I swear, like some people can detect that the rains are coming, I can detect the presence of Vikings and I swear there’s one somewhere nearby right now.
I’m sorry it took so long.
Lightning is faster than postcards. Why? It just is.
Chug raised a mini meatball to his mouth - savouring the tasted of the little bland ball from IKEA and looked at grud with a challenge in his eye… ‘go on then - make me something better’ which is why grud had erected her bbq on the sidewalk and was handing out meatballs to passers by - in her efforts to prove Chug insane and educate his taste buds she’d made beef meatballs, lamb meatballs, chicken meat balls and falafel blended meat balls and was on a crazy mission to re-educate the whole city.
Her sense of fairness left her indignant at the world much of the time.
They say that Pavarotti’s voice came from so deep down that sometimes while he was singing meatballs would pop out and roll across the stage, but I don’t for sure if it’s true, since I’m not a meatball expert.
Don’t feel too bad for the primitive vikings - while the men went out and fought to assure their places in Valhalla, the women stayed home and rolled meatballs; you haven’t lived till you’ve had a bisonball.
The night before the exam, frantically studying the Government Manual for New Superheroes, Juan was particularly taken aback with the new rules for spandex and thigh high, high heeled boots; who knew Posh Spice had taken a job with DOSH, the Department for the Superheroes and Heroism as Director of Wardrobe?
Juan had always aspired to be a superhero but it wasn’t until he had filled out his 15th ‘Accidental Destruction by Acts of Superheroes’ form, in triplicate at that, that he wondered if his mother wasn’t right in lamenting missed chances and dentist school.
Back in the Viking times, many Vikings were able to fight beyond death - Being able to fight on in a drug haze of adrenalin even tho they had lost an arm or leg or other parts of the body not even feeling it until the end came.
bake juju bake juju…lsatzap! bake juju…naronga alritey scrinersavvy lsatZAP!
So, I’m still working my way back through all forms of scrine with short trips off to forum before I get distracted by scrine blog and scrine tunes and - oh gee, have any wiki posts been added - not many, hmmm… what have we here - Keith was sick back in October and needed entertainment… and here I was hardly even getting to Scrine - I feel terrible, Keith please accept my belated apology and know that had I seen them I would have contacted you as they made me smile - which I know isn’t nice since you were sick and all but what can I say, I’m a bad person.
It’s true that things always get worse before they get better; there’s always the promise of the “better,” though by then you’re probably on a different cycle.
Back when the earth was still covered in greenery and where the air was fresh and people had some form of honour (even if it had to be proven by attacking one another with blunt swords) a short dark wiry celt stepped foot on the lands of the great viking warriors - things didn’t look so good for a few minutes there but then, from the mist, appeared a tall man holding a plate with something that might have been food - he pointed at it and said ‘cake’ and the small dark wiry celt transformed into a six foot red headed viking goddess with a particular talent for artistic endeavors.
This morning all the clouds in the sky were in streaks converging at a single point, which, thank God, was not in the direction of Bethlehem (since I’m low on frankincense and plumb out of faith) but was actually in the general direction of Salem, Oregon.
one of my professors was of the opinion that academia exists solely to keep academics occupied out of the way, but empirical evidence does exist in the form of my own memories of reagan signing prop 13, shortly after which we were all set loose on the streets, clutching our bus tickets to pacoima.
Every time the dog said, “Golly,” Rufus wanted to hit him on the nose with a newspaper, but my friend Schuster convinced him that what the dog needed wasn’t discipline, just better swear words.
Sometimes a random-play selection on the jukebox reminds you of someone (green) and has to be shared.
think i need to top up the drinks table for us outliers?
The empty coffee cup stared back at Wilson with its mocking, unblinking eye.
Lucy surveyed with watchful ears never taking her eyes from the chessboard; amazed by what people would say when they thought no one was listening.
Rufus thought it was beginning to feel like Christmas at the house, but my friend Schuster only scoffed, pointing out that there wasn’t any rum.
Nurse, prep Living Room One for immediate emergency surgery and put the superglue bank on alert because I’ll be damned if I’ll let this robot glue out on my watch.
ever early to the party, i wish we’d hear from the burfday lawyer!
Nothing brings you back down from the enlightened skies like the call of the little green frog.
1. The existence of a woman like Bakerina.
Yay Bakerina! - Grud blows party whistle and throws steamers at Bake with such energy that you’d think the party hat placed jauntily on her head would fall right off… but strangely… it doesn’t.
Peter lost his best pocket protector trying to dance to chaos theory.
To get a more realistic Spartan experience, my son and I pretend our old couch is rough battlefield terrain; we tell the dog to be a Persian, but he’s not interested in playing along.
It occurs to me that since my gloves now look like legwarmers I may have made a slight mistake in gauge.
Like dropping a dead monkey down an elevator shaft.
I want to write a book, but I know those scoundrels in London are just going to give me the Thomas Nashe treatment.
