Today's Prompt: What is your favorite era? Write an ad to visit that era if time travel were possible.
Chuck C. wrote:
Come gather, the 1980's are calling. With the new 2016 Delorian, you get a flux capacitor standard. With an automatic setting to return to 1982, you can experience everything time's best decade has to offer. Don't forget your acid-washed jeans, Walkman, and hair spray; you want to make sure you blend in. Get ready to see MTV play music videos, Arena's play rock, and Ozzy talking coherently. So, if you're prepared for a hair-raising adventure awash with cassette tapes and a still not yet family-fied Eddie Murphy, purchase the new 2016 Delorian. Who knows? You may even run into Doc Brown!
Melody Joy wrote:
The Civil War Era (1860’s)
Come take a ride on a horse-drawn carriage under a covered bridge and read new stories by Edgar Allen Poe by oil lantern. Walk up and down wooden walkways with petticoats and parasols and enjoy the brilliance of the night sky unaltered by electric lighting. Get back to a simpler time where you can learn about the simple pleasures in life.
Dana Lee wrote:
My mom always said I should be a hippie. Maybe it is because I am a free spirit and just always live life to my own set of rules. She told me I should have been born in the 1960's and I could not agree more.
Come have a totally groovy time in the 1960's!
Where the parties are righteous
and the chicks wont' leave you bummed out.
You will have a gas.
Hope to see you soon!
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
Friday, February 27, 2015
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Wacky Wednesday - Tree Houses (Picture Prompt)
Today's prompt: Write a story with these houses as the setting.
Melody Joy wrote:
Willow and Fred Manchester were more concerned with the potential zombie apocalypse than most children, which is why they spent hours every day after school and every weekend slowly building a pair of tree houses in the tall pine trees behind the house. Although their parents thought they were crazy, it kept them from fighting except for the occasional arguments over whose tree house was better or safer, so they allowed it.
Forty years later after the tree houses had been completed and then promptly abandoned as their owners moved away to college, Willow slowly climbs the spiral staircase to her tree house home. The world didn’t end with zombies as she and her brother had guessed, but she supposed grimly that a plague that kills its victims permanently rather than turning them into brain-hungry monsters is preferable.
She could live in the house, of course, but there were too many bad memories there. It was in the house that she nursed her parents and her husband and her daughters as they died from the plague. It was from the house that she dragged their still bodies. It was behind the house that she buried them, removing countless of shovels of dirt that mixed with tears.
So she lived in the tree house. After all, she had built it as a safe place.
Dana Lee wrote:
It all started with a simple bet
Whose house could be
The highest yet?
Frank and Tom worked all day
Henry and Hank worked all night
Day after day
Night after night
These four builders built
Their houses to the sky
As it was expected
One day it happened
They ran out of wood
Build no longer they could
The four men
from their houses climbed down
looked up at both
and to everyone a crown
Everyone is a winner
The decision was made
For there was no house
Higher than the other
Chuck C. wrote:
Two Trees
John and James were brothers. John and James both had a tree. James said to John, “My tree is stronger.” John said, “Prove it,” so James built a tree house atop his tree. “My Tree house is grand! Look upon its splendor!”
Seething with jealousy, James climbed his tree and built his own tree house. He walked out onto his balcony and declared, “Look at my tree house! Behold all of its glorious splendor!”
John, seeing his brother’s success, decided to offer an olive branch. It had no olives though, which made James upset. The two did not speak again in their lifetime, all over two trees.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
To read the new poetry blog run by our own Dana Lee, check it out here: versoliberopoetry.blogspot.com/
Melody Joy wrote:
Willow and Fred Manchester were more concerned with the potential zombie apocalypse than most children, which is why they spent hours every day after school and every weekend slowly building a pair of tree houses in the tall pine trees behind the house. Although their parents thought they were crazy, it kept them from fighting except for the occasional arguments over whose tree house was better or safer, so they allowed it.
Forty years later after the tree houses had been completed and then promptly abandoned as their owners moved away to college, Willow slowly climbs the spiral staircase to her tree house home. The world didn’t end with zombies as she and her brother had guessed, but she supposed grimly that a plague that kills its victims permanently rather than turning them into brain-hungry monsters is preferable.
She could live in the house, of course, but there were too many bad memories there. It was in the house that she nursed her parents and her husband and her daughters as they died from the plague. It was from the house that she dragged their still bodies. It was behind the house that she buried them, removing countless of shovels of dirt that mixed with tears.
So she lived in the tree house. After all, she had built it as a safe place.
Dana Lee wrote:
It all started with a simple bet
Whose house could be
The highest yet?
Frank and Tom worked all day
Henry and Hank worked all night
Day after day
Night after night
These four builders built
Their houses to the sky
As it was expected
One day it happened
They ran out of wood
Build no longer they could
The four men
from their houses climbed down
looked up at both
and to everyone a crown
Everyone is a winner
The decision was made
For there was no house
Higher than the other
Chuck C. wrote:
Two Trees
John and James were brothers. John and James both had a tree. James said to John, “My tree is stronger.” John said, “Prove it,” so James built a tree house atop his tree. “My Tree house is grand! Look upon its splendor!”
Seething with jealousy, James climbed his tree and built his own tree house. He walked out onto his balcony and declared, “Look at my tree house! Behold all of its glorious splendor!”
