Should you ever reach that point where all hope is gone, take comfort in the fact that the very concept of hope means that’s not actually the point you are at, or at least you’d better hope not.
If you're seeing this, it's because you don't know about Scrine's newest feature - tag subscriptions. If you have a favorite tag, visit the tag's page and click the subscribe button. Easy as that. Then sit back and enjoy the randomness of your favorite tags appearing before your very eyes.
As inspired by: Keith's Tax Dog, At Your Service
After seven months of extensive training, which included daily beating the pit-bull quite severely with a club fashioned from old 1040 instruction books, feeding the dog only raw steaks wrapped in audit papers retrieved from the dumpster behind the local IRS office, and finally starving the animal for a week, Ted was looking forward to Mr. Anderson’s next visit.
After seven long years of extensive training, Thaddeus finally felt comfortable handing the accounting over to his dog.
Much to Lydia’s consternation, the trial court refused to consider her having an earworm stuck in her head—specifically “No! No! A Thousand Times No!”—as an affirmative defense in Jethro’s tort battery action against her.
I’ve never met a superhero whose hair needed combing.
One prospective realtor sent me a card with a big smiley face drawn on it, and a nice note letting me know that she was “hardworking, responsible, active, and…”—my favorite part—“...dependent.”
Which is why I’m going to sit here and have this piece of coffee cake and drink my coffee and figure out exactly how to lose 10 pounds.
Names are such a brief attempt to label ourselves that they often sadden me when I think that what they really are is a label for our own impatience.
in regards to the spammers that are waging war against keith, and therefore, me and a few other of my friends: lemme at em, i’ve got all my carving tools out and lined up.
Idiocrat; it means exactly what it sounds like it means.
As inspired by: Jo's Degrade THIS!
As the killer spun Jo around he couldn’t believe what he was seeing—that was no lazy eye staring back at him, but a laser eye!—but it was too late now as Jo opened wide, her blinding particle beam vision making quick work of the assailant.
I’m a little curious what type of creature is eating the pumpkin guts from my back porch at night, and should probably stay up sometime to thank it properly for helping me clean up.
Degraded, she cursed Typepad, reducing it to a smoldering ruin with her laser eyeball.
It was true—Richard killed, and killed for fun—but he was always quick to point out that he only killed people with lazy eyes.
Back before there where any sinners in the world, Hell was such a lonely place that the Devil invented solitaire.
“I can promise you this, Alfred,” Margaret told her husband over dinner, “I have never intentionally served you anything poisonous very often.”
And so, the Horsemen of the Apocalypse stared at him, and he at them, and knowing full well it could not end well for him, Reginald repeated his demand “that’ll be 3 silvers and a bronze…each” because it was company policy that no one, bar no one, received discounts on low margin horseshoes.
Zara immediately realized she had walked into the wrong building when, instead of stamp machines, she found aphid dispensers and a colorful array of locust larvae; but oddly enough, the music coming from tiny speakers in the ceiling was exactly the same.
I hope one day that darksteve’s sentence count closes in on steve’s, and that as the dark and ominous day of their epic battle approaches, and the Internet rumbles and shakes with fear (lots of Google hits), that Scriners in every land will don armor and helmet and unsheath mighty swords to fight side by side with the army of sentence trolls in the one battle that will decide the fate of humanity.
Jeremiah was a certain green amphibian with whom I was in close aquaintence…he was quite difficult to comprehend but his taste in alcoholic drinks was quite impeccible.
I have no idea…I wasn’t a normal 2 year old.
The devil didn’t consider himself evil by intent, he just really liked knitting, a lot, could do it all day in fact, and couldn’t see why the others shouldn’t to.
I like this end of daylight savings better than the other, because that hour I wasted playing Tetris this morning didn’t actually happen—unlike last spring when it happened twice.
As I listened to someone who annoys me complain about why other people annoy her I thought to myself, “Man, that’s exactly what annoys me about you!” but then I thought, “Hey, what if you’re talking about me?”
My son and I waste the morning’s entire extra hour arguing over who was the better piano player - Little Richard or Jerry Lee Lewis.
My kid still hasn’t forgiven me, not for telling her when she was three years old that the refrigerator light was controlled by tiny little elves who live inside, but for taking it back years later.
Every year in October, Becky Heckle would lead a small group of insomniacs down to the graveyard to curse and spit at the grave of Benjamin Franklin, considered by the group as the inventor* of the world’s worst idea ever.
* You want a piece of this, William?
