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Post by Mister Buch on Feb 16, 2011 21:22:45 GMT 1
Another early entry from me. I actually have almost all of them written out, now. I've basically been doing two a day, to cheat.
17th February
- Bullshit, Mike. You are so full...
- Just stop talking, okay? I just need to go and have five minutes...
- Or half...
- Or whatEVER by myself. Will you LET me take a shower?
- An Asian girl in a blue dress...
- Chinese... Chinese dress...
- Was at the waterfront, kicki- KICKING... our car to pieces?
- Took about ninety seconds.
- Well then, fuck, Mike, she must be the strongest woman in the world.
- Then she, like, jumps up and down, gives me the finger or something and goes, 'yap dap!'
- What does...
- I don't KNOW what THE FUCK 'YAP DAP' MEANS IN FUCKING CHINESE.
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Post by Battlechantress on Feb 17, 2011 5:44:01 GMT 1
I have a new problem that is only going to get worse now....
16 February 2011
The puppy is growing. Rather, her legs are getting long. Very long. In two weeks' time, she has grown slightly taller than the corgi. She is still ribby despite multiple daily feedings, and still thinks that each meal could be her last. With her newfound height, however, she is discovering the joys of trying to take things off of counters and tables. I watched, open-mouthed, as she tried to get the broiler open, followed by an attempt to open a drawer to get to tin foil, and her crowning achievement: opening the dishwasher and crawling inside to "clean" plates!
--
I like herding dogs a lot for their brains, but this girl is making my efforts at raising Mischief seem simple by comparison. Sure, he earned his name (for lots and lots of reasons), but at least he never got big enough to try taking dinner off of the kitchen counter! (It will be a matter of time before she is successful at the rate she's going, I just know it.)
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Post by Battlechantress on Feb 17, 2011 17:38:44 GMT 1
I'm trying to tie up both stories that I have been writing on 100words this month, so the next two weeks are likely going to be a mess.
17 February 2011
Red River Woman kept grabbing at her ankles, cursing the tiny sharp teeth that kept piercing them. She finally grabbed the small furry creature and detached it from her right ankle bone and sent it towards the Sandman. Unfortunately, the creature was a shaggy puppy who, like most of its ilk, had two speeds: comatose or destructive. It collapsed at the Sandman's feet before he even swung his sandbag around once again. He focused his attention on the woman and began shuffling towards her. She prepared to tackle him while Cleverer watched Old Man Winter's army continue its frozen march.
Edit: "frozen march"? Oh boy. I knew I had a hell of a time trying to come up with an entry for today, but geez.
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Post by Mister Buch on Feb 17, 2011 23:34:29 GMT 1
18th February
There was a smug, 90's-looking British scientist on the little monitor whilst Tom buttoned his jacket. Talking about Mars, like everyone always was. This seemed like an old vid; the guy hadn't mentioned the mission.
The First Mission to Mars, crewed by David Shepard, Jane Anderson... and Tom Polsen at the head. Tom was the handsomest and youngest, so he was scheduled to be the Neil Armstrong. Interviews and crap.
'We now have EYES and ears on the surface,' the Brit enthused, grinning like a kid.
Tom pulled gloves over his fingers. For a moment, he grinned right back.
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Post by Battlechantress on Feb 19, 2011 0:20:42 GMT 1
It's technically a nonfic entry, but I didn't write it that way.
18 February 2011
"Will the small mixed breed with the piranha teeth please remove your incisors and canines from the female human's ankle?"
A renewed attack on the human's right leg was her response.
"There's a rope toy for a reward."
She ignored the voice and continued to gnaw.
"How about a bacon-flavored bone?"
The puppy looked up with soulful brown eyes for a moment.
"It's expensive!"
The teething terror took the bone and dragged it under the coffee table. The human watched for a moment, pleased. Then, when her back was turned, the puppy began to chew the remote control.
