Tuesday, April 01, 2008

I tried an experiment like this once. Not too different an outcome, either...

Offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix.

The professor told his class one day, "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me.

The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth.

Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely no talking outside of the e-mails, and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of his students, Rebecca and Gary.


(1st paragraph by Rebecca)

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(2nd paragraph by Gary)

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,"

He said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay.

The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.


He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4.

"Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel, "Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her.

"Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she wondered wistfully.


Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anudrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty, the Anudrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.


This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.


Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of f*cking tea???!

Oh no, WHAT AM I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!"








Go drink some tea, whore.


A+...I really liked this one.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

All behold my cheese...

"All hitters need to gear up to hit his cheese."
-Read while perusing a minor-league baseball site.

I wish someone had a hard time hitting my cheese.

The trucks left for Florida this weekend.

Hurry the hell up, willya?

Mother. There is no other.

Mother. She takes my temperature when I don't feel right.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Don't call me Cobra. Just don't do it.

I was verbally and emotionally accosted today by a foreign woman (she wouldn't tell me from where), who told me her life was ruined because someone, twenty-two years ago, used her first name (Cobra) fraudulently. Because of this scandal, her immediate family was all killed, the area above her business' drop ceiling was full of drugs, and she was being unfairly singled out for likely terrorist activity by Mayor Bill Clinton. In addition, the waist-high water accident in her shop was a conspiracy by the people next door who want her out so they can store even more drugs.


Please don't call me Cobra. Just don't do it.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

What's Wrong With America

Well, this is just part of it, but it merits attention. Woman buys house for $1.2 million in 2005. Woman now feels the house is worth less because other houses in the neighborhood sold for $100k less. Woman sues her agent on the grounds he didn't disclose every sale price in the area.

I was brought up taking responsibility for my actions or inactions. Watching this pathetic woman makes me sick.

You didn't do your homework and may have paid too much. Suck it up, lady.

Monday, January 14, 2008

The coolest thing I never heard.

I was just looking over our wedding DJ's website, and really looked at our song list. We had a bitchin' play list, even though I can't remember a darn one. Here are my ten faves...

1. Judas Priest; Metal Gods (Do NOT get married without this song.)
2. Dokken; Burning Like A Flame
3. Roxy Music; Love Is The Drug
4. Mighty Mighty Bosstones; Royal Oil
5. Kraftwerk; The Model
6. Lynard Skynard; Freebird (extended version)
7. The Toasters; Sweet Cherie
8. Bim Skala Bim; Hey Girl
9. 38 Special; Hold On Loosely
10. Pixies; Here Comes Your Man

If there's a tighter wedding playlist, well, sir...you're full of it. Let it go down in the annals of history that wedding song playlist perfection was attained on September 2, 2006.

Whoop! Whoop!

Sunday, January 13, 2008

On growing old...

Oh, and while I'm reminiscing about Sir Edmund climbing the face of God at age 33, might I also throw in the fact that Julia Child started cooking with any real intent at age 37?

These people, and many more like them, continually inspire me to reach higher in my life, to accept that age is no excuse for complacency.

Thanks, for the pep rally, guys. Now in your honor I shall make a 29,028-foot souffle.

We finally knocked the bastard off...

"Well, George, we finally knocked the bastard off."

-Sir Edmund Hillary's first words (to friend George Lowe) upon returning from the summit of Mount Everest.

Sadly, one of my personal heroes from my childhood died of heart failure Friday. He was eighty-eight.

I always admired Sir Hillary for a number of reasons, not the least of which for his having stood as far off the surface of the earth as anyone can possibly do, and he did it first. What stuck with me most was that his conquest took place when he was 33 years old. How amazing is that?

We will miss you, Sir Edmund. Thank you for knocking the bastard off.