Please know that I was here with you, in real time, even, and that the only reason that I was not thanking you profusely and Rawkin’ Out in Real Time was because Bunni’s computer *is* HAL 2000, and will crash if you look at it cross-eyed; that said, please know that I am beyond touched, that I love each and every one of you to pieces, and that I felt the power of the 45, oh, yes. :)
If I’d been alive in 1630, I would have gone to meet the man named Sir John Suckling, and I would have asked him to read that poem of his that starts, “Why so pale and wan, fond lover?” because I think that would’ve been the ultimate test of courage.
My fiance came home from a grad student party tonight and told me about the pinnacle of bachelorhood: keeping your toothbrush next to the sink in an empty Styrofoam Cup O’ Noodles cup.
Morning light pierced through on swift wings; me, I slept, but not well.
An unidentified man’s only son liked a newly discovered playlist so much early Sunday morning that he immediately burned an mp3 disk for his bedroom and proclaimed that a mysterious man named ‘mouse was his new musical hero; the father offered no comment.
There are many easy ways not to be a dork; for instance, try not to search your email boxes for FTD when you really mean FTP because the results will only cause dork-like confusion.
not being able to figure out how to download a certain bopping playlist in such a manner that actually might keep it intact and not seeded throughout all genres, albums and artists in itunes so that the good times might never again be reassembled, numbering only 52.
Chad had blisters on his fingertips after he overshot the NaNoWriMo word count by 85,000 words.
Shelley was concerned when she took a month off to concentrate on her bread baking only to find her cookies had fallen two spots on the all-time goodie list.
The American hand gesture for the children’s game “I Got Your Nose” is the same as the Indonesian hand gesture for “Screw You.”
Def’n: The day one tries to squeeze all that last minute fun in before one has to return to one’s prison/office on Monday morning; can be extremely depressing especially in the late hours.
The police had never seen anything like it: when they first entered the dwelling they noticed the mounds and mounds of yarn, only later did the see the poor woman’s stockinged feet (she had knitted them herself) under what must have been a fiber avalanche of epic proportions.
I have a hard time believing the CBS’s Sports Central is a high quality sports viewing program given that it airs for 15 minutes on Sunday nights at 11:30.
Tiffany had just finished a delicious cup of tea when she had the sudden urge to read the tea leaves in the bottom of the cup: “don’t drink the tea it’s poison.”
The world is occasionally so devastatingly cruel it seems impossible that music could even exist.
The world is occasionally so beautiful that it seems to make its own music.
I know it’d look like blood if I got cut, but it feels more like synthetic moonlight pumping through my veins at this time of night.
The Flying Nuns of St. Catherine, a favorite at the Vatican Air Show, were among the Mother Superior’s chief complaints as she found them to be frivolous and careless the rest of the year, crashing through the windows accidentally at night.
Studies show that while heavy metal music causes termites to eat wood faster it has a paradoxically opposite effect on angst filled teenagers who seem to become lazier when listening to Slayer CD’s therefore, people living in homes with both problems should play only Perry Como and Ray Connif records as it puts the termites to sleep and sends the teenagers running from the house screaming thus providing satisfactory solutions to both the homeowners issues.
After 10 years of marriage, Jan Van de Boer, still unable to locate a single erogenous zone while making love to his wife was secretly pleased that he could find at least 10 of her erroneous zones.
I don’t mind toiling away in obscurity, but it would be nice if everyone else knew I was doing it.
Sometimes scary people become adorable after their ringtone sounds, and sometimes normal looking people become terrifying.
As inspired by: steve's knowing you knowing me
What is the point of wearing the tights and the cape if no one looks up at the sky to see what you are doing?
As inspired by: steve's knowing you knowing me
I wanted to attend the Steve worship service, but the spring on my clip-on tie was beginning to wear out and I was afraid it’d fall off during the service and embarrass him.
I keep trying to call the school and report that my son is sick, but each time someone answers they start pushing the buttons and hurting my ears, and the only thing I can come up with is that they’ve put students in charge of the attendance office and they’ve realized they now have a great way to force parents to make prank phone calls on themselves.
According to Jim Croce, tugging on Superman’s cape, spitting into the wind, and unmasking the Lone Ranger are all bad ideas, but please, in the name of all that’s good and holy in the universe, don’t mess around with Jim.
After years of third-degree burns and an unfortunate string of arson convictions, he decided to stop fighting fire with fire and start using things like water and those red foam-spewing contraptions that extinguish flames.
When his doctor entered the exam room dressed as Shakespeare and his opening line was, “Why, the prostate’s mine oyster, Which I with sword will open,” Henry tried to remain calm, reminding himself that The Merry Wives of Windsor was a comedy, and that surely the good doctor was only joking.
If Bad, Bad Leroy Brown and (Don’ Mess Around With) Jim got into a fight, who would win?
The stars aligned between grad school and her workplace, yet Muriel quavered, afraid that if she actually started writing, everyone would find out what a fraud she was.
