Forums > Social Chat > Lets try this...

Posted: 9th Aug 2002
For some reason I can't tell stories anymore, at least not without going into the first person. I can't help it. Even when I am telling the tale of another person, I tell it as though I am them, getting into their headspace, saying "I" instead of "he" or "she".

But I should try. I will tell a simple tale.

******************

Terry met Rachael at a party. Well, okay, not a party, more like a piss up on a boat. Rachael was the best friend of his ex-girlfriend, and they were all going along together, with him driving.

At the beginning of the evening he had barely noticed her, he was more interested in his ex, and the low-cut black top she was wearing. He kept glancing back at her in the rear view mirror, glossy hair & white skin. The only thing he noticed of Rachael was the occasional ironic glance in his direction.

As he was driving that evening, he could only really have one drink. As the boat left to begin its lurching drunken trek around the harbour, he started to feel very alone. The crowd around him seemed to know a riotous joke, that they hadn't shared with him.

He wandered through the throng to the upper deck, where he noticed Rachael, sitting in her own patch of silence.

****************

That is my story, more of a snapshot really, but it has a beginning, a middle & an end.

Your turn...

It was a day for screaming at inanimate objects.

What this calls for is a special mix of psychology and extreme violence...

Posted: 9th Aug 2002
A small green man jumped into the garden. He had three ickle heads which spun as he jumped. "hmmmm..." his blue finger scratched his head. "what a crappy planet"
he held out his hands and 2 small fireballs hovered above his palms which began to whizz around his body. With a final flick of his wrist the fireballs spun into the sky and promptly blew up the moon to punish the idiots on earth. this benifited the earth as the sea levels rose and wiped out the idiots on the planet.
obviously leaving the HOP kru and other peaceful humans to carry on their little lives on an island.
the ikle green alien transported himself to planet nfdisak;hfuea to continue his career as a shoe maker.
the end

Posted: 10th Aug 2002
Long ago, in a bygone age, when the land was still forming - still deciding what it was to become. When history was still the future. There was a creature.

Without name (as names were not necessary yet), he had no purpose. He knew he was a he because instinct told him so. He knew to eat when he was hungry. Drink when he thirsted.

He desired little. Thought much. Lived in peace with all about him. Was respected and loved by those that met him.

He lived a long, and happy, time and passed away peacefully in his sleep.

Meh

Posted: 10th Aug 2002
Tom opened the fridge.

He took out some creme cheeze, but it was mouldy.

He threw it away.

N

This is a post by tom, all spelling is deleberate
-><- Kallisti

Posted: 30th Aug 2002
So did I waste my time writing that then?

Meh

Posted: 31st Aug 2002
no i've just been busy, i'm sorry

i have read and was interested in what you guys wrote, but i havn't had time to sit down and do what i was going to

thanks for bumping this tho

Keep your dream alive
Dreamin is still how the strong survive

Shalom VeAhavah

New Hampshire has a point....

Posted: 31st Aug 2002
No problem

Meh

Posted: 1st Sep 2002
I'll never know what happened that night. As far back as i can remember, Aunty May had grey hair. But on the last evening that the strangers came, her hair turned golden, yellow sun golden.

In our history, they were always called Strangers. They would come, humming with a blue irridesance, to talk with the elders.

I never knew what they wanted. That night, Aunty May went in to speak with them, and when she came out, her hair was golden and her face serene. The strangers left and never returned. Life on the island became peaceful and sheltered again.

Currently on the right side up of the world.

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
that's good Flynt. 100 words. Spot on. Hardly anyone else has managed that before you.

Meh

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
*shrug*

its somewhat scary C@ntus, that you actually counted the number of words in my story. Its even more scary that i went back and counted the words in your story, to see if you were the first person to do precisely 100 words. Now, either i cant count or, your total comes in at 99 words....

its probably that i cant count `

Currently on the right side up of the world.

Posted: 1st Sep 2002
I copied and pasted into a write program. Then did a word count. The computer does the hard work - so you dont have to.