John, seeing his brother’s success, decided to offer an olive branch. It had no olives though, which made James upset. The two did not speak again in their lifetime, all over two trees.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
To read the new poetry blog run by our own Dana Lee, check it out here: versoliberopoetry.blogspot.com/
Monday, February 23, 2015
All About Me Monday - Things We Can't Live Without.... Maybe.
What are three material objects that you feel like you can’t live without?
Dana Lee wrote:
1. My Jeep. I live (primarily) in an area where there is not a lot of reliable public transportation available. If you want to get somewhere you have to either have your own car, ask someone for a ride, or hope that the public bus system is running on time. I am very independent so having my own car is the best option for me.
2. My iPod. I love music. I love being able to jam out to my favorite songs whenever I want. It can also semi-substitute for a cell phone given the right conditions. It is not the best substitute but when funds are tight sometimes you have to make sacrifices.
3. My books. Yes, ALL of my books. I love being able to escape into an alternate reality. Life is not always the easiest...though I have not had a very hard life by most standards. I like being able to see characters in their world and interact with them in a way that it would not else be possible. I often grow to close to characters. By the end of the book they begin to feel like old friends.
Chuck C. wrote:
1. Laptop. If I don't have my laptop, I wont be able to get Melody the blog posts. This makes Melody cross, and thus, endangers my life. Hence, cannot live without.
2. Phone. I don’t have my phone, that means no ordering Jimmy Johns at work, and thus, starvation.
3. 20 sided dice. Because how else do you make hard decisions?
Melody Joy wrote:
1. My computer. Definitely. I use it every day for work and love it dearly. When I leave it behind on trips (even just for the night because I know I’m not going to need it), I feel anxious and miss it and hope that it’s faring better without me than I am without it. Once it was at the repair shop for nearly a week getting the keyboard replaced. When I got it back, I gently stroked it while waiting for my receipt and didn’t care if anybody saw.
2. My notebook. This is a combination of church sermon notes, devotional time notes, and my journal. It’s where I go when I have big decisions to be made and I need to write about it, where I go when I’m having emotional breakdowns and I need to work through my crazy emotions by writing them down.
3. My watch. I constantly check my watch not only to know what time it is, but also as something to do when I’m feeling awkward, which happens fairly often. Weirdly enough, it also helps relieve anxiety because for some reason, when I’m in a situation that makes me nervous, knowing what time it is somehow makes me feel better about life in general.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
Dana Lee wrote:
1. My Jeep. I live (primarily) in an area where there is not a lot of reliable public transportation available. If you want to get somewhere you have to either have your own car, ask someone for a ride, or hope that the public bus system is running on time. I am very independent so having my own car is the best option for me.
2. My iPod. I love music. I love being able to jam out to my favorite songs whenever I want. It can also semi-substitute for a cell phone given the right conditions. It is not the best substitute but when funds are tight sometimes you have to make sacrifices.
3. My books. Yes, ALL of my books. I love being able to escape into an alternate reality. Life is not always the easiest...though I have not had a very hard life by most standards. I like being able to see characters in their world and interact with them in a way that it would not else be possible. I often grow to close to characters. By the end of the book they begin to feel like old friends.
Chuck C. wrote:
1. Laptop. If I don't have my laptop, I wont be able to get Melody the blog posts. This makes Melody cross, and thus, endangers my life. Hence, cannot live without.
2. Phone. I don’t have my phone, that means no ordering Jimmy Johns at work, and thus, starvation.
3. 20 sided dice. Because how else do you make hard decisions?
Melody Joy wrote:
1. My computer. Definitely. I use it every day for work and love it dearly. When I leave it behind on trips (even just for the night because I know I’m not going to need it), I feel anxious and miss it and hope that it’s faring better without me than I am without it. Once it was at the repair shop for nearly a week getting the keyboard replaced. When I got it back, I gently stroked it while waiting for my receipt and didn’t care if anybody saw.
2. My notebook. This is a combination of church sermon notes, devotional time notes, and my journal. It’s where I go when I have big decisions to be made and I need to write about it, where I go when I’m having emotional breakdowns and I need to work through my crazy emotions by writing them down.
3. My watch. I constantly check my watch not only to know what time it is, but also as something to do when I’m feeling awkward, which happens fairly often. Weirdly enough, it also helps relieve anxiety because for some reason, when I’m in a situation that makes me nervous, knowing what time it is somehow makes me feel better about life in general.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Saturday Extras - Catch Up!
We missed a few Saturday posts, so here's all the prompt responses that you've missed out on over the last few weeks. Enjoy!
Prompt: Write about one of the following: a recurring dream or nightmare, or describe the feeling of getting déjà vu.
Pope Jon wrote:
When I was much younger, I had a dream wherein I was playing soccer. Unlike most dreams, this one had all the details right: I was playing with the kids who were on my team that season, we were at the same park as in reality, and nothing bizarre happened.
Until we scored a goal.
As my teammates and I ran back to our goalie in celebration, we discovered that the goalie was missing. All that was left was a trail of blood that led to the middle of the field, then ended abruptly.
We searched in confusion and panic, as the "camera" zoomed out and panned upwards, until writing in the sky appeared.