“Jujyfruits are as evil as they ever were, sticking to your teeth and wedging into that corner between your teeth and gums,” smacked Davies as he rattled the box in invitation, “but at least now that we’re older, you won’t get two or three stuck in your braces.”
They dug a huge trench in my backyard into which I dropped something secret, in the middle of the night.
The morning air stropped it’s teeth on the bare flesh of my arms and neck.
The middle finger on my left hand has become quite muscular from overuse while driving to and from work each day.
The middle finger on my left hand has become quite muscular from overuse while driving to and from work each day.
You say ‘tomato’; I say, ‘shut up bitch.’
Australia, if you don’t give me back some of my fucking daylight soon I’m going to get get upset, and you don’t want to know what I do when I get upset.
As inspired by: Br. Ezra's Ultimatum
To accommodate it getting darker earlier and earlier Tammy kept readjusting her bedtime 30 minutes earlier, until she went to bed at noon and woke up at 8am, enjoying a full 4 hour day.
Numbers are just so damned annoying; they always lie.
i always put plastic flowers on her grave because they last longer like i wish she might have so i could have known her better
I found in my maths exam that chewing on the end of your leaking pen really is bad for your health
can i have a reality check in my head ASAP, reality check in my head ASAP
Edwina awoke with a start, once again to a strange sound emanating from the hen-house.
As inspired by: cetacean's reality check
I’ll take a real(ity) check in my bank account ASAP, a real(ity) check in my bank account ASAP.
You will eat dim-sum in 3D and you will like it.
Although the medical school entrance committee would never admit to it, they often made decisions between two worthy applicants by placing the title ‘Dr.’ before their names to gauge whether it sounded ‘right’, which basically doomed Mr. Ouch von PainGiver’s prospects as a future gynecologist.
Jan Van de Boer became a grocer because he loved calling for a “clean up in aisle 5” ever since that one Christmas when Santa Claus left him an intercom system in his stocking.
Mud, the whole world is made of mud, it’s a mud world.
Ralph Pusty dreams often of legally changing his last name.
My mother always said it was all fun and games until someone got their eye poked out but, she failed to mention what happened when you got kicked in the nuts.
Even from this dizzying height you wouldn’t fall forever, Imaginary Keith thought, and carefully slid himself back away from the edge.
I was thinking Damn, I’m hungry and would kill for a Bacon-Lettuce-Tomato sandwich, but when the fridge yielded up a smoked-turkey (last of the Thanksgiving leftovers) with homemade cranberry sauce sandwich, I decided to leave murder for another day.
Someone once told me a recession is when your friend loses their job or their home and a depression is when you lose yours.
As inspired by: Jo's Lawn Guys
I thought I’d clean this up so we can play a proper game of 20 Questions in which we have to guess the answer to Jo’s mystery:
They dug a huge trench in my backyard into which I dropped something secret, in the middle of the night.
within 20 comments (not including Jo’s answers).
Being one of those people who goes into school once it is school holidays is NOT COOL so why am I going to school today?
Toad licking and even toad smoking are interesting ways to get high when you don’t have money for more traditional drugs such as smack or meth but, I will draw the line at sniffing fermented human waste to get high which, frankly, you would need to be high in the first place to even consider (how high? now that is a question)
If MXCLYPM were a real word instead of random, useless tiles I would be Scrabble champion.
Detective Sgt. James Madison was your prototypical bad boy cop who didn’t play by the rules and because of this he was reassigned to a special task force that had been created to crack down on toad smoking and human poop huffing.
“Damn it Jim! You’re a cop, not a proctologist,” shouted Capt. Bones McCoy boring holes into his detective with his angry glance, “I expect you to conduct your strip searches accordingly.”
As inspired by: Br. Ezra's Vice Cops: Special Toad Unit
“In the amphibian justice system, toad-based offenses are considered especially heinous; in New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these toady crimes are members of an elite squad known as the Special Toads Unit: these are their stories.” (Starring Freddy “the Frog” Prince, Kermit von Toadhauser, R. I. Bit, and introducing Fly S. Watter)
Sweet dreams are made of cheese.
As inspired by: littledevilworks's I might have misheard the lyrics….
“Houston…It’s not Bleu, it’s Meunster.”
I left my brains down in Africa.
What hurt the most is I never got to say goodbye and I just wish so much I could have said goodbye.
His one month death anniversary has now passed and I find myself dreaming the fears that circle in my brain in the waking hours that I try so hard to suppress so I can seem unaffected
Rock the cat box.
‘I’m just ringing to inform you that Christmas is cancelled this year’ said the yum-yum sister in rather happy tones; my smile broke free at the news, spewing out sunlight and happiness and causing birds to sing and nymphs to dance.
As we approach the truth on Jo’s secret object, I can’t help but wonder, given a deep, empty trench, what item other Scriners would bury.
The british teacher was arrested and nearly executed because the Islamic children in her primary class chose to name the teddy Muhammad…
Why is it that everytime I put myself out into the world and tell people who I really am and who I want to be they tell me to be realistic?