fex Posted December 31, 2007 Share Posted December 31, 2007 (edited) Ok, so here's how it will go. One person will reply to the five words in the previous persons post including them in their own short story, which should be around a hundred words. Make the story as funny / disgusting / dark or as light hearted as you desire. Please only one reply per set of Five words, or this could get messy! The next poster will make a short story with my Five words, then think of 5 words and post them. Have fun! Lion, Blowdry, Postbox, Nipple, Afternoon. ________ Vermont marijuana dispensary Edited April 28, 2011 by fex Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aimless Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 "D'you reckon the term 'nippy' comes from when it being cold, right, people's nipples stick out?" James reclined against the old sealed up postbox, shifting uncomfortably as a dried nugget of concrete dug into the small of his back. "That's an interesting hypothesis," he said, his voice muffled by a ham and cheese sandwich, "although I would imagine it could be more accurately attributed to the common parallel of the cold as something that bites, or in this case nips, much like a parrot or other variant of domesticated fowl." Dave nodded sagely for a moment before his brow furrowed. "Hang on, parrots ain't fowl are they?" James sighed down the rest of his sandwich. "It's not even the afternoon yet, Dave, and that's too early for philosophical, etymological or ornithological questions." "Fair dos." Dave returned to toeing a stone into a crack in the pavement. Without looking up he asked, "You gonna eat that Lion?" "That would depend on certain factors, such as if I give it to you will you cease your inane questioning?" "Done deal, ain't it?" James handed over the chocolate bar. "Beast!" ---------- Yeah, okay, it's more a scene than a story. More a stream of consciousness thing really. Don't like it? Blowdry me. I am such a cheat. As such, no five words from me unless I get the go ahead. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Oxigen_Waste Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 Ok, so here's how it will go. One person will reply to the five words in the previous persons post including them in their own short story, which should be around a hundred words. Make the story as funny / disgusting / dark or as light hearted as you desire. Please only one reply per set of Five words, or this could get messy! The next poster will make a short story with my Five words, then think of 5 words and post them. Have fun! Lion, Blowdry, Postbox, Nipple, Afternoon. My lion blowdried my nipple this afternoon. It now resides in the postbox. Butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter butter. Funny funny stuff. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Bard Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 That was good, Aimless. You need to think of five words though... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jayseven Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 ^Ditto, dude. If this thread takes off at all, it'll be one of the more 'serious' attempts. Giveussomeworrrdds. Oh, and post more ffs. Agreed. Aimless; that'll be one of the rare 'serious' attempts at this thread, no doubt. Come back, give us some words and stick around Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aimless Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 Fine, fine. Cloud, bottle, heart, dusk, vinegar. We could probably do with some kind of random word selector, really. In the meantime I've just used words from the last two songs I listened to. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jayseven Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 The whisky was clouded like dusk, but my heart was a quenchless bottle, ever eager to pump this destitute vinegar around my corpse of a body. "it's too late" "it's never, never too late, son." He preached. He always preached. The barrel's grave light, neither warning not to come closer nor daring us to leave it's vision burned shadows onto his face, highlighting that ugly beard of his, that knitted brow under his hood. He rubs his hole-ful gloves over the flames, too cold to notice them singeing his fingertips. "Lord knows as well as you 'bout that. Look at you, sippin' and belchin'. Is it too late to stop before the bottle empties? Your own fate is sittin' in a great wine cellar someplace, still capped and unopened, you just gotta find it." "Bullshit." I tried to get up but the wall that was leaning on me just refused to let me go. "The bottle empties itself." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
EEVILMURRAY Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 Giveussomeworrrdds. Uzi 9, or 10. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Bard Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 The whisky was clouded like dusk, but my heart was a quenchless bottle, ever eager to pump this destitute vinegar around my corpse of a body. "it's too late" "it's never, never too late, son." He preached. He always preached. The barrel's grave light, neither warning not to come closer nor daring us to leave it's vision burned shadows onto his face, highlighting that ugly beard of his, that knitted brow under his hood. He rubs his hole-ful gloves over the flames, too cold to notice them singeing his fingertips. "Lord knows as well as you 'bout that. Look at you, sippin' and belchin'. Is it too late to stop before the bottle empties? Your own fate is sittin' in a great wine cellar someplace, still capped and unopened, you just gotta find it." "Bullshit." I tried to get up but the wall that was leaning on me just refused to let me go. "The bottle empties itself." Nice work dude . That reminded me a little of One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest for some reason...where Chief's talking about his father, and how "the bottle began to drink from him..." Don't know why though lol... That same bottle of port’s been perched on the brink of the window sill since he drifted there, slowly turning to vinegar, just waiting for some happy, accidental shudder to let it spill its guts out on the bed. The December afternoon was listless as ever, and in the dusk, with heavy gray clouds smothering the receding light, so that everything was seen in a dampened hue, he wondered why even the Sun’s relentless chide was diminishing. His side of the bed was chilly and it would be…pleasurable…to just turn over and allow life to elude him for another short eternity, but it drained him, lying there. Shifting himself upright and, perceiving the dull pain of the naked burn on his arm, stuck the remainder of last night’s joint vaguely between his lips. The medication was all he had left, and it was all he could do to bleed his protesting heart, in vain avoidance of the inevitable confrontation with his own nature. Lol. That was fun. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jayseven Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 it's funny how anecdotal creative writing is, isn't it? How's about we all just throw five words down, ey? Catharsis, rumble, tricks, penitance, unsavoury Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Bard Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 More like frightening. Anyway, words... Magnanimous, silent, rapturous, Eden, water. That's should result in an interesting story... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jayseven Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 I'm always tempted to just put them in as few sentances as possible and see where it goes from there... But I won't this time. I'll also try to do it in teh same scene as before. _ "I can't solve it. Not alone." The silence* was always there, lurking in the shadows of conversation, like those gaps between branches where the sky peeps through; nameless and unnoticed. Yet he had to ignore it, and maintain a facade of rapturous enthusiasm; just nod and smile, return teh attention. He never questioned why nobody else noticed, and was certain that if they could they would not appear so magnanimous about it all. It was his secret, his weight to carry and resolve. The preacher was back, bathed in the urine-soaked glow of an old barrel fire beneath the bridge, unable to cease his babbling on subjects he knew nothing about - unfounded and limitless. The man with the secret knew long ago that it was pointless trying to tell him this, and continued sucking on the teat of a quart of Ol' Mary, gulping it down like water from the garden of Eden, as if each drop was all that was true. "It's too late" Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Bard Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 We sat in that bright, forgotten cellar, the three of us, and reveled in it. The ethereal rumble of the bass and the harmonious, beautiful aria that made speech seem like the most jarring, ineloquent form of communication. It wasn't something we heard, or something that offered us simply some vague, cathartic template we could impose meaning unto. We felt it, and what we felt, we always have done, but that in this glorious sound, we became sensitive to our own awareness, like the sons of god we ravaged that unsavoury fruit, and it made us whole. Penitence? What serpent tricks us into perceiving our heritage as a sin? _ That was awkward. Woohoo. Next...hopefully get some dialogue in the next one... Words, jay! I need more words! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aimless Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 With his frail lips Man smacks away the unsavoury taste of penitence that lingers upon the tip of his tongue. He draws his last breath with a defiant rumble. A final thought before the end, the last of hubris' tricks a grasp at validation and catharsis: I am the master, with me dies the world. A flower blooms amidst a concrete jungle. Rivers break their dams to water's rapturous applause. Sun-broke clouds continue onward in their never-ending journey. Earth, magnanimous to the last, observes the death of humanity's reign in silence. She does not speak the obvious truth: they were never in charge. She is too wise for bitterness, too hardy to mourn. A new era beckons, but the planet remains steadfast. A forever silent Eden. ------- Thought I'd try something a bit different this time; it has a message and everything. The closest I usually get to that sort of thing is, "Next time you'll know not to bother reading what that guy wrote." As an aside, I think you both have drinking problems. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Bard Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 Wow, we're getting some great writing here . Ok, I'll start with some more words if no one else wants to... Blood, platitude, fear, desert, audacious. First five words that came into my head Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jayseven Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 Aimless: As always, just great. I'm never one to call a cheat on the combination of words - i'm sure that made it trickier :P As for the drinking problems... well shucks, the word "bottle" doesn't help that. But yes, I think I agree there. Ok, here's 5 words from me. I'll do something with your words when I have more than three minutes on the computer, Bard! 1917, ophthalmologist, archbishop, carnival, phonemes... harsh. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ashley Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 You all settled down kiddies? Good. Let me tell you the story of my youth. That time I met the archbishop I've mentioned before. Well, its about time I told you about the very first time we met. Now I know you see me as old and past it, but believe me when I tell it it was not in 1917. I am not quite that old, it was 1987. Well. There I was at the local carnival admiring the attractions, as you do when it rolls into town once a year. I was there with some special ladyfriend of the time, but truth be told I forget her name so lets call her blahblah. Anyway, there me and blahblah were admiring the attractions when a sudden commotion...commoted. As they do. I pushed amongst the crowds and saw that the archbishop had just rolled into town. I approached the gentlemen and selecting the best phonemes I could muster I uttered out a simple "s'up?" It was then.... I can tell im losing interest. You know we end up close, and all that. He's the one who inspired me to be an ophthalmologist afterall. Not sure what was with the HIMYM vibe. skyline, pineapple, organ, vibe, Uganda Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Bard Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 1917...the last bounteous year for any man looking to jump ship, as the institution of male authority became ever less unquestionable. The heir’s vindication, palpable, as the world promised by their fathers dissolves into the twilight, manifested itself in that colossal vent of frustration known as the Great War. They left for Europe, allied with that arcane island still governed by monarchs and archbishops. Some men went in search for a cause, perhaps for a glimpse of the drive that propels the American Dream. Others went in search of death. These same men returned, restless, yearning for release, but