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Post by Mister Buch on Feb 19, 2011 0:42:34 GMT 1
Here's two in advance from me -
19th February
On my home-planet, Yamii (you know it as Pluto and yes it IS a planet), the major continents are defined by technology. Our third world is a liiiiittle better than your first. There's a culture of upgrades: manufactured evolution.
I went too far and detached all my atoms, so as I could shapeshift. Turns out learning to shapeshift is really, really hard. And expensive. I ended up stuck on Earth, working as a vending machine in Glasgow Central. I make money cuz the station prices are so high and the newsagents' across the road is so cheap.
-'Marrtha', Glasgow.
20th February
When I remember the night at Jamaacia Inn, I remember it being a lot like the Ewok village from 'Jedi'.
At the time, though, all night, I just thought about him. Stared at him, tried very hard not to breathe too loud in case it'd wake him. That first infatuation felt a lot like the first time I got drunk. I couldn't sleep or speak, felt like I was hovering, wanted to stand up but couldn't. I wanted to wake him and talk for hours.
'I love you, Tom,' I kept mouthing. It was the only thing that relaxed me.
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Post by Battlechantress on Feb 19, 2011 23:49:57 GMT 1
I am coming down with the flu thanks to the freakish weather we've been having, so after struggling to come up with a fiction entry for today, I gave up and wrote this instead.
19 February 2011
Six deer and one wild turkey (with at least two more heard in the woods that I could not see). That was the "wildlife count" for today out at the state park. I led the group of friends on horseback out there today. Most of the horses behaved, but I had one cantankerous mare (an Appaloosa) bite the backside of another towards the rear of the group. One thing still puzzles me every time I go out there: wildlife (and domestic cows) don't mind humans... if they are on a horse. Got three feet from one deer before she moved.
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Post by Mister Buch on Feb 20, 2011 22:23:14 GMT 1
This one probably doesn't work, as I really don't know what I'm talking about. I was just playing around with this one.
21st February
The plains are empty, as they prefer to be. Some landscapes like to show-off blossoms carried by wind, others go for fractals. Leaves, veins. Not in Arizona, son. The plains are big, and the people who were born here wore big damn feathers in their hats and hunted buffalo. The rest of us make do, acting tough and riding horses.
Any other place, horses are wasted. Bringing them here was the best thing mankind ever did. This place is from the people who brought you horses, I tell you that. They fit too well for it to be otherwise.
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Post by Battlechantress on Feb 20, 2011 23:46:36 GMT 1
20 February 2011
Feminine hygiene products and household cleaners kept in cupboards. That's what the puppy seeks out today. I have also learned that she is now tall enough to reach into the metal trash can (that was originally purchased for the corgi back when he was a pup). She is making sure that I have to stay on top of sweeping and vacuuming.
When I hear ads for cat litter that is supposed to mask odors, I laugh at their "favorite scents". They never seem to include words like "alfalfa hay", "horse manure", "puppy piddle". The last is hardly anybody's favorite, however.
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Post by lieden on Feb 21, 2011 21:09:13 GMT 1
Ack! Extra work at the end of last week + weekend away (and spent without a laptop due to careless planning on my part) means I'm horribly lagging behind. It doesn't help I'm in painting mode, either. Writing is difficult, as illustrated (poorly!) below. -_- 17/02 Sometimes when I was younger, and had a fever, I would lie in bed and feel something like an invisible loom in the empty space between my body and the ceiling. There were threads there, but not quite there: they were almost inside my mouth, my chest, all over my skin. They parted and joined to some unidentified rhythm. As the fever got worse, they would grow thinner and tighter and tangle terribly. This filled me with a kind of anguish. But when things calmed down, the threads turned thick again, smoothened out. My body would feel very close to the ceiling, and eventually, I'd fall asleep. 18/02 I've a terrible relationship with words. Just now, I imagine my head like a bucket. When I try to use them, words are sloshing in there. I take a look, see an interesting pattern, fish it out, and this mostly works. But often enough I may have need of words and find that my bucket is empty. This is frustrating. I remember words in English, but not in Greek, or vice versa. I try to put them together, like fish on a line, and they slip and fall and the line crumbles on top and everything becomes a gross mess. -- (on the plus side, I has a new painting! eilidh.deviantart.com/art/A-fisherman-of-Ares-Vallis-198268294 )
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Post by Mister Buch on Feb 22, 2011 0:55:10 GMT 1
And I have a new desktop wallpaper! Lieden, I think we've all said it before but you're a fantastic painter. - We're on the home stretch now, people. Yous can do it. 22nd FebruaryBoy bands are on the way out. Now even girls think we're too girly – identical white suits and earnest love ballads. Fair play to them. That was never really what they wanted from five handsome young fellas, was it? So. I reckon we have two more singles in us before people stop listening to them. Two more things / diamond rings, two more together / forever. Good songs, I hope, in their way. Even climbing the highest mountain, again, won't impress 'er now. It's official: we're breaking up. It was a wonderful few years and our lives won't ever be the same.