"To Be Continued..." is what it said. Then I woke up.
It hasn't been continued yet, so I suppose it's technically not a reoccuring dream, but I'm a man of my word, so I hope that my subconscious mind follows that mindset.
Prompt: Talk about a decision that came back to haunt you (can be funny or serious).
Chuck C. wrote:
That Club, Yo
A few years ago a friend that I hadn't seen in a long time had come to town. She had spent the past few years in college in North Dakota, so she was looking to enjoy the city life. I picked her up from her brother's house, along with one of her friends at about 8pm. She was quite eager to go one of the clubs that downtown Grand Rapids, MI has to offer.
It can be accurately said that I am the farthest thing from a "club person" that one can be. However, I wanted to show my friend a good time (and, I'll be honest, wanted to woo this girl) so I reluctantly agreed. I found parking, no small task downtown on a Friday, and we made our way to one of the clubs. We walked in, the large muscle-bound bouncer demanded a cover charge from each of us of ten dollars. Completely unreasonable, but us men do silly things when we wish to engage in a romantic undertaking.
We walked in and it was, put succinctly, an introvert's idea of the 7th layer of hell. Loud, bass-heavy music blaring, tight spaces, and a large grind mob consuming a good two thirds of the floor space. I approached the bar, figuring at least can get some beer while I was there. I asked the bartender if they had any craft beer. She said, “Oh yes!” and reached into the cooler, pulling out a Bud Light Platinum. “That'll be 10 dollars,” she said while cracking open the bottle, ensuring I couldn't renege on the deal. I paid her and began sipping my “craft beer”. The next 30 minutes were spent awkwardly standing in the corner while my friend kept trying to get me to join the mob of flesh and intoxicants. I never ended up wooing the girl, and I was out 20 bucks. Definitely a point of regret.
Prompt: Write a funny story about a handsome president who has to save the world.
Dana Lee wrote:
Did you hear the tale of President Mennedy? He was the handsome president who unexpectedly saved the world. You see, he was not the brightest bulb. President Mennedy was once mocked for his lack of knowledge about American history. He believed that the Civil War was fought between the United States and Canada. We all know he only got elected because he is so handsome.
One day Mennedy was ordering lunch for everyone at the White House. On the day he ordered all the pizza, the owners of the business were working hard on bombs they would use to blow up the entire world. However, due to the large order they did not have time to make the bombs and their plans got ruined in a flash flood in the area.
Prompt: Write a rhyming poem written by a pig.
Pope Jon wrote:
Oh, the things I could be!
Tasty, you'll see!
I could be bits on a bag,
For salads and potatoes.
Or strips on a plate,
Served with toast and tomato.
Oh, the things I could be!
Useful, you'll see!
I could be one foot long,
Handled by professionals,
Or transport phones and makeup,
Complete with decor and handles.
Oh the things I could be!
Inspirational, you'll see!
My voice is borrowed by mankind,
The screech beloved by metal bands.
My body is left to science,
Teens tear me apart with bare hands.
Oh the things I could be!
Dead, mostly!
Prompt: What is your favorite color? Write an ode to it.
Chuck C. wrote:
An Ode to Orange
Ode to beautiful Orange,
The greatest of the hues.
So unique, so rare
Not even a rhyme can be made.
You adorn sweet fruit,
Your glow warms the earth.
Flowers, Pumpkins, and Peppers
They all show your splendor
As hair you make the world
happy and unique
Freckles and paste
are your best friends.
A warm glowing sunset
The resplendence is otherworldly.
Tears and fears all abate
In your wonderful presence.
You wrap the carrot,
The root of God
Making cakes moist
Making my sight clear
Orange, oh Orange
Never stop being amazing
Never let your beauty hide.
Shine it bright.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
To read the new poetry blog run by our own Dana Lee, check it out here: versoliberopoetry.blogspot.com/
Prompt: Write about one of the following: a recurring dream or nightmare, or describe the feeling of getting déjà vu.
Pope Jon wrote:
When I was much younger, I had a dream wherein I was playing soccer. Unlike most dreams, this one had all the details right: I was playing with the kids who were on my team that season, we were at the same park as in reality, and nothing bizarre happened.
Until we scored a goal.
As my teammates and I ran back to our goalie in celebration, we discovered that the goalie was missing. All that was left was a trail of blood that led to the middle of the field, then ended abruptly.
We searched in confusion and panic, as the "camera" zoomed out and panned upwards, until writing in the sky appeared.
"To Be Continued..." is what it said. Then I woke up.
It hasn't been continued yet, so I suppose it's technically not a reoccuring dream, but I'm a man of my word, so I hope that my subconscious mind follows that mindset.
Prompt: Talk about a decision that came back to haunt you (can be funny or serious).
Chuck C. wrote:
That Club, Yo
A few years ago a friend that I hadn't seen in a long time had come to town. She had spent the past few years in college in North Dakota, so she was looking to enjoy the city life. I picked her up from her brother's house, along with one of her friends at about 8pm. She was quite eager to go one of the clubs that downtown Grand Rapids, MI has to offer.