Helen knew capitalism had gone too far when, upon encountering a five cent coin whilst vacuuming, she did not immediately stop to pick it up but instead first wondered if it was worth her time to do so.
“Yes, Ma’at, as the goddess of truth, order and justice I’m sure you are a very good realtor and would sell my home quickly at a fair and honest price, but what I want to know is this - would you be wearing that ostrich feather on your head during open houses?”
Whilst generally considered by his mother to be somewhat of a failure at life, Walter was to go home from the awards ceremony - which he attended as a seat filler - as the winner of the Best Foreign Film Director category because the actual director, who was all set to appear in public for the very first time, refused to attend on account of not being able to find two matching socks anywhere in his whole damn house but neglected to tell anyone; noone but Walter noticed and he certainly wasn’t going to say anything, why should he? it was about time his ship came in.
Once every forty-millionth time, my son pees straight as an arrow and it doesn’t hit the rim or the floor, and my heart is filled with gladness; the rest of the time, of course, it is filled with the smell of urine.
“I only clean up elephant shit part-time down at the circus,” James told Barbara as they ate their cotton candy, “and only when they’re in town once a year; but down at City Zoo I get to do it full-time, plus the benefits are great, except, of course, no free leftover cotton candy at the end of the day,” which made them both laugh.
In space, they say, no one can hear you scream, whereas the force unleashed when one spacewalking astronaut gives another a wedgie travels through the universe and destroys everything in its path.
I am the reed thread that ties us together!
He didn’t care what it said about his character, without his pearl-handled walking stick, Percy felt naked.
Because people here treat me with the respect and affection, and they let me have the self-confidence that I deserve. So fuck you, I’m doing great.
The trip through the desert had been exhausting- Lucy was parched and barely able to stand in the torment of her corset a moment longer; she snatched the bottle of johnnie walker off the mantel between two delicate strong fingers, then collapsed into the chair behind the desk with a audible puff, a few crinkles and a sigh, it had been a long night, with more belligerent drunks than ever before stuffed into the plywood shack, shaking the floors with their stumbling roars.
Gilbert reflected during his lengthy recovery that despite all the advice Mavis had given him about the joy one feels when giving back to one’s community, it was in fact a very bad idea to volunteer to man the sausage-making stall at the village fair just prior to attending his job as a police dog trainer.
“It’s fun to stay at the…”
I have no idea what it means, but it just came into my head.
My son and I both hate fresh strawberry shakes, but only because they’re hard to chug.
You know how you said that you’d get back to me, how you weren’t quite sure and you needed to think about it…it’s been 10 months…keep me posted.
Okay, who’s in for how much on the betting pool for how far that meter measuring The Constant Hand makes it by 11/30/2006?
At the edge of dusk Shen waited patiently for the arrival, his breath slow and measured.
I’m fairly sure this has been said before, but spam is getting more interesting these days: “in the likeness of a hedgehog, he would lie tumbling in Caliban’s way, to spurn me with his…”
“Just get on with it,” hissed the rusty metal bird in the corner of her screen.
Having accidentally shot his own imagination with the shrink ray gun (which he would have sworn was unloaded), Timmy decided to watch TV.
Most don’t know this, but Adam’s job in the Garden of Eden was to clean out the lint trap—a big, ponderous thing with a filter eight feet wide and twelve feet tall that sucked up all of nature’s lint, which wasn’t as much as one would expect, considering there were no sweatshirts or bathrugs, terrycloth towels or blankets—but unfortunately, Adam was not only not very good at the job, but sort of lazy, praying in sick at least once a week, sometimes more, which eventually made God so mad that he fired Adam and hired the monkeys (who loved the job and had loads of fun with all the lint!), which of course embarrassed Adam so much that he left the Garden forever, dragging poor, unsuspecting Eve along behind him.
After slipping in through a side door completely unnoticed, Low Self-Esteem Man was able to foil the bank robbery by telling several childhood stories, depressing the would-be robbers to a point that they finally turned themselves over without incident to the waiting authorities; no customers were injured during the robbery, although several have complained the superhero’s quick and heroic actions have forced them into counseling.
I try not to be the sort of person who forces her tastes on others (because as cute as Natalie Portman is, when she told Zach Braff to “listen to this song, it’ll change your life” I kinda wanted to puke, on her) but I think it’s pretty much necessary that I tell everyone I know that they simply must read The Poisonwood Bible; and since I’ve just finished my third read, now seems like the time; and while we’re on the subject may I also recommend Ladysmith Black Mambazo as supplementary listening?
