced forehead.
" Don't tell us you failed in poisoning him, honey," she said, smiling.
"O, he poisoned him good, allright. But he forgot to tell us he possessed the antivenom!"
"Antivenom my ass!" a medium height guy with long hair and two large sharp blade golden disks in his hands.

i wont be posting here anymore
sorry but im not ready to let everyone see my writing
just those whom i trust 100%

k
thank you