Thank you Misha, I'll always take "brilliant" merited or not. What a luxury this thread is in the face of world events. Thank God for arts of pleasant distraction. What inspired your story?
Solikecandy-I think a quick death was too kind a fate for your villain. Perhaps a curse that caused him to wink continually and led him to oncoming traffic. You're much too exceptional for a man with a wandering eye-all the ladies of the board are.
tell me a story
-
lapinsjolis
- Posts: 513
- Joined: Thu Jun 05, 2003 1:23 am
- Location: In the cloud of unknowing
- Contact:
-
SoLikeCandy
- Posts: 499
- Joined: Tue Jun 03, 2003 8:06 am
- Location: Indianapolis, IN
- Contact:
-
lapinsjolis
- Posts: 513
- Joined: Thu Jun 05, 2003 1:23 am
- Location: In the cloud of unknowing
- Contact:
Rope- You're speaking in gifs!
I thought it was true Misha. Interesting story.
I'm all for flirting but a wink as an ice breaker is a lack of imagination. Flirting with someone who is not your date while on one is unforgivable and just such bad form. Winking is also something few people do well. It can look more like a tick.
I thought it was true Misha. Interesting story.
I'm all for flirting but a wink as an ice breaker is a lack of imagination. Flirting with someone who is not your date while on one is unforgivable and just such bad form. Winking is also something few people do well. It can look more like a tick.
"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken."
-
SoLikeCandy
- Posts: 499
- Joined: Tue Jun 03, 2003 8:06 am
- Location: Indianapolis, IN
- Contact:
Funny enough, the Winker was really a wonderful guy, aside from that. It wasn't until later that he turned into a crazy, insecure man.
The odd and annoying habit of winking at women, however, sometimes made my hand twitch--especially when we were in a restaurant and I had a knife in my hand.
Misha--I'm dying for more info behind your story. This has taken on the feel of a dark night with a campfire...
The odd and annoying habit of winking at women, however, sometimes made my hand twitch--especially when we were in a restaurant and I had a knife in my hand.
Misha--I'm dying for more info behind your story. This has taken on the feel of a dark night with a campfire...
If there's one thing you can say about mankind--there's nothing kind about man
-
noiseradio
- Posts: 2295
- Joined: Tue Jun 03, 2003 12:04 pm
- Location: Dallas, TX
- Contact:
Winking at another woman while you're sitting at a table with your wife/girlfriend is the non-verbal equivalent of saying "Hey Baby. I'm with someone. But that could change, if you know what I mean."
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
--William Shakespeare
--William Shakespeare
-
costellopunk
- Posts: 124
- Joined: Fri Jun 06, 2003 4:35 am
- Location: recovering in corpus christi, tx
here's a story that i usually tell at parties:
so i was sitting in the back seat. chad and sergio were wasted and driving just a bit too fast. i think i tried to tell them to slow down...my mouth moved but nothing came out of it. i think i drank too much. the pills didn't help anything either. chad slow down the car to dead crawl. i look out the window and see these two mormons walking. chad and sergio are yelling at them. horrible, offensive things. i feel my face blushing red. this kind of cruelty is most definitely not my thing. had i my senses i would have found a way to get out of there. than the car lurches to a slow sputtering halt. chad curses. the gas tank is empty. the mormons catch up to the car and help chad and sergio push it up to the gas station. the mormons give chad and sergio five bucks to put into the tank and wish them a good day. i laugh myself senseless and puke all over the back of the passenger side seat.
so i was sitting in the back seat. chad and sergio were wasted and driving just a bit too fast. i think i tried to tell them to slow down...my mouth moved but nothing came out of it. i think i drank too much. the pills didn't help anything either. chad slow down the car to dead crawl. i look out the window and see these two mormons walking. chad and sergio are yelling at them. horrible, offensive things. i feel my face blushing red. this kind of cruelty is most definitely not my thing. had i my senses i would have found a way to get out of there. than the car lurches to a slow sputtering halt. chad curses. the gas tank is empty. the mormons catch up to the car and help chad and sergio push it up to the gas station. the mormons give chad and sergio five bucks to put into the tank and wish them a good day. i laugh myself senseless and puke all over the back of the passenger side seat.
-it takes a long time but god dies too/but not before he sticks it to you-
-
noiseradio
- Posts: 2295
- Joined: Tue Jun 03, 2003 12:04 pm
- Location: Dallas, TX
- Contact:
c-punk.
Good story. And I like the signature line. Is that from "Beestung?"
Ok, here's a true story:
It's Christmas Eve, and my older brother and I are at a Staple's, picking up a file cabinet--a present from my mother to my father. We have to pick it up Christmas Eve, as it's really hard to hide a file cabinet. At the counter, we discover our old next-door neighbor is a manager. Cool. We catch up, and then he asks if we want the tan or grey one. Don't know, Mom never specified. We call home. "The grey one, but get out of there. Your father is on his way over there right now to make copies and his surprise will be ruined." We tell Scott what's going on and that we'll be right beack. No problem.