It can be accurately said that I am the farthest thing from a "club person" that one can be. However, I wanted to show my friend a good time (and, I'll be honest, wanted to woo this girl) so I reluctantly agreed. I found parking, no small task downtown on a Friday, and we made our way to one of the clubs. We walked in, the large muscle-bound bouncer demanded a cover charge from each of us of ten dollars. Completely unreasonable, but us men do silly things when we wish to engage in a romantic undertaking.
We walked in and it was, put succinctly, an introvert's idea of the 7th layer of hell. Loud, bass-heavy music blaring, tight spaces, and a large grind mob consuming a good two thirds of the floor space. I approached the bar, figuring at least can get some beer while I was there. I asked the bartender if they had any craft beer. She said, “Oh yes!” and reached into the cooler, pulling out a Bud Light Platinum. “That'll be 10 dollars,” she said while cracking open the bottle, ensuring I couldn't renege on the deal. I paid her and began sipping my “craft beer”. The next 30 minutes were spent awkwardly standing in the corner while my friend kept trying to get me to join the mob of flesh and intoxicants. I never ended up wooing the girl, and I was out 20 bucks. Definitely a point of regret.
Prompt: Write a funny story about a handsome president who has to save the world.
Dana Lee wrote:
Did you hear the tale of President Mennedy? He was the handsome president who unexpectedly saved the world. You see, he was not the brightest bulb. President Mennedy was once mocked for his lack of knowledge about American history. He believed that the Civil War was fought between the United States and Canada. We all know he only got elected because he is so handsome.
One day Mennedy was ordering lunch for everyone at the White House. On the day he ordered all the pizza, the owners of the business were working hard on bombs they would use to blow up the entire world. However, due to the large order they did not have time to make the bombs and their plans got ruined in a flash flood in the area.
Prompt: Write a rhyming poem written by a pig.
Pope Jon wrote:
Oh, the things I could be!
Tasty, you'll see!
I could be bits on a bag,
For salads and potatoes.
Or strips on a plate,
Served with toast and tomato.
Oh, the things I could be!
Useful, you'll see!
I could be one foot long,
Handled by professionals,
Or transport phones and makeup,
Complete with decor and handles.
Oh the things I could be!
Inspirational, you'll see!
My voice is borrowed by mankind,
The screech beloved by metal bands.
My body is left to science,
Teens tear me apart with bare hands.
Oh the things I could be!
Dead, mostly!
Prompt: What is your favorite color? Write an ode to it.
Chuck C. wrote:
An Ode to Orange
Ode to beautiful Orange,
The greatest of the hues.
So unique, so rare
Not even a rhyme can be made.
You adorn sweet fruit,
Your glow warms the earth.
Flowers, Pumpkins, and Peppers
They all show your splendor
As hair you make the world
happy and unique
Freckles and paste
are your best friends.
A warm glowing sunset
The resplendence is otherworldly.
Tears and fears all abate
In your wonderful presence.
You wrap the carrot,
The root of God
Making cakes moist
Making my sight clear
Orange, oh Orange
Never stop being amazing
Never let your beauty hide.
Shine it bright.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
To read the new poetry blog run by our own Dana Lee, check it out here: versoliberopoetry.blogspot.com/
Friday, February 20, 2015
Friday Favorites - Ode to Color (POETRY WEEK!)
Today's prompt: What is your favorite color? Write an ode to it.
Dana Lee wrote:
There seems to be a theme going on here because my favorite color is purple and on Wednesday I was writing about a pig. Perhaps it is just a coincidence. Here is my ode to to color of royal:
Ode to Purple
Ode to my favorite color!
The most beautiful in all the lands
When I look at every flower
The purple ones my eyes on to ascend
When I see purple I think of royalty
I imagine kings and queens
Of to their kingdoms there is loyalty
And traveling in only limousines
I will embrace all your perfect shades
Until the end of both our days
And in my hair will be braids
Because purple you are all the craze
Oh purple you have never let me down
You have always been there for me
Much better than the color brown
And even more than the color green
If I could marry a color
Purple, it would definitely be you
Because there is not a duller
Color for my love which is due
Oh purple how I so fancy your honesty
I always believed that was the best policy
And how I would like to drink a cup of tea
Of which isn't at all too spicy!
Pope Jon wrote:
Of Blood and Roses.
Few others can be so diverse.
The color of blood and roses alike.
A color or romance and war.
Of chaos and harmony.
In flames, it is strong and fearsome.
In embers, it is meek and comforting.
In nature, it can mean life or death.
In culture, it can mean good or bad.
When dark it is hellfire.
When light it is childish.
When pure it is unmistakable.
When contrasted it is dominate.
On banners, signs, or letters,
In text, scripts or images,
In love and death and taxes,
If the need is dire or the meaning extreme,
A shade of red, it will be.
Melody Joy wrote:
Ode to Blue
Ode to blue, my favorite hue,
From deepest navy to lightest aqua.
You color the sky, light shades up high,
Broken only by clouds soft and white.
Ode to blue, color so true,
From strong royal to bright sapphire.
The sea calls you hers, where green and blue merge,
Turquoise and indigo, viridian dance.
Ode to blue, I love you anew,
From cold grey-blue to warm azure.
You fill up my eyes to match cerulean skies,
Shifting tints from darker to light.
Ode to blue, the one I cling to,
From pale baby blue to murky midnight.
You paint my jeans and embellish my dreams,
Comfortable, familiar, and trustworthy blue.
