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Ladieeeees and Gentlemen, please, with no uncertain effort, give a warm welcome to the year 2008!
In welcoming you with open arms we wish you every success during your short time of existence, and hope that you will be able to match the glorious efforts of your predecessor, the unmistakable 2007. We also quietly but encouragingly hope that you can also improve on the tragic mistakes that will, from here on, be forever associated with said year.
So here’s hoping 2008 will deliver much celebrations and achievements, and fewer unjust deaths, exploitative wars, and horrible affectations on normal, everyday people.
She was as beautiful a bird as he’d ever seen in his life.
Succulent breasts that were so juicy you simply couldn’t resist wanting to place your lips on them.
Thighs nicely round and defined, yet not too plump…almost what you would call just right. Well, they were right for him anyway, as he reached out and felt their tenderness beneath his fingertips.
Her skin was a beautiful golden colour, unlike any he’d seen before, so beautiful to look at it made her even more irresistible, if that was possible.
Yes, nobody could cook roast chicken quite like gran...
Who would've guessed when he discovered the old phone booth that he and his friends woud get so excited about the old trick of trying to fit as many people into it as possible? And who, in anyone's imagination, would've thought they could fit twelve people into this cramped space?
But that's just what they had done and, even though he felt pretty close to some of these friends, he'd never
thought he'd be
close to some of them.
And now, he'd decided, best mate Ralph would be getting extra strong deodorant in his Christmas stocking...
Things to do:
- cut my nose hairs
(gee, they're getting long)
- think seriously about tattoos to get
(I sooo want text...)
- paint and draw much more
(and get bigger too! I wanna paint big!)
- continue battling the weight...seriously
(must stop taking lollies and cakes to work)
- camp more regularly
(just make the effort to get away at least once a month, dammit!)
- write songs as soon as I get ideas
(don't forget to always have a pad on you)
- work harder at work
(at least make an effort to find things to do when none are evident)
- smile constantly.
I was heartbroken by the rejection of my one true love. Not only wouldn't she show me affection (no kiss or hug even), but she gave me wildly outlandish excuses to boot. Not the old, "I'm having my hair done", but some truly original pusher-awayers.
First, "I'm feeding the cat."
Then, "I have to clean my room."
And the best one: "I'm doing my Barbie's hair."
My wife, with not one sympathetic bone in her body, told me to stop acting like a baby and to grow up. She said our three-year-old daughter doesn't think like a grown-up adult...
I couldn't believe how much she'd changed. And how happy I was it had happened this way.
Between the ages of 2˝ and 3˝ she was such an evil-hearted catty bitch of a little girl and I was so worried she would stay that way. "I hate you" and "Go away" were common phrases.
But now, at the ripe old age of 4˝ she will talk to you and tell you things and, heaven forbid, even give a smile!
She still has her days, but now the far more beautiful girl we always hoped for can be more regularly seen...
Her name is Elizabeth. Many people call her Beth. Nobody, if they know what's good for them, dares call her Bet.
Ted, her partner for quite some years, knew she hated it, but still sometimes he slipped it in. He knew it niggled at her but simply did it to get a rise out of her.
Beth complained when he first started to do it. Now she just lets it pass most of the time without reaction.
for when he pushes too hard and goes a bit overboard. Then she calls him by his much-hated given name.
What more need one say?
It may not be good for helping to keep the kilos off, but it always brings a smile to your face. Hell, even the smell makes me feel happier. And even if I'm trying to abstain motivated by trimming down and getting healthier, all I need is an offer of even the smallest piece...and I'm done for.
I can't say no.
And I'm not sorry about that either.
There truly is nothing like it. It's a saviour. It's a blessing. It's light on your darkest day of all.
It is...it just
Lightly, so softly, the microscopic speck of dust wafted across the room to sit on top of the plush lounge in this house he'd never been in before. The winds had brought him down the street and chosen where to take him as, of course, he'd had no control at all, being as tiny and unobtrusive as he was.
With no wind in this house he thought he may actually be able to habitate somewhere and enjoy it for some time.
Right then a crazy woman with the back of a chook in her hand rudely swept him away again.
"I want an icecream, mum."
"That's not the correct way to ask, young man. Try again."
"I want a chocolate icecream?"
"Still not right"
"I want a Choc-Wedge?"
"Then give me a Drumstick."
"I want an Eskimo Pie then."
"You're still missing the point."
"Can you give me a clue?"
"It'll just take one word."
(exasperated) "You just have to say please."
"Pleas? Pleas? What the hell do you think I've been doing all this time mum? I've lost count of the number of pleas I've made to get this stupid chocolate-covered frozen glob!"
Over the years many have spoken of, and even predicted, the end of the world.
The question always foremost in my mind is: if and when the world does come to an end, will we know?
I mean, just
will it happen, and will humans existing then be aware of it when it does? Will it be a global catastrophic disaster, or will it just be a big ---blip--- much like a television being turned off?