Meh

Posted: 1st Sep 2002
yes but honestly..... wheres the fun in that?

and i was under the impression that a word count, counted every average five keystrokes, and that was a word.... but im bad at impressions, so we'll just leave that one alone `

Currently on the right side up of the world.

Posted: 1st Sep 2002
Damn. 99. hold on.

Meh

Posted: 1st Sep 2002
Once, long ago, in a bygone age, when the land was still forming - still deciding what it was to become. When history was still the future. There was a creature.

Without name (as names were not necessary yet), he had no purpose. He knew he was a he because instinct told him so. He knew to eat when he was hungry. Drink when he thirsted.

He desired little. Thought much. Lived in peace with all about him. Was respected and loved by those that met him.

He lived a long, and happy, time and passed away peacefully in his sleep.

Meh

Posted: 1st Sep 2002
How's that?

Meh

Posted: 1st Sep 2002
ahhhhh you have added the word "once"...

what can i say, i like it, it makes sense.. `

Currently on the right side up of the world.

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
Once upon a time, there were three little soldiers. One day, the Drill Instructor announced that they were to each build a bunker. So off they went.
Now, the first little soldier made his bunker out of sandbags. And the second little soldier made his bunker out of logs. And the third little soldier used steel-reinforced concrete, with constantina wire, a mined perimeter, anti-aircraft and .50 caliber machine gun nests.
The next day, the Drill Instructor rolled up to the first bunker in his Abrahms tank. "I'll load and I'll aim and I'll blow your bunker away." And he did. Then he rolled up to the second bunker and said "I'll load and I'll aim and I'll blow your bunker away." And he did. Then to the third bunker. "I'll load and I'll aim, and I'll--" But just then the third little soldier called in an air-strike and bombed his tank back to the stone age. The end.

Dance like it hurts; Love like you need money; Work like someone is watching.

Never criticize someone until you've walked a mile in their shoes. That way, when you DO criticize them, you are a mile away, and you have their shoes.

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
Brian and Bob were walking through the woods one day when they came upon some tracks.

Brain procaimed them to be bear tracks while Bob adimantly disagreed and said they were rabbit tracks.

Then they both got hit by a train.

Jesus helps me trick people.

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
There was once a Tea Master who, whilst walking through the busy streets of a town happened to brush against the sword of a Samurai passing in the opposite direction. The Samurai, considering this an insult upon his honour, challenged the Tea Master and demanded that the two meet in combat the next day at a place outside the town.

The Tea Master, knowing full well that he was no match for the Samurai in a duel condemned himself to death the next day as honour forbid him to run away from the challenge.

The next day the Tea Master met the Samurai at the place outside the town, the challenge was issued and both parties stepped forward. The Tea Master looked at the mighty Samurai and said, "Before the duel commences, I would like to perform the Tea Ceremony one last time." the Samurai was indeed a gentleman and replied, "Of course, I will retire and wait until you have finished."

The Tea Master cleared a space on the ground and took from his pockets the necessary implements for the ceremony, he assembled the items and began. The ceremony was flawless, the Tea Masters face a mask of concentration as he spoke the blessing of the ceremony. The Samurai stood for several minutes watching with much interest, when it was finished he stepped up to the Tea Master and said, "Never have I met such a man, you knew you were going to die this day and yet you have kept your calm in the face of death. I wish to learn such courage and I ask you to take me as your student and teach me the Tea Ceremony so I may face death with as much dignity as you have."

I know it's a bit over 100 words, but it's a good (and moral) story.

K

[ 03 September 2002, 01:16: Message edited by: Kurobei ]

whats up with all the limitations?

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
Bang.

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
So far I like Sickpuppy's one best.

Does anyone remember the 3 bears story i wrote on here a while back? I think it was in January.

I'll see if I can find it for you.

Meh

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
Ok I've found it. Does anyone actually want to read it I wonder?

Meh

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
Well tough I'm going to post it anyhoo.

~~

Once upon a time, in a forest not so far from here, a young man was going for a walk. His name was Cantus and he was an artist (of sorts) by trade.
He'd been walking all day and was feeling a little tired from the road so he decided to take a rest.