I bet in Heaven no one is ever asked if they want to play Monopoly, but that in Hell, it happens all the time.
I know there are some who worry incessantly that ducks are up to no good, but personally, it’s the terror bird I’m losing sleep over.
If I look as bad as I feel, I won’t need a costume this year.
As she stepped off the train, the Village People’s YMCA started belting out of her iPod and, almost simultaneously, she rounded the corner to see them; the Cowboy and the Indian.
Sometimes, there’s just no other word for it.
It’s going on all the time, but it’s a damn fine thing.
“And let us remember Kyle as a kind, gentle, and certainly simple soul, keeping in mind that he joined the Rescue Rangers out of compassion and concern for the general welfare of all animals, and that his joining came immediately after viewing the Rangers’ training video, Baby Raccoons, Cute and Cuddly, although in hindsight, perhaps things would have turned out much differently if he’d begun his Rangers’ career with something that might have ended up saving his young life, and I speak here specifically about the Rangers’ video The Bear Cage: Why We Stay Out.”
the hardest thing right now is deciding not if, but when, to quit one’s second job:is it worth it for the money which could pay off another card, or is it counterproductive for the medical bills which undoubtedly will ensue for the black lung backing up on one’s health report before the insurance kicks in AND, if it’s worth black lung, how worth it, maybe another week’s worth, or a month, maybe a couple more coughs but certainly not a spell?
you know their real name, you just won’t say it, say it! say it! there is one person, just one out there in this great big world to who(m) that powerful phrase should be uttered (softly, in the ear in the middle of a crowded room).
There are a lot of things I’ve never said in real life, like damn straight and who loves you, babe.
“For the third time this week,” the shop foreman yelled at the mechanics, “hubris is not a type of axle grease, you ignorant morons, so stop arguing about it and get back to work!”
As the multi-hued birds landed on the heads of the various wildebeests and giant mamals, the contents inside of the red, red rose started to shake and to shimmer.
The books I ordered weeks ago with my birthday money finally arrived today, but just last night I started reading another book while I waited and then started another for my train ride this morning* now I have to finish both of those first.
* Because every serious reader knows there are some books that can be read on the train, and others that can’t.
In the past 5 days, I’ve had 5 (count ‘em, 5) mangoes.
So, I’ve packed one box of books, which means that all that’s left to do is pack or sell everything else, clean up so I can contact a realtor and sell the house, somehow get rid of two acres of nursery stock, relocate the business while finishing up this year’s projects before the fall rains set in for good, and find something for dinner tonight.
The fun in learning a second language is relaxed and beautiful, until you get to the insults and then it’s just silly.
Juan mourned the death of the siesta.
Bill’s sarcasm stunk of cheap wine and stale cigarette smoke, and clung to the room like lipstick on the edge of Edith’s favorite shot glass.
The smells of aged wood and fresh hay, machinery and tools oiled against the damp, gasoline and rotting grass trapped under a mower deck, dust and manure, all work to carry my memory not only forward, but back thirty years or more to another barn in another time, where as a boy I labored under so many of those same, exact smells, intensified in my memory somehow by the intense cold of those early morning Iowa winters, which made the barn a safe haven from the forty below air outside.
As the bus pulled away from the curb, Carl wondered just how many revolutions began after a short ride on public transportation.
Not being much of a mastermind, Carl later admitted to Lucy, although somewhat reluctantly, that not only had he not come up with the overthrow plot, but that he’d been forty minutes late for the start of the revolution because he hadn’t been able to find his car keys.
The tall man said ‘cake’ and a scrabble board appeared from nowhere, hovered for a while and landed with a clunk on the table - many of the guests tried to avert their eyes but really - it was just too late.
Keith, who portrayed himself on the Internet as a middle-aged man but was, in reality, an eighth grade science student at Adams Middle School, was quite excited about the upcoming science fair competition, where he would finally be able to share the results of his two-year experiment, which had explored, among many things, the idea of creating false memories for people by creating sentences for them on a website, then displaying them a year later so that he could observe the individual’s reaction to their so-called “memory”.
Nefarious Ned was more than a little disappointed that the club’s proffered pints of ‘dark ichor’ turned out to only be guinness.
Sometimes music makes you laugh, sometimes it makes you dance, sometimes it makes you hum, but sometimes, oh sometimes, it makes you burn; burn with love, burn with fire, burn with pain.