To read the new poetry blog run by our own Dana Lee, check it out here: versoliberopoetry.blogspot.com/
Dana Lee wrote:
There seems to be a theme going on here because my favorite color is purple and on Wednesday I was writing about a pig. Perhaps it is just a coincidence. Here is my ode to to color of royal:
Ode to Purple
Ode to my favorite color!
The most beautiful in all the lands
When I look at every flower
The purple ones my eyes on to ascend
When I see purple I think of royalty
I imagine kings and queens
Of to their kingdoms there is loyalty
And traveling in only limousines
I will embrace all your perfect shades
Until the end of both our days
And in my hair will be braids
Because purple you are all the craze
Oh purple you have never let me down
You have always been there for me
Much better than the color brown
And even more than the color green
If I could marry a color
Purple, it would definitely be you
Because there is not a duller
Color for my love which is due
Oh purple how I so fancy your honesty
I always believed that was the best policy
And how I would like to drink a cup of tea
Of which isn't at all too spicy!
Pope Jon wrote:
Of Blood and Roses.
Few others can be so diverse.
The color of blood and roses alike.
A color or romance and war.
Of chaos and harmony.
In flames, it is strong and fearsome.
In embers, it is meek and comforting.
In nature, it can mean life or death.
In culture, it can mean good or bad.
When dark it is hellfire.
When light it is childish.
When pure it is unmistakable.
When contrasted it is dominate.
On banners, signs, or letters,
In text, scripts or images,
In love and death and taxes,
If the need is dire or the meaning extreme,
A shade of red, it will be.
Melody Joy wrote:
Ode to Blue
Ode to blue, my favorite hue,
From deepest navy to lightest aqua.
You color the sky, light shades up high,
Broken only by clouds soft and white.
Ode to blue, color so true,
From strong royal to bright sapphire.
The sea calls you hers, where green and blue merge,
Turquoise and indigo, viridian dance.
Ode to blue, I love you anew,
From cold grey-blue to warm azure.
You fill up my eyes to match cerulean skies,
Shifting tints from darker to light.
Ode to blue, the one I cling to,
From pale baby blue to murky midnight.
You paint my jeans and embellish my dreams,
Comfortable, familiar, and trustworthy blue.
To read the new poetry blog run by our own Dana Lee, check it out here: versoliberopoetry.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Wacky Wednesday - Poetic Pigs (POETRY WEEK!)
Write a rhyming poem written by a pig.
Melody Joy wrote:
I am a pig.
I wear a wig.
I do a jig.
I like to dig.
I saw a twig.
Look! A rig.
Now I zig.
Watch me zig
From the rig
I use the twig
To dig, dig, dig!
Free, I jig
With my wig.
I am a pig.
Chuck C. wrote:
My Obsession
Ribs, Chops, and Bacon.
Oh the delicious, it’s got me ashaken.
Sweet, Salty, Spicy, and meaty
Sure beats the heck out of wheaties.
Is it wrong? Is it askew?
That really depends on your view.
Sure I eat my own kind
Open your mind though, and you'll find
If you were in my shoes,
You would too.
Sure I am a pig
As far as deals go, it’s not that big.
If human was as good as Bacon,
You too, would be Taken.
Dana Lee wrote:
Apparently I helped pick this prompt. Melody Joy asked me to name an animal and without hesitation I said pig. (Pigs are my favorite animals.) So here is my piggy poem:
When Pigs can fly
buy: Theadore da Pig
Peeple say "If Pigs cood fly"
I say when pigs can fly
We will fly hiiii up into the skye
Over da moon
and into da starz
People say "If Pigs cood fly"
I saw one da otter day
Flying in a airplane
Flew right over mi hed
Take dat hoomans
We will conquer the world
Us pigs can do whatever we want
We are smart
We are underestimated
When pigs can fly?
Nonsense!
When humans can
learn
how
to
talk
to
us
pigs!
The End.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
To read the new poetry blog run by our own Dana Lee, check it out here: versoliberopoetry.blogspot.com/
Melody Joy wrote:
I am a pig.
I wear a wig.
I do a jig.
I like to dig.
I saw a twig.
Look! A rig.
Now I zig.
Watch me zig
From the rig
I use the twig
To dig, dig, dig!
Free, I jig
With my wig.
I am a pig.
Chuck C. wrote:
My Obsession
Ribs, Chops, and Bacon.
Oh the delicious, it’s got me ashaken.
Sweet, Salty, Spicy, and meaty
Sure beats the heck out of wheaties.
Is it wrong? Is it askew?
That really depends on your view.
Sure I eat my own kind
Open your mind though, and you'll find
If you were in my shoes,
You would too.
Sure I am a pig
As far as deals go, it’s not that big.
If human was as good as Bacon,
You too, would be Taken.
Dana Lee wrote:
Apparently I helped pick this prompt. Melody Joy asked me to name an animal and without hesitation I said pig. (Pigs are my favorite animals.) So here is my piggy poem:
When Pigs can fly
buy: Theadore da Pig
Peeple say "If Pigs cood fly"
I say when pigs can fly
We will fly hiiii up into the skye
Over da moon
and into da starz
People say "If Pigs cood fly"
I saw one da otter day
Flying in a airplane
Flew right over mi hed
Take dat hoomans
We will conquer the world
Us pigs can do whatever we want
We are smart
We are underestimated
When pigs can fly?