Looking around his eyes fell on a small cottage nestling gently in the woods a short distance from the road. He decided to strike out for this hoping to find shelter, perhaps in some out building or on the leeward side of the building (as the wind was beginning to pick up).

As he approached the building it occurred to him that it was in fact vacant and, having only a vague understanding of property law, stepped inside.

The interior was modest, as you might expect from the interior of a small woodland cottage in a story such as this. Directly in front of him were half a dozen or so rough hewn chairs at a sturdy looking wooden table. Set on the table were more than several place settings. As if a small group of people, at some time in the past, breakfasted here but left without tidying up.

A thick layer of dust covered everything floor to ceiling. Rubbish was strewn around the room and there was a rather disturbing smell that i wouldn't like to try and describe as the mere thought of it makes me retch.

Being a tidy soul, young Cantus decided to do a spot of spring cleaning (although it was actually October). After a cursory search of the room revealed no cleaning products - not one mop, broom, duster or bucket for the putting of bleach therein - he decided to simply throw out all the mess and work from there.

A grubby, dusty and somewhat back breaking age passed before young Cantus finally felt he had reached a stage where he could sit down without contracting some rare disease.

So sit down he did.
Only to find that first chair was too soft.
I can't sit there he thought, it's too comfy. Too long and I'll fall asleep and I'll never get all the rest of the rooms tidied (behind some particularly gruesome mire he had discovered several adjoining - and duly mucky - bedrooms, a kitchen and a really disgusting bathroom. In which he had found some really disturbing hairs cramming up the plughole. He hoped beyond hope that the previous occupants had had a dog or something. The Kitchen had been filled with bowl upon bowl of porridge and a book entitled 50 Really Simple Porridge Recipes).

Unfortunately for Cantus at this point 2 things happened. Firstly the owners of the cottage - 7 short men, with even shorter tempers, and their 3 pet bears - were drawing near.
And secondly, overwhelmed by the comfort of the first chair, Cantus fell asleep.

The door swung wide open and the owners, back from a week working in the diamond mine swaggered and staggered in.
"Hey, who's been sitting in my chair?" said one dwarf.
"Well it was quite blatantly that bloke there wasn't it," replied another.
"growr" said a bear.
"Shut up Bear." said a dwarf.

"Hey. Who's been messing with my stuff?" asked a third dwarf "My collection of tasteful etchings of playful nymphs and dryads is missing!"

"Your pile of obscene porn has gone too Doc."

"Who would've done such a thing?" asked a 5th dwarf

"Again I'm gonna plump for that guy there." said the second dwarf, who's name was Itchy.
"But why? Why would he do such a thing Itchy? Why?" Blubbed a dwarf who's name was Nancy.

"I think, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he did it because he is a git."

And so it came to pass that, after a brief discussion, peppered with much swearing from the dwarves and quite a lot of growling from the bears (what else would they do? Recite prose?) the dwarves killed Cantus and the bears ate him.

And they all lived happily ever after.....except one of the bears who went mad and thought he was a road sign.....and 3 of the dwarves who perished in a car wreck after misinterpreting the Beware Bear sign at a railroad crossing.

Meh

Posted: 3rd Sep 2002
Oh. I seem to have killed the thread.

Meh

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
Way to go, Cantus.

Jesus helps me trick people.

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
Well I haven't annoyed anyone since this morning.

Meh

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
killing herself laffing......

love the story C@ntus! Bravo! Bravo!

Currently on the right side up of the world.

Posted: 2nd Sep 2002
hehehe... beaut' story

-As angels debate chance and fate-
i was riding through melbourne on a midget giraffe, things were peachy.

Posted: 3rd Sep 2002
i'll get there i promise. i had to say lol @ sick puppy tho. and Kinudin.... i don't think you got both a begining and an end in there but feel free to correct me. I'm having fun reading these even if i havn't gotten to reply yet. props to y'all.

Keep your dream alive
Dreamin is still how the strong survive

Shalom VeAhavah

New Hampshire has a point....

Posted: 12th Sep 2002
You there yet Kyrian?

Meh