We start out of the store when we spot out Dad's car. He hasn't seen us yet, so he run as fast as we can to my brother's Hyundai. We duck down in the seats until he goes inside--doesn't see us' we're in the clear.
"Driver, get out of the car!"
A quicjk look to the left reveals a police officer, gun drawn, ordering my brother from the vehicle. I'm thinking "what did he do?" So he gets out and is kissing the pavement, when 5 other 5-0's roll up. Now I'm being ordered from the car (which of course means this is all a mistake). But they won't tell us what they think we did. My brother keeps asking, and he is repeatedly told to "shut the fuck up." I am being frisked, there's a gun at the back of my head, and another whose barrel I am staring down. A cop asks, "Can we look in your car." My brother replies, "You got the gun chief; you can do what you want." Probably not smart. But there's nothing in the car for them to find. And we are finally allowed to stand.
"Why were you running from the store and hiding in the car when you saw me?"
"We were hiding from my Dad," I volunteer. "We didn't want him to see his Christmas present.
"Bullshit."
"No really. Our Dad's a lawyer..." [slight concern washes over their faces] "...and we're geting him a file cabinet. But he rolled up, so we hid. You can ask the manager. His name is Scott. He'll tell you." Never bee more grateful to know the manager of an office supply store in my life.
So they check. We are still standing, but also still at gunpoint. An officer returns. "They're telling the truth."
"I'll be damned."
And then, as quickly as they descended (and before I could get badge numbers), they were gone. We get back in the car, still shaking. My Dad exits the store, gets in his car and drives away. Never saw a thing.
He liked the file cabinet a lot. I liked the apology the chief of police wrote in the Baltimore Sun after my Dad got through with him.
Good story. And I like the signature line. Is that from "Beestung?"
Ok, here's a true story:
It's Christmas Eve, and my older brother and I are at a Staple's, picking up a file cabinet--a present from my mother to my father. We have to pick it up Christmas Eve, as it's really hard to hide a file cabinet. At the counter, we discover our old next-door neighbor is a manager. Cool. We catch up, and then he asks if we want the tan or grey one. Don't know, Mom never specified. We call home. "The grey one, but get out of there. Your father is on his way over there right now to make copies and his surprise will be ruined." We tell Scott what's going on and that we'll be right beack. No problem.
We start out of the store when we spot out Dad's car. He hasn't seen us yet, so he run as fast as we can to my brother's Hyundai. We duck down in the seats until he goes inside--doesn't see us' we're in the clear.
"Driver, get out of the car!"
A quicjk look to the left reveals a police officer, gun drawn, ordering my brother from the vehicle. I'm thinking "what did he do?" So he gets out and is kissing the pavement, when 5 other 5-0's roll up. Now I'm being ordered from the car (which of course means this is all a mistake). But they won't tell us what they think we did. My brother keeps asking, and he is repeatedly told to "shut the fuck up." I am being frisked, there's a gun at the back of my head, and another whose barrel I am staring down. A cop asks, "Can we look in your car." My brother replies, "You got the gun chief; you can do what you want." Probably not smart. But there's nothing in the car for them to find. And we are finally allowed to stand.
"Why were you running from the store and hiding in the car when you saw me?"
"We were hiding from my Dad," I volunteer. "We didn't want him to see his Christmas present.
"Bullshit."
"No really. Our Dad's a lawyer..." [slight concern washes over their faces] "...and we're geting him a file cabinet. But he rolled up, so we hid. You can ask the manager. His name is Scott. He'll tell you." Never bee more grateful to know the manager of an office supply store in my life.
So they check. We are still standing, but also still at gunpoint. An officer returns. "They're telling the truth."
"I'll be damned."
And then, as quickly as they descended (and before I could get badge numbers), they were gone. We get back in the car, still shaking. My Dad exits the store, gets in his car and drives away. Never saw a thing.
He liked the file cabinet a lot. I liked the apology the chief of police wrote in the Baltimore Sun after my Dad got through with him.
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
--William Shakespeare
--William Shakespeare
-
Misha
- Posts: 733
- Joined: Wed Sep 17, 2003 6:59 pm
- Location: Northern Cold England, and Los Angeles, CA
Noise...unbelievable!! Makes me think we should start a Fun With Cops thread....
