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Jenifer
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« on: July 16, 2009, 04:24:30 PM » |
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So this is what we're doing. Writing a story line by line... Each person writes one line. The next person responds to that line. We'll number the lines so we know when it's done. You cannot write more than a line. Then when we get to thirty we'll compile the lines and quote it and start over. Don't just write any random shit. At least try to make it make sense, freak.
1. Manifred's sideburns were horribly ungroomed.
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Jenifer
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« Reply #31 on: August 04, 2009, 11:53:55 PM » |
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Manifred's sideburns were horribly ungroomed. So his wife, Horisha, decided to make her sideburns look just like his. After an unsuccessful trip to the pharmacy, she purchased a gun instead. Manifred found the gun, and seeing that it wasn't loaded... decided to load it. At least there's one gun around here that won't be firing blanks, you impotent fuck,' snorted Horisha while exhaling smoke from the cigarette that was now nothing more than a butt. Manifred unzipped his fly and took out an erection he'd been saving for the girl next door. Grasping the gun in one hand and his cock in the other, he looked out the bedroom window through the darkness to the house next door. "Bukowski", he whispered. Slowly, but with determination, he turned the gun on Horisha, flaccid cock still in hand. There was a blinding flash of light in the sky, and the clouds roared angrily in the distance. "Bukowski", he whispered again. And as the name escaped his lips, the sky parted. There in the blue sky was a giant Zeppelin with a banner hanging from its belly. Behind him was God smiling a toothless smile. And behind that was God's ass parting in the parted sky. Unable to fathom all this without losing his mind, Manifred closed the curtains on the window, turned, and shot Horisha in the stomach all the while never letting go of his limp dick. And he noticed how much stronger and hornier he was than a female corpse whose power, estrogen, pools under her. God's ass was a wondrous thing, all shit flecked, and full of hemorrhoids. Someone fell out of it. Just then, there was a knock at the door. There was another knock at the door, this time louder and accompanied by a woman shrieking 'Jesuuuuuuuus' in a pained manner. Manifred opened the door and discovered his mother standing on the other side. holding a dead baby. She stood still in her blood stained clothes, with an over-grown mustache and disheveled hair. Manifred stared at the baby and realized he was looking at his father. It was then that he recalled the sheet of acid he had licked approximately two and a half hours earlier. His mother melted into the carpet leaving the baby to roll around in her sticky residue. Manifred clutched a hand to his throat. And peed his pants. And at that moment, the sun went out and the world came to an end.
the end.
we made it!
someone else come up with a first line for the next story.
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dhyan (U.F.)
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« Reply #32 on: August 05, 2009, 03:06:35 AM » |
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1. Joy is not what you think it is. Joy is an old women...
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not finished, not polished. but here..
"Words rarely express the true meaning; in fact they tend to hide it."
(H. Hesse)
"Master the masters and serve the servants" (Flow)
"before every 'but' stands a lie" (Osho)
opinions are like ass holes - everybody got one
"It is forbidden to kill; therefore, all murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets."
(Voltaire)
it is just me, just now
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Sana Rafiq
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« Reply #33 on: August 05, 2009, 12:16:45 PM » |
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2. who has a penchant for young men.
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Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"
T.S. Eliot
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Creativity can solve almost any problem. The creative act, the defeat of habit by originality, overcomes everything - George Lois
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Jenifer
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« Reply #34 on: August 05, 2009, 04:02:09 PM » |
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3. She spends her days teaching home economics at the local high school.
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dhyan (U.F.)
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« Reply #35 on: August 08, 2009, 01:07:23 PM » |
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4. while the nights she spends on the beach, running...
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Logged
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not finished, not polished. but here..
"Words rarely express the true meaning; in fact they tend to hide it."
(H. Hesse)
"Master the masters and serve the servants" (Flow)
"before every 'but' stands a lie" (Osho)
opinions are like ass holes - everybody got one
"It is forbidden to kill; therefore, all murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets."
(Voltaire)
it is just me, just now
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Father Luke
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« Reply #36 on: August 09, 2009, 08:57:19 PM » |
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5. Her name is Amanda, and she writes post cards.
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"The castigation of fools is, of course, an ancient and honorable task of writers and, unless very poorly done, an enterprise that will usually entertain those who behold it." ~ Richard Mitchell |
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Jenifer
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« Reply #37 on: August 10, 2009, 01:37:39 PM » |
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6. Her mother called her Amanda Joy.
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Father Luke
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« Reply #38 on: August 10, 2009, 03:58:24 PM » |
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7. As she grew older, Amanda noticed the fun things in life and began sending postcards to all her friends, even if they lived across the street, and wrote to these people like she was somewhere else, say for instance traveling in Vietnam on a mission to promote napping, when you might see her in Ruskie's having a beer the same day you got her postcard -- and she would give you a wink, and sip her beer.
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"The castigation of fools is, of course, an ancient and honorable task of writers and, unless very poorly done, an enterprise that will usually entertain those who behold it." ~ Richard Mitchell |
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Sana Rafiq
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« Reply #39 on: August 10, 2009, 06:22:59 PM » |
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8. Despite her flights of fancy and the childish pranks she often pulled at other people, deep inside she was a sombre character and could be quite serious, and it was this dichotomy that compelled her mother to leave Amanda to her own devices.
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Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"
T.S. Eliot
--
Creativity can solve almost any problem. The creative act, the defeat of habit by originality, overcomes everything - George Lois
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Jenifer
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« Reply #40 on: August 11, 2009, 02:47:30 AM » |
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9. More and more frequently, Amanda Joy took to sniffing the bike seats of the patrons visiting the local pool hall about two blocks away from where she lived.
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Father Luke
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« Reply #41 on: August 26, 2009, 03:15:14 PM » |
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10. So you could see Amanda on any particular day sitting at the tavern, nursing a beer, and writing post cards.
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"The castigation of fools is, of course, an ancient and honorable task of writers and, unless very poorly done, an enterprise that will usually entertain those who behold it." ~ Richard Mitchell |
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dhyan (U.F.)
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« Reply #42 on: August 27, 2009, 05:30:01 AM » |
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11. One day, Amanda could not find words to put on a post card she intended to send to her ex boyfriend, living next door with their two daughters
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not finished, not polished. but here..
"Words rarely express the true meaning; in fact they tend to hide it."
(H. Hesse)
"Master the masters and serve the servants" (Flow)
"before every 'but' stands a lie" (Osho)
opinions are like ass holes - everybody got one
"It is forbidden to kill; therefore, all murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets."
(Voltaire)
it is just me, just now
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Sana Rafiq
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« Reply #43 on: August 27, 2009, 09:19:18 AM » |
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12. Then she realized a funny thing, and wondered why on earth would she need to send him a postcard when he lived right next door, and this made her want to hammer her head on the wall a couple of times to make sure she was sober that day.
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Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"
T.S. Eliot
--
Creativity can solve almost any problem. The creative act, the defeat of habit by originality, overcomes everything - George Lois
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redperil
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« Reply #44 on: August 28, 2009, 08:41:05 AM » |
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13. The wall gave way and there standing stark bollock naked in his front room was her neighbour, he looked her and smiled as if all his birthdays had come at once, but he came just the once.
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Black is white. Don't argue with me.
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Jenifer
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« Reply #45 on: January 26, 2010, 03:21:12 AM » |
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14. Wiping off, he apologized, as he had obviously been startled during a private moment between himself, Amanda's bike seat, and a stack of post cards addressed by Amanda which he had been pilfering and saving for quite some time.
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