Nonsense!
When humans can
learn
how
to
talk
to
us
pigs!
The End.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
To read the new poetry blog run by our own Dana Lee, check it out here: versoliberopoetry.blogspot.com/
Monday, February 16, 2015
All About Me Monday - I've Been Working on the Poem (POETRY WEEK)
This week is POETRY WEEK!
Today's prompt: Write a poem about your job.
Pope Jon wrote:
My job is simple, some would say;
Though I put it off, day by day.
The expectations are set high;
"Whatever shall I do?" says I.
I'm not a professional, to be sure,
But that won't stop me from stressing more.
So what do I do, what job is expected?
I write silly poems, this one's completed.
Dana Lee wrote:
For those of you who do not know already, I am currently teaching English as a second language in a private school in Honduras. I am teaching second and third graders.
Here goes nothing:
Go be a teacher
God said
No, I resisted.
Go be a teacher
God said.
Fine, I obeyed.
Go teach special education
God said
Why, I asked
Go teach special education
God said
Fine, I obeyed.
Go teach in Honduras
God said
I don't want to!
Go teach in Honduras
God said
I don't want to!
GO TEACH IN HONDURAS
God said
Fine, I obeyed
Work hard everyday
God said
I am, I replied
Work hard everyday
God said
I am, I replied
Good
Was all He said
Teach children English as well as my love
God said
I know, I replied
Keep teaching them my love
I will do my best, I answered
Good
Was all He said.
Chuck C. wrote:
The Call
The end of the world,
The Apocalypse is nigh,
My account is late,
Late charges! How dare you!
It’s only a hundred days late.
Greedy SOB's!
You’re thieves I tell you, THIEVES!
You'll be hearing from my Lawyer!
*Click*
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
To read the new poetry blog run by our own Dana Lee, check it out here: versoliberopoetry.blogspot.com/
Today's prompt: Write a poem about your job.
Pope Jon wrote:
My job is simple, some would say;
Though I put it off, day by day.
The expectations are set high;
"Whatever shall I do?" says I.
I'm not a professional, to be sure,
But that won't stop me from stressing more.
So what do I do, what job is expected?
I write silly poems, this one's completed.
Dana Lee wrote:
For those of you who do not know already, I am currently teaching English as a second language in a private school in Honduras. I am teaching second and third graders.
Here goes nothing:
Go be a teacher
God said
No, I resisted.
Go be a teacher
God said.
Fine, I obeyed.
Go teach special education
God said
Why, I asked
Go teach special education
God said
Fine, I obeyed.
Go teach in Honduras
God said
I don't want to!
Go teach in Honduras
God said
I don't want to!
GO TEACH IN HONDURAS
God said
Fine, I obeyed
Work hard everyday
God said
I am, I replied
Work hard everyday
God said
I am, I replied
Good
Was all He said
Teach children English as well as my love
God said
I know, I replied
Keep teaching them my love
I will do my best, I answered
Good
Was all He said.
Chuck C. wrote:
The Call
The end of the world,
The Apocalypse is nigh,
My account is late,
Late charges! How dare you!
It’s only a hundred days late.
Greedy SOB's!
You’re thieves I tell you, THIEVES!
You'll be hearing from my Lawyer!
*Click*
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
To read the new poetry blog run by our own Dana Lee, check it out here: versoliberopoetry.blogspot.com/
Friday, February 13, 2015
Friday Favorites - New Animals
What are your two favorite animals? Describe a new creature combining the two.
Dana Lee wrote:
My favorite animals are pigs and unicorns. Unicorns have always fascinated me because they are so elegant and pretty. Pigs are, well, just too darn cute. I imagine if the two were combined they would look similar to a rhino. They would be pink and fat with a single horn on the top of their heads. These creatures would use their horns to help animals who cannot provide for themselves. They would be a vigilante animal of sorts. These creatures would be stealthy like a horse and run as fast as one. No one would expect them to run as fast as they do.
Melody Joy wrote:
My favorite animal has always been a cat, and it’s hard to decide on a second favorite, but since horses were my favorite for many years, I’m going to go with a horse.
The catorse is the size of a pony and is ride able. It has the head of a cat although the face is slightly elongated. It has a short, spiked mane that runs down the length of its neck, which is shorter than the neck of the average horse. It has the legs of a horse including hooves, but the legs are proportionally thicker than those of a normal horse. The tail resembles that of a lion, as it starts of similarly to a cat’s and then ends with longer hair like that of a horse.
Their personalities vary depending on the breed and upbringing, but they are generally friendly and readily accept humans as partners. The enjoy attention and grooming but are actually fairly low-maintenance. They can be trained to be ridden, pull buggies, or do any number of tricks. They come in a wide variety of colors and coat patterns as they can take on any coat pattern seen in horses or cats, and may even be a combination of the two.
They are omnivorous, and do require a great amount of space to exercise in. They also enjoy having plenty of shelters in which they can hide. Because their leaping capabilities are superior to those of a horse, extremely high fencing must be used to keep them securely enclosed. Keeping them enclosed is important because of their tendency to leap onto roofs and destroy gardens.