not at the price of admission. There was no hero’s welcome for them, they returned amidst a wake of change so that what little they called home in the world was unfamiliar. The prohibition tried to pry them from the dregs of their last comfort, so that the vindication returned blazing strong, as they turned against the very laws they had staked their lives to uphold. It was the jazz age. We all conducted ourselves according to our own moral perspectives, drinking whatever bootlegged whiskey came our way, unquestioning and indifferent. We were alive, and it was all that we were really sure of, this dwindling vitality. The hilarity of the situation…it all resembled a carnival, at least, in terms of the careless way in which we lived, although with none of the innocence… Can I say, then that I have no regrets? No, as I sit here, with the Ophthalmologist, shaking his head both in homiletic victory and mock sympathy, as he mutters to me in near indistinguishable Jersey phonemes, “We have a problem.” “Oh?” “You’ve been drinking the wrong stuff, Jeff, and the damage is done. We can’t fix your eyes, son, and the numbness will spread.” In preemptory bitterness, all I could muster was a bleak “If only.” Ok. I’m not sure that 1917 counts as a word as such…but what the hell…it spawned the most retarded bullshit I've ever written . I should stop watching Fear and Loathing. Oh...and more words... Darkness, visible (PL!! :p), corporeal, thunder, peace Hows that for an odd combination :p. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Goron_3 Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 Bard, you use words i've never even heard before! You're writing is too awesome. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Bard Posted January 1, 2008 Share Posted January 1, 2008 Bard, you use words i've never even heard before! You're writing is too awesome. Thankyoo ...although I'm not sure it's good if you don't know what the words mean o_0... . Why don't you write one? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
fex Posted January 1, 2008 Author Share Posted January 1, 2008 (edited) As the Darkness began to steal the day light of the summer sun. I noticed the shadows becoming less visible as they became one with the dark night. The air was a little cooler than usual, yet the crisp clean air provided an excellent apparatus for defense. Visibility was almost non-existent, my survival was purely deponent on the smell and the sound around me. I was at peace with the earth, I was at war with the beasts. The only reason I had survived this far, was simply because of the corporeal the gods had provided. The clear night sky which had once been covered with diamonds, had now become plagued with violent black clouds, this was the gods way of telling me that the night would not be sympathetic with my weak, weary body. The sky lit up a bright yellow for a spilt second allowing me to scan the horizon for them. One, Two, Three I counted then a fearsome roar of thunder shook the ground behind me. It had begun. I had major trouble using corporeal (nature of the body) I hope I can get away with that. I've never been amazing at expressing my thoughts in story format, even though I can really feel it inside. Next set of words - Suitable, Coincidental, Panicky, Boots and Nail ________ WELLBUTRIN WITHDRAW Edited April 28, 2011 by fex Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Bard Posted January 2, 2008 Share Posted January 2, 2008 Your use of corporeal is a little suspect. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mundi Posted January 2, 2008 Share Posted January 2, 2008 Some would say our meeting was coincidental but i believed it to be fate at the time. I was at a bar when i met her, what i was doing there i was not sure but that isn´t important. I looked at her from top to button, over and over again, from her boots, her breasts and her beautiful round eyes. She was suitable for me.... No perfect and i knew it! I stood up, downed the rest that was in my glass and tried to get trough my panicky state. "I can do this" I said to myself and walked towards her. "Interested in some good time? Because i can show you some" She checked me out, laughed and promptly said: " I´m twice your age and twice out of my league. You must be the most optimistic man around to think you can nail something like me" Before i could answer she walked out of the bar and out of my life. I sat back down ordered another drink and waited for fate to walk back in and get me out of here. Words: Black Dry Bed Bottle River Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Roostophe Posted January 2, 2008 Share Posted January 2, 2008 Rick woke up with the unwanted feeling of a dry mouth, and an enormous thirst. He climbed out of his four-poster bed, and took a few small steps from his sleeping quarters to his kitchen. Here, he took a bottle of milk from out the fridge, and gulped the white stuff down like a bastard. There was nothing left in the bottle, so he threw the empty bottle into a black bin-bag. Then he went outside, and took a slash in the river that lay behind his house. He did this because his toilet was broken, and he just could not be bothered to fix it. The lazy necrophiliac! Words: Condensation, Illegal, Unwanted, Strawberry, Suriname. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Letty Posted January 2, 2008 Share Posted January 2, 2008 I had never realised how wide the sea was, until I decided one day to cross it with my own self. I had made the necessary preparations, such as learning to breath underwater, and how to go without food for months at a time. It all began when my family had made me feel unwanted at the family christmas party, after I had popped some party poppers into my little sister's eyes. 'Such a shame.' thought I, as I cackled madly, running towards the sea. I was wearing nothing but a speedo and a scuba mask, and was feeling so sexy that I should have been illegal! I decided that on my jounrey, I should swim past France, Turkey, Mexico, New Zealand, and Suriname. I'd pick up some presents for my blinded sister aswell, to show there were no hard feelings. I wiped the condensation from the insides of my goggles one last time, before splashing into the surf. Jesus it was freezing! But that didn't matter, I was breaking records left right and centre. Eventually, I died, and my copse washed up on a small island. To my suprise, a lonely soul discovered me, and ate me, accompinied by a single strawberry. The end. Words: Concealed Aubergine Coagulate Blonde Horse Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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