SLC...I'm a hospice volunteer, and the boy was my patient. We had some great times together, and being close to the family for such a sudden intense period makes relationships that wouldn't otherwise exist. If anyone out there isn't currently volunteering doing something, I highly recommend it. I feel very intimate with the families, it is a sacred time, and they let me in....just to be me. As is the case here, it is easier not to see me after the dying have gone. Just too painful. Kids rarely end up on hospice, as the medical community is trying to save them the whole time, so they frequently die in a hospital. Sometimes, though, everyone can put it all together and let the kid go. He and I used to make scrapbooks together of his life, he wanted his mom and dad to have after he died. He couldn't use his hands, so he would point at stuff and tell me what to cut up and what to put where and we made a pretty decent scrapbook. It was at his funeral, his family was very happy to have it, as it was one of the last things he did and he was very proud of it.
Really, everyone, you should volunteer doing something...anything. It matters. I thought I didn't have any time, but I found I did, I have been doing it for five years now, and I can't imagine not volunteering. I know, I know, you are all busy, but you need to help your fellow man, it will help them and you.
SLC...I'm a hospice volunteer, and the boy was my patient. We had some great times together, and being close to the family for such a sudden intense period makes relationships that wouldn't otherwise exist. If anyone out there isn't currently volunteering doing something, I highly recommend it. I feel very intimate with the families, it is a sacred time, and they let me in....just to be me. As is the case here, it is easier not to see me after the dying have gone. Just too painful. Kids rarely end up on hospice, as the medical community is trying to save them the whole time, so they frequently die in a hospital. Sometimes, though, everyone can put it all together and let the kid go. He and I used to make scrapbooks together of his life, he wanted his mom and dad to have after he died. He couldn't use his hands, so he would point at stuff and tell me what to cut up and what to put where and we made a pretty decent scrapbook. It was at his funeral, his family was very happy to have it, as it was one of the last things he did and he was very proud of it.
Really, everyone, you should volunteer doing something...anything. It matters. I thought I didn't have any time, but I found I did, I have been doing it for five years now, and I can't imagine not volunteering. I know, I know, you are all busy, but you need to help your fellow man, it will help them and you.
Where are the strong?
Who are the trusted?
Who are the trusted?
-
Mr. Misery
- Posts: 213
- Joined: Tue Jun 24, 2003 6:10 pm
- Location: The barren pathways
The 'Tell me a story' thread in review:
Lipstick kept it brief, she thought it absurd
To utilize more than five or six words.
Poppet sat next to a boy who had his own conversation
And caused her to rethink public transportation.
Dr. J. didn't find it exciting or stellar
To catch a glimpse of Sir Paul Weller.
I know he hasn't been knighted but I needed the extra syllable.
Mug's girl wanted cheesecake
But then longed for peppersteak
Be certain of your dish before
You're careful what you wish for.
The dog dreamed a cowboy that inspired pity
Because his wife left him for sex in the city.
But when toward his sheep his thoughts began flowing
Taz didn't want to know where that was going.
LJ's woman loved light but her man preferred darkness
He slept as she kept in the deep dark starkness.
As in a brilliant Elvis Costello song
Their Harlequin Romance went perfectly wrong.
Misery's Mr. lost his remotes and that is regrettable
But found the secret of the universe surprisingly forgettable.
Laughing Crow's Mr. Chips said goodbye to this world & it's strife:
An instructive tale of the cycle of life.
Blue Chair's highway is no more, yet still it's alive
Copyright Bob Dylan, Nineteen Sixty-Five.
LJ's boy with a problem was his severe shyness
Where others saw a plus he saw a less than minus
On a daily basis he had nothing to say
Much to his extroverted sister's dismay.
She said he had sparkle, but he wondered who could love it
Looking downward he mused on his shoes the angels didn't covet.
(I re-read this story and savored it.
I must confess it is my favorite.
That is why I praise it in verse;
By the way my second favorite was her first.)
Next came a witty Poe poem of how the dead are Lear and near us
The girl wanted an inheritance but not to become an Earess!
So Like Candy dated a winker whose leers would linger
But at least his gun was only a finger.
Misha's haunting story was true, though I was too afraid to ask it
Ashes to ashes, a teddy bear in a casket.
Costellopunk's friends laughed at Mormons but ran out of luck
And his car upholstery wishes it knew when to duck.
Noiseradio raced out of the store before his father saw
And into the incompetent long arms of the law.
The coda is priceless, worth much more than a tuppence:
Baltimore's chief of police's comeuppance!
Good holiday thoughts for you and everyone on your block:
Help your fellow man, and hospices rock.
Lipstick kept it brief, she thought it absurd
To utilize more than five or six words.
Poppet sat next to a boy who had his own conversation
And caused her to rethink public transportation.
Dr. J. didn't find it exciting or stellar
To catch a glimpse of Sir Paul Weller.
I know he hasn't been knighted but I needed the extra syllable.
Mug's girl wanted cheesecake
But then longed for peppersteak
Be certain of your dish before
You're careful what you wish for.
The dog dreamed a cowboy that inspired pity
Because his wife left him for sex in the city.