As Buddy grew nearer to retirement age, those old dreams of world travel and life-fulfilling pursuits, which had sustained him through the tedious decades, suddenly loomed too large, too disturbingly accessible, for comfort.
Having just eaten his body weight in pot roast, Hank barely had room for desert.
“Sometimes I think,” said Minnie from her chair across the room, “that college is just a way of getting more people to come to your funeral.”
I’ve spent a good part of today wondering why a steamroller is called a steamroller—I mean, where’s the steam—and have almost gotten out of the car at two, no, make that three road construction sites today to ask, but then thought to myself, “What if it’s a deep, dark construction secret, and anyone who asks gets immediately steamrolled into the highway surface (side note: I’m a large enough man that I do believe I would require a second pass), and no one tells my family what happened to me or feeds the dog or changes the cat litter (okay, I admit, no one does that last one much anyway).
I’ve never felt more dizzy than I do today - not when I’ve gotten married, not when I became a father, not ever.
Rock and roll to the beat of the funk-fuzz; wipe your feet really good on the rhythm rug; if you feel the urge to freak, do the jitterbug.
Dr. Lester had always wanted to take out a pistol and shoot holes in his wife’s tea cups—not blast them apart, but just neat, little round holes that would make Esther and that whole stuffy bunch of friends of hers sit up and take notice—and now, as the newly appointed head of the vitreous china research and development lab, he was finally in a position to make his dream come true.
When you meet someone for the first time and they say ‘Ah!’ in a knowing manner right before they announce your ‘pre-assigned headline’ in Title Case (for example: ‘Ah! The Housemate’, ‘Ah! The Ex’, ‘Ah! The One With Her Thumb On Fire’, etc) - you know that their first impression of you happened in your absence.
We can’t actually protect ourselves from the big things, but at least we can prevail when it comes to moths in the cupboard.
I wasn’t homesick until my dad left.
They think they know, but kids (don’t know).
If someone told me that I was just like freshly baked bread, I wonder if I’d think they meant I was soft and smelled good and had the ability to absorb great quantities of butter, or whether I’d just think of the hard crust.
This morning I interrupted two hawks behind the barn, who were busy playing a game of extreme makeover with a dead opossum.
Lucy couldn’t dance to save her life, but she could two putt like nobody’s business- making her an immensely popular fourth in something called ‘best ball’ tournaments
My dad arrived with a small suitcase full of goodies just for me: cookies from my grandma, cookies and ancho-tomatillo sauce from my mom, green sauce from him, oboe music, and best of all he arrived and gave me a big hug and called me kiddo.
First, I swerved around an orphan construction cone, lying in the middle of the road, next a trash can and a recycling bin and soon after that a couple of bags of clothes and a baby stroller, but a mile down the road when I locked my brakes up to stop for an entire flatbed-load of lumber spread across the highway, I decided to back up to the blind corner a couple hundred yards back, throw out a road flare and slow down traffic until the cops showed up because this dream clearly was not going to reach any type of destination any time soon and I might as well settle in and make myself useful.
Oh boy oh boy oh boy, my daddy’s on a plane heading my way and I just can’t wait.
I bet no one thinks of this Cyndi when they hear the name Lauper.
We should all be grateful we live on a watery planet.
Oh wait, that’s not quite right, I know Mark Foley and I’m no Mark Foley; what I’ve really just discovered is Charlotte Smith who has Just Discovered Boys and will make you tap your toes.
If I could write in key, like, for instance, the key of C, I think it would improve things by leaps and bounds.
thought Juan as he bravely (foolishly?) ate that last, week-old piece of chocolate cake in office fridge.
No matter how many times Bob happened to walk by the mailroom, the crew did not offer him a slice of their birthday cake.
They are lurking right outside - I sense them! - preparing to pounce on me and force me to perform mendacities on my own spreadsheets.
As inspired by: 'mouse's Crossroads
Lucy, however, had seen her deal with the devil come to fruition; when she was least expecting it and needed good news like oxygen- her bankruptcy case was discharged.
Sir, with the robots on strike, I’m afraid we have no alternative other than to ask the gentlemen—oh, God forbid it has come to this!—yes, we must ask the gentlemen to go to work.
As inspired by: Keith's ‘Ol Scratch And I Go Way Back
Bo was feeling rather frustrated, because after spending hundreds of nights—many dark and stormy—standing around at midnight at country crossroads, he had caught cold, been eaten alive by mosquitos, was sprayed by a skunk once and and had nearly been killed by drunk drivers several times, but never once had the devil showed up to offer him a deal.