Pope Jon wrote:
Strangely, I have always loved ants. Something about the dedication through a hive mind, the brutality to those who oppose them, and the wide variety of sub-species and individual roles always fasinated me.
My second choice would have to be any bird of prey. Hawks, ospreys, eagles, falcons, you name it. There's something so majestic about them. Independent and deadly. Beautiful and fierce. In a lot of ways, they are the opposite of ants, and yet in a few ways, they are similar. But to paraphrase Tyrion the Imp: make your weaknesses into strengths.
I shall call them Raptor Ants.
Raptor Ants work very similarly to traditional ants: They cooperate flawlessly, they build a hive, and they hunt viciously. The way they achieve all of this, however, is where Raptor Ants stand apart from their lesser cousins.
Only the warrior RAs fly, though they move as quickly and tirelessly as flies. The workers are around an inch and half long, while the warriors are around two inches. The warriors hunt alone, dive bombing reptiles, amphibians, and rodents to mark them as prey. The warrior lets out a high-pitched screech that alerts nearby workers and warriors alike that a target has been marker. The original warrior uses long, sharp talons to latch onto their prey. Once attached, the warrior bites it's prey and injects a venom to slow it's victim considerably. Additional warriors are never more than a few yards away, and arrive hastily to add their weight and venom to the cause. When the prey is brought down, the warriors set to patrolling above the site as guards as the workers harvest meat to feed the hive, as well as anything they can use to construct the hive. Bones, feathers, and fur are returned to the hive and used to add more space to their hives.
Raptor Ants' hives are constructed primarily in trees or other high reaches, forcing workers to walk up and down trees. Workers often construct ladders that dangle towards the ground for easier access, and in cases with a large enough hive, support beams are connected to the ground as well as suitable surfaces above the hive. The hive is guarded with savage force. warriors will attack anything they see as a threat, including bees, dogs, and even humans.
The Raptor Ant's only known predator is the honey badger.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
Dana Lee wrote:
My favorite animals are pigs and unicorns. Unicorns have always fascinated me because they are so elegant and pretty. Pigs are, well, just too darn cute. I imagine if the two were combined they would look similar to a rhino. They would be pink and fat with a single horn on the top of their heads. These creatures would use their horns to help animals who cannot provide for themselves. They would be a vigilante animal of sorts. These creatures would be stealthy like a horse and run as fast as one. No one would expect them to run as fast as they do.
Melody Joy wrote:
My favorite animal has always been a cat, and it’s hard to decide on a second favorite, but since horses were my favorite for many years, I’m going to go with a horse.
The catorse is the size of a pony and is ride able. It has the head of a cat although the face is slightly elongated. It has a short, spiked mane that runs down the length of its neck, which is shorter than the neck of the average horse. It has the legs of a horse including hooves, but the legs are proportionally thicker than those of a normal horse. The tail resembles that of a lion, as it starts of similarly to a cat’s and then ends with longer hair like that of a horse.
Their personalities vary depending on the breed and upbringing, but they are generally friendly and readily accept humans as partners. The enjoy attention and grooming but are actually fairly low-maintenance. They can be trained to be ridden, pull buggies, or do any number of tricks. They come in a wide variety of colors and coat patterns as they can take on any coat pattern seen in horses or cats, and may even be a combination of the two.
They are omnivorous, and do require a great amount of space to exercise in. They also enjoy having plenty of shelters in which they can hide. Because their leaping capabilities are superior to those of a horse, extremely high fencing must be used to keep them securely enclosed. Keeping them enclosed is important because of their tendency to leap onto roofs and destroy gardens.
Pope Jon wrote:
Strangely, I have always loved ants. Something about the dedication through a hive mind, the brutality to those who oppose them, and the wide variety of sub-species and individual roles always fasinated me.
My second choice would have to be any bird of prey. Hawks, ospreys, eagles, falcons, you name it. There's something so majestic about them. Independent and deadly. Beautiful and fierce. In a lot of ways, they are the opposite of ants, and yet in a few ways, they are similar. But to paraphrase Tyrion the Imp: make your weaknesses into strengths.
I shall call them Raptor Ants.
Raptor Ants work very similarly to traditional ants: They cooperate flawlessly, they build a hive, and they hunt viciously. The way they achieve all of this, however, is where Raptor Ants stand apart from their lesser cousins.
Only the warrior RAs fly, though they move as quickly and tirelessly as flies. The workers are around an inch and half long, while the warriors are around two inches. The warriors hunt alone, dive bombing reptiles, amphibians, and rodents to mark them as prey. The warrior lets out a high-pitched screech that alerts nearby workers and warriors alike that a target has been marker. The original warrior uses long, sharp talons to latch onto their prey. Once attached, the warrior bites it's prey and injects a venom to slow it's victim considerably. Additional warriors are never more than a few yards away, and arrive hastily to add their weight and venom to the cause. When the prey is brought down, the warriors set to patrolling above the site as guards as the workers harvest meat to feed the hive, as well as anything they can use to construct the hive. Bones, feathers, and fur are returned to the hive and used to add more space to their hives.
Raptor Ants' hives are constructed primarily in trees or other high reaches, forcing workers to walk up and down trees. Workers often construct ladders that dangle towards the ground for easier access, and in cases with a large enough hive, support beams are connected to the ground as well as suitable surfaces above the hive. The hive is guarded with savage force. warriors will attack anything they see as a threat, including bees, dogs, and even humans.
