Kat, or maybe it was akabukowski, once said to me that everyone thinks their life would make a good book.
She is probably right. What do you think?
Here is your chance.
Let's all tell stories from our experiences as we traveled through time.
Ahh, but there has to be rules. They will be pretty loose, but rules there must be.
1. It can be any experience that you want to tell us about.
2. It can be as short as one line. Or as long as fifty. Anything over thirty will be deleted.
3.You do not have to end the story at fiftyy lines, but you have to quit writing at the end of fiftyy lines. You can not post again until at least one other person has posted something.
This ensures that everyone gets a chance.
4.You can continue on the same subject or jump to a new one.
5. Nothing is required to be in chronological order.
6. Very Graphic Sexual discriptions should be posted in the sex talk group. You can direct us to go there if we want to read about it.
7. No one will be checking the facts
8. Additional rules will be posted and implemented as I see fit.
Step right up and post. who knows, the next knock on your door may be Spielberg asking for the movie rights.
This story is a bit nasty, so reader beware if you have a low grossness threshold. A few of us were congregated in the break room at work when the subject of burglaries came up. This drama was the best...the guy that told it said it happened to his brother and his brother's wife.
Their house was burglarized and the common items were taken...TV, stereo, jewelry, camera, etc... What was strange was the robbers left the film from the camera. Anyway after the dust had settled a few days later they had the film developed and there were about 5 pictures of the robbers backsides with the owners toothbrushes protruding from their as*holes...the bristle end being anus buried. So imagine finding out that you had been brushing your teeth after your toothbrush had been stuck up someone's butt.
Pass the Listerine please.
At least they didn't have to go to the police station and try to pick out a bunch of suspects in a lineup of known sordid toothbrush miscreants.
The Whites that I knew. The Parents, four Boys and two girls.
At the end of WW II in 1945 the oldest son came home after being in the Pacific as a Marine. He had been wounded. He had a human skull that he kept on a shelf in the bed room. Claimed it was the Jap sniper that had shot him. Kept pictures of roads through the jungles of the Phillipines with dead Japanese solders filling the ruts so the trucks would not sink in. He would randomly beat up his brothers and his wife. Last I heard, he was a prison guard at the prison in Walla Walla, Washington.
Now I remember how it went down, the Foys used to have their weekly drinking card nights and they would go on well into the wee hours of the morning. I guess they were extra loud and my name was mentioned a few times because the next morning when I saw John , the convicted armed robber, I said , "John , if you don't like me, you move, that's my home , I'm not leaving!" WHAM I slammed the door. Behind me, I could hear John silently mouth the word ........."WOW!" I don't suppose that it hurt to have my target up from when I took my firearms safety course at the local firing range on the fridge where anyone who looked through my picture window in my kitchen could see it.
YOU WIN ROBBIE, that's got me beat by a mile. My lovely Ollie got his purple heart because he was shot in the back by a sniper while water skiing down a river in Nam.
The Proust Questionnaire ( which I answered ) blog on the Main Page and the Q&A discussion on placing your possessions in two boxes forced me to start rummaging through an archaeological dig of a pile of papers sitting in a closet...a neat stratum of decades of memories. I was looking for a newspaper clipping containing a letter to the editor I had written around 1995.
It was a mocking tribute to Rush Limbaugh - only his idiotic followers would somehow convince themselves that it was a written admiration of him. Anyway, the same day it appeared in the paper, I received a telephone call from the morning show host of the local country music radio station. This DJ, I recall his name was Stewart, wanted me to be on some round table discussion he was setting up for the purpose of debating the merits or faults of Limbaugh. The wife was listening in and she put the brakes on me attending - said everyone would think I was a loony toon. So I had to decline the invitation and I did not even get to ask him if he thought I was pro or con from my editorial.
Oh, the next day at work I even had a few loony toons ask me to autograph their copy of the newspaper containing my letter.
I have found that most people think that everyone else should have the same likes and dislikes as them.
This makes it easy to miss the clues in good satire.
I have also found that most are inconsistant or illogical in their reasoning. i.e. Military Retirees railing aganst entitlements.
My answers to Gary Freedman's Proust Questionnaire personality profile on the front page.
If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?
Junior Prom night - the couple we went with were both tripping. We sat stopped in the car a half hour waiting for a frog to cross the road in front of us.
Miserable puritans, struggling to change everything and everyone while interfering with every form of life on earth.
Junior Prom night - the couple we went with were both tripping. We sat stopped in the car a half hour waiting for a frog to cross the road in front of us. "
Too funny... :-D
It's not easy being green.
"Times fun, when you're having flies" Kermit
:-) Someone else I know uses that expression, Robbie.