Sadly, after a lifetime of deals at a dozen different crossroads, I still don’t play guitar.
Wanda rolled over, stared blearily at the alarm clock, whimpered a little when she realized it was Friday, not Saturday, and then staggered toward the icey shower which would start her day.
after cleanup, and if we have time, is when i let them ask me any question they want about anything in the whole world and if i don’t know the answer, i tell them, i will look it up so i that can tell them later, which is what made it so surprisingly hard that i hadn’t seen it coming when, today, one young lady put her hand up and quietly queried “are we going to have another war?”
I’m just gonna say it: the piano is the coolest instrument ever.
There is nothing to be afraid of; it’s just a day.
This place promises to be, my friend, not only everything that we had imagined, but much more—so much more!—and after being here only for a few short hours, I found myself fearing that I had waited too long to make this journey, and that there would not be enough good years left in this body of mine to last long enough to grasp the entirety of this place, and yet, I also found those same fears fading the longer I remained, and the further into the valley my steps took me, the more the fear began to dissipate, until finally I had walked so far in that the fear was gone completely, and it was at that place, and at that moment, that I resolved that I had truly arrived at the end of my long journey.
You can love your job all you want, but after several 12-hour workdays in a row, it’s gonna start making a person a wee bit grumpy.
I can only imagine what must have gone through the mind of the local after-school program advisor, when I introduced myself at the gas station and discussed volunteering to write an entire prospectus, so the program can apply for grant money and I can graduate.
I walked beside the barefoot king, and for the briefest of moments, with that soft, warm water lapping gently at our ankles, I felt the tremendous weight of his kingdom, the feeling that he must have felt with his every waking moment, and I nearly cried out, fearing that I would be pushed down into the sand and buried alive if it had gone on even one second longer.
We need more of it.
I am the Internet’s shining example that moderation and honesty, sexiness and science can all share a bed with no one getting kicked or crowded, just as I am that beacon of blue light, shining true in the face of adversity, helping complete strangers across the street in simpler times, my steps squeaky clean and filled with the misguided enthusiasm of a Boy Scout, proud of his honor and duty, his clean underwear hidden from the world, and his freshly pressed kerchief, slapping stiffly at his chest with his every step.
First name it, then write it - that’s my new motto!
Juan awoke confused from the dream in which the giant 120-foot tall noble fir tree in his front yard fell across the street, completely destroying his neighbor’s house, because there was no such tree in his yard and he had no harsh feelings about his neighbor.
the king blinks slyly, indicating that there’s at least one move left in this game: dammit! i let the king in on my secret that i was certain, if only one move was left, that it wasn’t my move we were waiting on.
Publicly disgraced, the Swansons had no choice but to withdraw from the country club after word got around that their eldest, Reid, had been dismissed from the Peace Corp for fighting.
At least I had sense enough to stop discussing the case after my son suggested that maybe a robot had committed the murder.
After weighing the relative merits, Charlie nixed the idea of soup in favor of a nice hot bowl of marijuana.
All right, then you perky little blinking cursor - if you’re so smart, why don’t you write this sentence?
We have been the murdered and the murderers, and if my suspicions prove correct, it is only going to get worse.
today, i’ve accomplished at least one thing, i’ve filed for homestead exemption after 9 years in the Procrastination Cabinet, i drug it out, dusted it off and resolved it! i’m so psyched that i may accomplish one other thing before the day is out…
If it’s any consolation, Keith, I’d gladly drive up there to kick your computer’s ass.
What a disconnected world I live in; for instance, if I were to get really mad and pound down as hard as I could onto this computer’s mouse with my closed fist, the mouse would surely be broken, and maybe something in my hand, but after that—nothing!—the computer wouldn’t feel my anger or pain (unless of course you think of the mouse as part of the computer, but even then it wouldn’t actually feel anything, but rather experience the result of my emotion, which of course being made of mostly plastic (the mouse, not my emotion, although….), means very little to it), and with the exception that it might notice that the functionality of the mouse was lost (to which it would coldly offer not even the slightest reply or condolence) it would be business as usual for the computer and very little, as a matter of fact, exactly nothing would happen, except maybe a browser window popping open on the screen if things happened to be lined up just right at the moment of my anger.
There are many different ways to fall down in the shower, and I’m going to discover them all!
Henry feared his best ideas somehow drained out from his head while he slept, pooling in the back of his neck until finally he would sweat them out onto his pillow, which was always cold and damp when he woke up in the morning.
