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.. postulate on the propriety of purple prose in a public post.
MacCavity, seeing himself in the limelight, did a quick "exit stage left" and was there no more. However, Freya, the Lab/Chow mix puppy, bounded into the scene. Wielding her deadly +25 tounge of excessive licking, she proceeded to lavish all present with a coating of doggy slobber and blond hair.
...at which, Petronella screamed, 'get that dog off me, oh my hair, my dress, my painted nails, oh the smell, I can't ... whatever will people think .. seeing me in such a state? I .... er....oh my ..... !!'
But Tommy, on the other hand, said, 'wow, let's have a rollick in the grass'
And Petronella thought he meant her, so she dashed off screaming...
Then Freya ....
Then Freya ....Jumped on her boar named HildisvÃ*n the Battle-Swine,waved at all
the nut cases and................
... broke out into a soulful aria, which did not count as "the fat lady sings", since she was after all a dog. The battle-boar, bored with Freya's baleful bellowing, bounded into the air, with bewildering bouyancy, and blasted off towards Alfheim.
"Unbelievable!" muttered a stranger, who was unknown to anyone present and left before anyone noticed him.
Petronella, disheveled and distraught, scrambled down the lane seeking to elude Tommy. This was when...
I woke up.
(Not part of the tale, but seriously, I want to thank all the wonderful people who have added to this (oh so serious) Tale .. because time and time again, I have sat here laughing!)
On with the show...
On with the show...Petronella finished scrambling....My but,she was tired of scrambling
Part of the show little P.....nelly said" a wicked one armed spinning top.....but when it stops spinning it's not a top anymore.Oh Lord................................
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mags
Mags this ongoing madness has been a Hoot for me too. :grin:
Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light.
The Zen Chopstick Master and Scientific Whale Harvester Extraordinaire, Chi-Ken, was back in the cyber whaling dory.
Petronella leaned on his shoulder, her hair tousled and more than just a few of the buttons up the back of her red dress mismatched with their buttonholes. There was a glassy, cat-like, animal aspect to her eyes, betraying not exhaustion, but complete and utter satiation, as if she were a lioness who had gorged on man-flesh. Chi-Ken stared down at her tenderly.
And then slowly, like a silent, smelly one emitted at an old maids' canasta party, the full horror of the narrative chaos around them became overwhelming. Petronella (a) stared at Petronella (b). Chi-Ken struggled for coherence and found none. They both stood, mouths agape at the narrative shambles.
Ahab glared at Petronella (a) in the whaling dory. He sauntered over slowly, as casually as his peg leg would allow, and handed her a large brown paper bag. "Here," he said coldly, "your new boyfriend likes these."
Petronella (a) glanced down into the bag. It contained a Sailor Moon costume and a bottle of "Personal Spermaceti Oil."
Ahab laughed coldly as he showed Chi-Ken the Green Peace button on the lapel of his pea jacket. From his pocket he pulled a "Save the Whales" bumper sticker and handed it to Chi-Ken. "Take it and stick it!" he said flatly, trying to hold back the torrent of emotion he felt pent up inside.
Moby snickered and handed Chi-Ken a URL: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/5085730.stm
Chi-Ken's Za-Zen stoicism began to crack. A small trickle of drool ran down from the corner of his mouth. He reached for his katana........
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http://forums.windrivers.com/images/.../2010/07/1.jpg
It is my pure and virtuous heart that
gives me the strength of ten!
I can well and truly empathise with Petronella (was she a or b?) with her mismatched buttons, have just been taking a few photos of myself, with a self-timer .. put one outfit on, set the timer, dash to sit on a chair, smile, dash back to camera, check what it looks like, take another one .. dash off get another outfit, set timer, sit on chair, check what looks like .. go get on another outfit, set timer .... and so on.Quote:
Originally Posted by houseisland
Now I'm gonna have to look up 'katana' ... ?
If anyone else knows, on with the show ...
"Then it's theTachi you desire so much Petronella"?said squishy -Oh my God!said"Petronella stay away from me buttons,Where did thee come from?"Alas uneducated sea creatures
unsheath their blades and....................
"Folks ‘round here just call me Mother Abigail," she tells him. "I’m 106 years old, and I still bake my own bread." Run Forrest!! "said ,Who-No who's on first.Petronella wondered out loud,"Why am I thinking all this gibberish?"Well,put another log on the fire baby said"............................................. .
NOTE:
Main reason for concern.
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Mr. P, who had missed all his previous stage cues back at the trash strewn alley, quietly surveyed the situation. He took an idle bite from his ever-present vegemite sandwich and pondered while he masticated.
The Squid looked over in disapproval and said sternly, "Stop it, or you'll go blind!"
Mr. P ignored the rebuke. "What did it matter?" He thought. "I've already got the hairy palms, err ... paws."
Anyway things were getting seriously out of hand (or paw or tentacle as the case may be). Chi-Ken had drawn his katana. Ahab brandished a flensing knife in Chi-Ken's direction. Moby was looking for his 38 Cal. sardine. Petronella (a) had pulled a switchblade from the top of her fishnet stockings and was heading towards Petronella (b). The Squid's batteries were running low. It was all pretty ugly.
Mr. P looked into his utility kit, and pulled out a 12 pack of Foster's Lager 24 ounce tubes. He stuffed back a half dozen vegemite sandwiches, before spiking the bottoms of the beer tins with his poisonous dew claw, popping the tops, and doing the tubes as shooters.
It was time for the ultimate crowd control move, the dreaded Technicolour yawn.
Mr. P adjusted his bill for maximum spray distribution, and then with a preliminary belch, legally serving as a reading of the riot act, he projected a stream of vegemite/beer vomit over the crowd.
Spirits were somewhat dampened to say the least.
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http://forums.windrivers.com/images/.../2010/07/1.jpg
It is my pure and virtuous heart that
gives me the strength of ten!
All the happy creatures now had their cell phones ruined.
Huh-OH! Mr.P's ex-wife was standing their dripping his foul
upheavels.
Sick B**turd she thought"That's why I left him.
Now he had really messed up bad.Imagine ruining a females cell
phone.(shutters at the thought).
Those beady eyes...He should have known it was her.Pray God!Mr P
screamed...
Please don't use that......................
...cell phone again, because I'm tired of your continual texts begging for more maintenance.
However, one person had escaped the ewwww attack, posh Claire, who had been sitting in a prehistoric conservatory, the glass of which was now somewhat blurred.
She sat there, feet on the other chair, glass of fruit juice in hand, bedecked with jewelry, wearing her posh rimless sunglasses, her silver sports car parked nearby. That also was rather eww marred.
Claire gazed at the motley crew and thought back to more innocent, peaceful days when the ladies were polite and the gentlemen even more so. She wondered what would become of the Planet now and indeed, where all these characters had come from? She decided to throw her nose up in the air at it all .. and continue reading her book, which was about ....