But when toward his sheep his thoughts began flowing
Taz didn't want to know where that was going.
LJ's woman loved light but her man preferred darkness
He slept as she kept in the deep dark starkness.
As in a brilliant Elvis Costello song
Their Harlequin Romance went perfectly wrong.
Misery's Mr. lost his remotes and that is regrettable
But found the secret of the universe surprisingly forgettable.
Laughing Crow's Mr. Chips said goodbye to this world & it's strife:
An instructive tale of the cycle of life.
Blue Chair's highway is no more, yet still it's alive
Copyright Bob Dylan, Nineteen Sixty-Five.
LJ's boy with a problem was his severe shyness
Where others saw a plus he saw a less than minus
On a daily basis he had nothing to say
Much to his extroverted sister's dismay.
She said he had sparkle, but he wondered who could love it
Looking downward he mused on his shoes the angels didn't covet.
(I re-read this story and savored it.
I must confess it is my favorite.
That is why I praise it in verse;
By the way my second favorite was her first.)
Next came a witty Poe poem of how the dead are Lear and near us
The girl wanted an inheritance but not to become an Earess!
So Like Candy dated a winker whose leers would linger
But at least his gun was only a finger.
Misha's haunting story was true, though I was too afraid to ask it
Ashes to ashes, a teddy bear in a casket.
Costellopunk's friends laughed at Mormons but ran out of luck
And his car upholstery wishes it knew when to duck.
Noiseradio raced out of the store before his father saw
And into the incompetent long arms of the law.
The coda is priceless, worth much more than a tuppence:
Baltimore's chief of police's comeuppance!
Good holiday thoughts for you and everyone on your block:
Help your fellow man, and hospices rock.
Last edited by Mr. Misery on Wed Dec 17, 2003 7:37 am, edited 3 times in total.
-
lapinsjolis
- Posts: 513
- Joined: Thu Jun 05, 2003 1:23 am
- Location: In the cloud of unknowing
- Contact:
Mr. Misery how gracious you are to write poem for everyone. It is marvelous and charming, like you. I love reading everyone's work. It is a bright spot in the midst of the tensions and misunderstandings on this board. Everyone has something to offer and wants to be acknowledged, you have done so beautifully.
I wish for you a house in Key West, silence, a really good publisher (I'd opt for Little Brown myself) and typing paper-Merry Christmas.
I wish for you a house in Key West, silence, a really good publisher (I'd opt for Little Brown myself) and typing paper-Merry Christmas.
"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken."
-
Mr. Misery
- Posts: 213
- Joined: Tue Jun 24, 2003 6:10 pm
- Location: The barren pathways
-
A rope leash
- Posts: 1835
- Joined: Fri Jun 13, 2003 6:47 pm
- Location: southern misery, USA
That's really cool
"savor it" and "favorite".
That's brilliant, and very "Costelloish".
Great piece, Sir Misery.
That's brilliant, and very "Costelloish".
Great piece, Sir Misery.
-
noiseradio
- Posts: 2295
- Joined: Tue Jun 03, 2003 12:04 pm
- Location: Dallas, TX
- Contact:
-
miss buenos aires
- Posts: 2055
- Joined: Wed Jun 04, 2003 7:15 am
- Location: jcnj
- Contact:
Wow, I didn't expect such a wonderful response, or rather, string of responses. You guys are awesome. Especially Mr. Misery.
I forgot to say this before, but I'm actually a big fan of winking. When I was in Paris, I was sort of seeing this guy (okay, yes, it was the guy with big hands who turned out to be a jerk), and I went to the café where he worked (how could I resist? A Parisian café waiter!) and whenever he walked by my table to serve his other customers, he'd wink at me. He was big on winking. It was cute. That is my story.
I forgot to say this before, but I'm actually a big fan of winking. When I was in Paris, I was sort of seeing this guy (okay, yes, it was the guy with big hands who turned out to be a jerk), and I went to the café where he worked (how could I resist? A Parisian café waiter!) and whenever he walked by my table to serve his other customers, he'd wink at me. He was big on winking. It was cute. That is my story.
-
Otis Westinghouse
- Posts: 8856
- Joined: Tue Jun 03, 2003 3:32 pm
- Location: The theatre of dreams
I remember that winker - how long have we been here?
Another true one. A slight but unbelievably tragic 'you would reject it as an implausible film plot' story of the 'so you don't believe in fate, eh?' variety:
A friend's father was flying up to Edinburgh. Her mother had incredible premonitions of death. She begged him not to take that flight, but a later one. He did. It crashed.
Another true one. A slight but unbelievably tragic 'you would reject it as an implausible film plot' story of the 'so you don't believe in fate, eh?' variety:
A friend's father was flying up to Edinburgh. Her mother had incredible premonitions of death. She begged him not to take that flight, but a later one. He did. It crashed.