It seems that none of the people predicting the end of the world can tell us how it will happen either.
How did that song go
, he thought to himself as he was walking down one of the more working-class streets in his town.
I've got a truck I can't quite unhitch
And now I'm stuck...
Nope, can't remember the last bit of that line...
Just then, he heard a man's voice screaming angrily at the top of his voice from one of the houses, "Stupid Bitch!"
It didn't sound quite right, but fit pretty good...
I've got a truck I can't quite unhitch
And now I'm stuck with you, stupid bitch
...he crooned as he leapt an open ditch.
She laughed at me when I told her about my aim to complete a month of the 100 words project. My best friend told me that brevity of explanation has never been my strong point. And she has every right to her opinion. Actually, because she is my best friend she probably has more right to tell me than someone else.
But, even though I love her greatly, her lack of confidence in me to be able to meet the constraints set up by the site kind of really cut to the quick. In all seriousness, the way she
Recipe with a difference:
First get some quality crackers, some salmon dip, and some Camembert cheese.
Then, a nice bottle of port, brand unimportant, and two small ceramic cups to sup it from.
Purchase a voucher from the local movie store to enable the selection of whatever movie tickles one's fancy at the time needed.
A couple of pizzas, preferably one with the lot (
anchovies), and one with either seafood or plenty of pepperoni.
A nice tub of ice cream for dessert.
Chocolate and lollies in a bowl for afters.
Just bring it around to my place!
The words of the Kenny Rogers song rolled through his head:
You've gotta know when to hold 'em,
Know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away
And know when to run...
Lately, it seemed, he didn't
anything. Surely the cards you got made a difference. His life philosophy was, "You play the cards as you're dealt them, and try not to lose too much." But in recent times he didn't get dealt many good cards.
And if it was about the cards you were dealt, how come a couple of guys won so regularly?
Stuff you, Kenny.
The thought of his uncle visiting him made Quinn's heart leap with joy in anticipation. His mum told him that unlce Brendan had rung and would be there in about 10 minutes!
Quinn, at the ripe age of 6, couldn't remember bad times with uncle Brendan. He couldn't remember a lot of the first couple of years of his life, but always felt warm feelings trying to. One thing though, uncle Brendan always had a big smile and played lots.
As uncle Brendan came through the door, with
smile, he reached for Quinn and said:
Hey! Pull my finger...
Green, Blue, Red, Purple, and white for the little one. Don't they look so beautiful...A right foot with pretty colours on each toenail. Outstanding.
He couldn't understand why people thought it was strange for him to do this. Surely other people like colours, he thought.
And the highlight was yet to come. He'd read about how the virtuoso artist Vincent Van Gogh adored the colour yellow, as you could see quite clearly from his many paintings of sunflowers.
Allen liked yellow too. A lot. Too.
He'd decided to go "full bore". A fitting tribute: a complete yellow left foot!
He could feel his eyes physically roll back in his head as he heard his mother call for him. Unbelievable how every time he was trying to get something important done she just
to call him.
"Coming," he said, with no real intention of rushing himself because he knew from experience that there was every chance that whatever his mother wanted would not be very significant.
After what seemed like only a minute she called out for him again, whinging that she'd been waiting 15 minutes.
Ugh. 15 Minutes. Couldn't she understand the importance of making the top score???
She sat opposite him for three years at primary school and, though there were twenty-four others in the class, she was all he saw for much of those years.
From the first time he noticed her, she noticed him back. She smiled at him in reciprocation of his friendliness, they talked a lot about everything and nothing. Over time they became close friends and he thought this beautiful existence would never end.
Until the day his pet cat was beheaded.
And five years later, following her conviction as a serial killer, nobody who'd known her could believe it could be.
"Why is it that kids pick their noses so much?"
"Well, you know, there's snot in there."
"Duhhh. But we use hankies, and give them good example..."
"But if it needs to be picked then using your finger is easier."
"But it's digusting!"
"Well, eveybody else thinks so, but for kids it is just what's easiest comes naturally. And before there were hankies I'm sure everybody picked their noses to clean them."
"It's still disgusting."
"Oh, mate! They're kids! That's what they do!"
"Okay, so why do so many of them insist on eating it then?"
"Ummm...maybe they're hungry?"
Hey mum you won't believe what happened at school today Amanda was playing with us in the yard when James who is just to die for came over to us and just kissed her on the cheek out of nowhere and she went bright red all over her face not because she didn't like him because she's had the hots for him for like forever but because she didn't ever think it would happen and it did and now she's going out to the movies with him next week and she's gonna tell us all about it!
Isn't that cool!
If I could write a little poem
I'd try to say something to get you home.
Something like you have nice eyes,
Both of them, I'd say it twice.
I'd say I think your brain is pretty smart
but you might just think I'm a boring old fart.
