A lot of changes here. Looking forward to catching up with you all. Cheers to Tob, the best of us tonight!
I am sure those of you in the know have already stumbled on Gotye, if not check it out on Youtube. I recommend “heart’s a mess” and “somebody that I used to know”. Think Peter Gabriel and Sting had a love child raised on Pink Floyd and Deathcab for Cutie. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GnXFJOXvL_A
Just dreaming out loud here for a moment. There has been far too much time between visits and get togethers over the past couple of years. Understandable, of course. I am wondering what holiday plans might look like and if we dare dream up a kid-a-palooza event for somewhere down the road. There are too many great kiddos out there now with no real knowledge of the others. Perhaps we could plan something for next summer. i know a place in the mountains that may have enough space and may be cost-effective…just sayin’
Fortunately, our writing is much better than these contest winners! However, these provide a wonderful laugh.
Bulwer-Lytton Contest Winners
For all lovers of good writing, here are this year’s winners of the Bulwer-Lytton contest, (aka “It Was a dark and Stormy Night” Contest) run by the English Department of San Jose State University, wherein one writes only the first line of a bad novel.
10. As a scientist, Throckmorton knew that if he were ever to break wind in the echo chamber, he would never hear the end of it.
9. Just beyond the Narrows, the river widens.
8. With a curvaceous figure that Venus would have envied, a tanned unblemished oval face framed with lustrous thick brown hair, deep azure-blue eyes fringed with long black lashes, perfect teeth that vied for competition, and a small straight nose, Marilee had a beauty that defied description.
7. Andre, a simple peasant, had only one thing on his mind as he crept along the East wall: “Andre creep… Andre creep…Andre creep.”
6. Stanislaus Smedley, a man always on the cutting edge of narcissism, was about to give his body and soul to a back alley sex-change surgeon to become the woman he loved.
5. Although Sarah had an abnormal fear of mice, it did not keep her from eking out a living at a local pet store.
4. Stanley looked quite bored and somewhat detached, but then penguins often do.
3. Like an over-ripe beefsteak tomato rimmed with cottage cheese, the corpulent remains of Santa Claus lay dead on the hotel floor.
2. Mike Hardware was the kind of private eye who didn’t know the meaning of the word “fear;” a man who could laugh in the face of danger and spit in the eye of death — in short, a moron with suicidal tendencies.
AND THE WINNER IS…
1. The sun oozed over the horizon, shoved aside darkness, crept along the greensward, and, with sickly fingers, pushed through the castle window, revealing the pillaged princess, hand at throat, crown asunder, gaping in frenzied horror at the sated, sodden amphibian lying beside her, disbelieving the magnitude of the frog’s deception, screaming madly, “You lied!”
and these: The new 2009 crop of Bulwar-Lytton winners are pretty good, too. Here’s the winners in the Detective category:
She walked into my office on legs as long as one of those long-legged birds that you see in Florida – the pink ones, not the white ones – except that she was standing on both of them, not just one of them, like those birds, the pink ones, and she wasn’t wearing pink, but I knew right away that she was trouble, which those birds usually aren’t.
Sun Prairie, WI
The dame sauntered silently into Rocco’s office, but she didn’t need to speak; the blood-soaked gown hugging her ample curves said it all: “I am a shipping heiress whose second husband was just murdered by Albanian assassins trying to blackmail me for my rare opal collection,” or maybe, “Do you know a good dry cleaner?”
Los Angeles, CA
The appearance of a thin red beam of light under my office door and the sound of one, then two pair of feet meant my demise was near, that my journey from gum-shoe detective to international agent had gone horribly wrong, until I realized it was my secretary teasing her cat with a laser pointer.
"Overman would be proud," I mumbled to myself after hearing the second Elvis song in a row at 8:05 yesterday morning.
Yup, he would be ecstatic that if there was one thing carried over from my high school education, that I could recall Elvis Presley’s birthday with minimal prompting would be it. So I thought about Elvis, quite a bit, in fact. He was hard to escape yesterday, his music on the agency’s sound system all day. I think I may have been growing a bouffant hairdo during this barrage on my sanity.
Thanks, JE, for hosting Amanda and me last weekend. We had a wonderful time and were thoroughly inundated with artistic inspirations at every turn. I left with more motivation to return to my artistic nature than I have felt in a super long time, it was good for my soul. I would like to incorporate one of my current creative thoughts/challenges with the group. My proposal is that we craft a worthy children’s story with animation, a good message/lesson (perhaps like a fable) that would be timeless in nature and be something that our children would incorporate into their lives and share with their children. I recognize the huge undertaking here, but I think we definately have the talent between the lot of us to put something together. I have seen middle school projects where their work has been made into quality hardback form. Perhaps we could find something like this and have nicely bound copies that could be in each of our homes. I would think the logical place to start would be with the story’s arc and outline. I would like to extend this challenge to each of you. I would really like to be able to share the collective wisdom of our friendships with my child/children. So, who’s with me? Any thoughts about characters and stories?
On a second note- I am going to do some work on a graphic novel (semi-inspired by Maus) based on a character I will call Promi the Squirell, who steals a flaming marshmallow from a suburban fire pit. My initial sketches ceertainly aren’t of the caliber of Ned’s but, whacha gonna do?