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Post by Battlechantress on Feb 22, 2011 4:16:31 GMT 1
Migraine. No entry today. Skull exploding.
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Post by Battlechantress on Feb 22, 2011 23:02:11 GMT 1
I uncovered a conspiracy between my two dogs! It goes something like this:
21 February 2011
The elder corgi looked over at his ever-growing protege and waited for her to stop bouncing off of the wall and the fence (literally) so that he could go over the day's events. "Did you get inside yet?" he asked her when she slowed down for a brief second.
"The food bin? I told you: I did that last week," the puppy said as she barreled into him, knocking him to the ground. "That's why she bought those lids with the screw on containers."
"Did you get into the trash and get those items?"
The pup grinned.
"Good girl."
22 February 2011
"I got the can of chili and the sticky stuff you said makes the human throw a fit!" the pup told him as she made a grab for a beef-flavored Nylabone. It wasn't as tasty as the bacon one, but the corgi made sure that was for him alone.
"Yes, that feminine... whatever," the corgi replied, squinting in the sun. He still had a few things on his list that he hadn't accomplished as a pup (mostly due to height), but the newcomer could pick up where he left off.
"How soon can you get into the fridge?"
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Post by Battlechantress on Feb 22, 2011 23:02:54 GMT 1
Migraine. No entry today. Skull exploding. Sorry to hear that. Of all of us here, you seem to have it the most difficult, what with your demanding job & naughty puppies. (snip) This jester bows in respect to you, and if Rascarin weren't our Lord & Master i would definitely vote for you to take up that role. Thank you.
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Post by Mister Buch on Feb 23, 2011 1:25:35 GMT 1
One last poem. I spent days on this, and I wonder if I might have re-written it so many times that now it doesn;t make any sense. If you do read it, please let me know if it was actually incomprehensible in the end. Either way, this was a fun experiment for me.
23rd February
One hundred words, my speech? No more no less? My life to sate your deep blue '23'? By forcing your own hand, you dam my neck. This stunted, quick soliloquy's like me, not deep enough to strike a sombre tone or fill a page untouched by other worlds. No play for me, no white unpublished poem with hidden reason, just another hundred– gets you through another day, until at last your careless 'batch' may be adjourned. Another thirty storied lives distilled, diminished, greyed, still waiting for their turn. I haven't finished! Lemme havemy couplet! I have a tale! My name
-
And also here's the next day, in advance again.
24th February
Once, long ago, there was a stablehand named Polly who journeyed for days to visit the Ruler of All Things.
'Send her in!' the Ruler bellowed. He wasn't angry, but his servants were very far away.
'I was just wondering,' Polly mumbled when she finally reached the throne, 'what sorts of things you like to do? Besides indiscriminate ruling, obviously.' The Ruler had never been asked this before and so he smiled, and they sat together and talked.
Eventually the Ruler got the hint and invited her to dinner. In time they married and became the First Amalgamated Horse-Lords.
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