Or perhaps just that I like your hair...
No! Not what's in your underwear!
But really, maybe it may be best
If I say not much, a little less
Than what I want to say, and overly bubble,
And that way...
I'll manage to keep myself out of too much trouble.
What would it be like if the story of Little Red Riding Hood took place in current times?
Perhaps Red would've maced the wolf the first time they met in the woods. Or perhaps pulled a pistol out of her basket.
The woodcutter may well have been a street kid or gang member who took the wolf out with his uzi.
One thing's for sure, when they ran out of the house, Red would've dialed 911 and the chase would've been picked up by a news helicopter and shown live on TV.
And then Red would be featured on Oprah...
As he walked along the path through the forest in the gully between the hills nearby his house he couldn't help but feel that it didn't really matter what other troubles invaded his life.
Give me my big-fucking-mortgage, my neverending phone bills (not mentioning the gas, electricity, and water ones), my car registration, my numerous insurance policies, making sure I needn't spend any more money than they already take off me (other than excess, that is), and my annual land rates.
Yes, They could all go to hell.
paradise negated every other bit of shit in life.
Movies I own that I hold aloft:
- Ferris Bueller's Day Off
- The Princess Bride
- The Sting
- Dead Poet's Society
- The Big Chill
- Bad Boy Bubby
- Life Is Beautiful
- Breaker Morant
- Fight Club
- Black Snake Moan
- Kingdom Of Heaven
- When Harry Met Sally
- King Arthur (Clive Owen, Keira Knightley)
- Sin City
Movies I'd be happy to never see again:
- Bridget Jones's Diary
- Grease (great soundtrack though)
- Bubba Ho-Tep
- The Lion King
- Jungle 2 Jungle
- Bruce Almighty
- Jumpin' Jack Flash
- Once Were Warriors
- Shallow Hal
- X-Men (1, 2, or 3)
- The Birds (Hitchcock)
- The Sound Of Music
- The Fountain
Boxes, boxes, boxes.
What a great and versatile invention. All kinds of things come in boxes, from appliances to toys to foodstuffs to books to gifts of all shapes and sizes. Even chocolate comes in boxes.
Jewellery comes in boxes, and sometimes even furniture comes in boxes. Pets are placed in boxes for travelling, and musical instruments come in boxes also.
People often use boxes when moving house, to pack all the things we acquire what seems so easily but become tiresome while in the process of moving.
Boxes, boxes, boxes.
I hate moving house.
Boxes aren't that great really...
Holding his little miracle in his arms he couldn't believe that the love between he and Shonah had created this wonderfully perfect little product.
Eve Sally Constance. Born at 2.22am on February 14, Valentine's Day, a perfect omen of her creators' love. At 7lb 4oz she fitted perfectly in his arms, and this dream so excitedly awaited had now become a reality.
He'd anticipated feelings of euphoria at the time of the birth, but even as he held his charming little daughter in his arms, he was unable to describe these amazing feelings that were just sweeping over him unendingly.
The hole isn't for everyone.
Walking around at depth with just the light of your cap lamp to guide you, it's not everybody's cup of tea. And that's okay too. Some people say that being beneath the earth before you're dead is unnatural.
It's not as bad as it seems, though. You don't crawl around in a confined space, and it is often larger than a shopping mall passage.
Some actually like it. Sometimes, while alone, I'll turn my light off and take in the silence and the absolute blackness. It's relaxing.
It's what I do, and I like it.
Shh, Shhhh, I love this song...
You love this song? Really? But this so-
I said shush! Let me listen to it!
But this song is about someone getting shitfaced drunk and beating up on their girlfriend...
It is not!
It is so! You love this song and you haven't listened to the words properly? But you're singing along with it...
Well...I just like the sound of it, ok?
(rolling eyes) Oh right, and I'm sure Martin Bryant liked the feel of a gun in his hand...
What? Who the hell is Martin Bryant???
Argghhh...words mean nothing anymore!
In 1968 George Harrison (of Beatles fame) wrote a song called
While My Guitar Gently Weeps
. It's said it was inspired by his reading the I Ching.
Right now, 40 years later, I wish my guitar was weeping in relation to the I Ching, and not because it is crying out of withdrawal from my lack of attention for it.
Modern technology gives us so many time-saving devices that we should have shitloads more time than times before. Why is it that no matter how much I try, I cannot find the time to do things I want to?
She was only half-heartedly resisting the pain now, was ready to succumb to the sorrow no matter what anyone else thought.
Whispers in the office, friends not understanding, she'd even heard Georgia in the lunchroom say to someone, "It's just a dog."
But Dazzler was more than "just a dog". He was her companion, her comfort, loyal to the end. He knew when she was down and understood to nuzzle up to her feet as she sat in front of the TV.
And now he was gone, and she simply felt like sobbing fully.
Yes, it was right now. Unmistakably.
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