It’s a good thing that 888 sentences seem so far away that it’s unreal, because if I ever made it all the way there I’d have… to… stop...
“My Dear Mr. Smollet, I certainly was pleasantly surprised to receive your slightly musky letter and it was with abated breath and slightly flushed cheeks that I opened the envelope, yet as I read on I was most bemused and terribly confused as to your almost lurid use of the letter zed.”
The thin, airy wisps of light twirled and spun above the bed, mesmerizing, beckoning, calling to us so that we were tempted to sit up straight, only to be completely surprised when they then stuck in our hair like big wads of gum, pushed against our heads by something sensed, but unseen.
As inspired by: Randy's The Singeing of Hair
The tiny sentence gnome had slept for so long that when he finally did roll over, stretching and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, hundreds of little black periods spilled out from every pocket of his jacket, filling the bed and overflowing onto the cabin floor, where they piled up against the dog, busily gnawing on a half-eaten exclamation.
Some of you guys are up to hundreds and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of posts and I have seven. Well, I had seven until I posted this time (a disappointing post, I must admit). Now, I have eight. I’ve sacrificed the so-called heavenly number for something else and I don’t know what that something else is but it’s higher than seven, the so-called heavenly number, yeah? What’s beyond heavenly? Scrine, of course.
I am not waking up. I am merely rolling over in a fitful sleep.
When all other decent avenues have been cut off, it’s time to apply paint to paper; of course, if there are indecent avenues, they must be pursued first.
All my dreams about Canada (I have surprisingly many) take place in hotel rooms that look like somebody’s parents’ 1970s basement lounge; I hope Canada isn’t insulted.
Try on your outfit, complete with the controversial white shoes, and stand in front of a full length mirror, letting your eyes travel slowly from bottom to top; if you do not see a wedding dress above your feet, take off the damn shoes and store them until next June.
As inspired by: boot's I’ve been wanting to post this since visiting the birth-place of the author (Edgar Allan Poe)
I read, “And the silken, sad rusting of each purple curtain filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before… .”
Now that Raneck’s neural sensors could be accessed and controlled by the handheld remote, he was much more manageable.
As inspired by: The interplay between Pam and Boot
After lying in the cold, damp shadows all through the night while coven chanted and danced while they stirred the cauldron (yes, there were even a few rounds of “double-double toil and trouble,” in the predawn hours), the witches finally left and the watcher creeped up and looked into the cauldron which, to his delight, was filled with the smoothest, most wonderful lemon custard he’d ever tasted.
Juan reflected, as he cut up the tree, that of all of the skills he had learned in childhood, handling a chainsaw was the one that gave him the most satisfaction.
honored scrine button perched on the art hat (back view) where, admittedly, it’s been for a couple of weeks since i received it, but you know how it is….
Relegating grizzlies to Alaska is about like relegating happiness to heaven; one may never get there.
Either Shelby had a superhuman right hook, or the scruffy jerk two floors up was embarrassed by the fact that she slipped a punch in.
and somebody else mentioned last night as well, that this community of rusty birdwatchers here has served to pull some of us through some harrowing times when sometimes nothing else has done, and it will almost certainly contnue to do so for others, and for all of that i am mighty thankful; here’s lookin’ at you, bird.
Henry didn’t know what to think of all the new cars.
Mr. Smollet laid the sheet of paper on his desk, and in his bold, firm hand, wrote: My dear Miss Palaminia, It would please me greatly if you would accept my most humble and sincere apologies for any discomfort you may have suffered upon last we met, and if I may be so bold and outspoken, also offer my condolences to that monster of a dog you seem to love so dearly, and whom, after tossing me about for as long as he did, must now surely smell of skunk himself, which I assure you, was the thing I wished for least of all as I was being mauled yesterday afternoon.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Ole - no snowshoes in the bar!”
“Ding” went the bell as the light above the door lit up, and the next sentence strode confidently into the room.
As inspired by: Keith's The Unexpected Apocalypse
“Such nice manners,” remarked Wilford’s grandmother of the lovely horsemen she’d met during the Apocalypse, “and not too busy to set a spell and try my lemon custard tarts.”
As inspired by: Keith's "Miss Palamina's Word"
“Oh, my dear Mr. Smollet, you have blood on your handkerchief and this simply will not do.”
My needs are simple, really - it’s just hard to tell, what with all this crap lying around.
today i shall make pot roast.