The Raptor Ant's only known predator is the honey badger.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Wacky Wednesday - How the President Saved the World!
Today's prompt: Write a funny story about a handsome president who has to save the world.
Melody Joy wrote:
President Allen S. Konigsberg always denied that he won the presidency based on his previous popularity as an actor/model/singer/dancer/film maker. However, he would not deny that the world was in serious jeopardy.
There are some fads that should remain popular forever, such as the full beard. There are some fads that should make occasional appearances to remind people of simpler times, such as the women’s bob cut. Then, there are some fads that should remain in the past, as their time has come and gone.
Such as the mullet.
The president himself sported a look that had previously been primarily featured only in fashion magazines. The sides were trimmed shorter than the crown of his head, and the front part swept forward, outward and upward like a large wave sweeping upward toward the heavens. Although the late night hosts joked that his hairstyle had helped him win the presidency, Konigsberg only disagreed with them in public. In private, when he stared at himself in his full-length mirror for over an hour every night as was his custom, he agreed with them. His hair is what made people take him seriously.
But bad fashionistas and big TV networks around the world that celebrated them as not only acceptable but also as preferable had caused them to begin to make a comeback. It started in Japan, as these things always do, and soon had spread through China, Australia, India, France, and possibly Canada (this has been unconfirmed due to confusion over whether or not moose are people).
When it reached the shored of the United States at the heads of the popular England-based boy band That Direction, President Konigsberg knew it was time to take action. He had to save the world from mullets everywhere before the infection got worse, before this heinous fashion crime spread any farther. He feared what would happen if it hit Hollywood, or his own White House.
So, he did the only thing he knew. He held a press conference and paused for 6 pregnant seconds before addressing the world with the words that soon would become more popular than his acceptance speech in which he thanked spiral notebooks and the English language for winning him the presidency.
“My fellow Americans and non-Americans throughout the world. It is under the most distressing circumstances that I come to you today. It has been brought to my attention through several sources including MTV and America’s Next Top Model that a particular hairstyle had recently made a come-back despite the fact that it is the biggest abomination to fashion history. It is something that I refuse to even name. After much discussions with my most trusted advisors, I have concluded that there is only one way that I can repair the damage that has already been done and hopefully reverse as much of it as possible.”
One of his assistants stepped up to his side with a pair of electric hair clippers in his hand. The president took them and the world fell silent, waiting to see what he would do next. A soft buzz could be heard as he switched them on, and he was almost certain he could hear women across the nation screaming in protest as he put the clippers against his head and swept them slowly backwards against his scalp until there was a bald streak the length of his head and the width of the clippers. Taking a deep breath, he continued until there was nothing left of his luscious but patch stubble.
Pope Jon wrote:
No one could have seen this coming.
An uprising of boar? Horses possessed by demons? Potholes?
Livingbro County was in dismay, and there was only one man who could rally to save the world from the evil and turmoil that was spreading in the land he called home.
Lukas Hoek, President of the Beard Appreciation Society or Something, or BASS, whistled through his nose as he shook his head, a frown of grim determination on his handsome face. He paced through his room, searching desperately for his keys. The misplacement gave him time to consider his options. He knew his dear friend, Pope Jon would ride to his aid, but hesitated to rely on the reinforcements. The Pope's course, red beard, as mighty as it was, was a long ways off.
Gall dang it. Lukas thought, having realized he'd left his truck running the entire time he'd search for his keys. As he drove away, a quarter a tank of gas lighter, He considered his options. Kirkle would no doubt ride out with him against the boars. He could count on The Southern Calf and Tavioka the Tall as well. Even though he knew literally every man, woman, and child in all of Livingbro County, Lukas feared they would not be enough. Furthermore, Lukas could only trust so many of the horses, what with Mick the demon infesting and throwing ordinarily sound allies into chaos.
Lukas honked the car horn at a bird he spotted on a fence as he accepted what he must do.
It would seem that a mighty stand must be made, to hold the boars at bay until his allies from other counties could rally beard and bro to rout the offending boars, once and for all.
Lukas pulled one of his many knives out, clenched it tightly in his fist, and nodded slowly in determination. Luke could only think of one man he could look up to now, who's example would inspire him to the task set before him.
"What would Bauer do?"
Chuck C. wrote:
The Trial
Just elected by the first landslide victory in recent memory, President James J. Benjamin was considered by most to be the most dashing man to have ever held the office. A young forty-six years old, chiseled jawline, strong brown eyes, and a full head of salt and pepper hair that projects the wisdom of the ages and the vigor of youth. His swearing-in ceremony was attending by everyone from the Dalai Lama to the great Sir Elton John. It was quite the affair, one the whole nation turned their eyes to.
It was a short-lived celebration though. Not two minutes into sitting down at his desk the White House began to shake. The Chairman of the Joint chiefs of staff came crashing through the White House door with a cadre of secret service agents.
“Mr. President! NORAD has detected a large vessel descending on Washington D.C.,” the Chairmen shouted. The sky outside darkened. The president walked towards the window. A large circular vessel appeared from behind a wall of clouds. Its greenish-black hull blotted out the sun’s light and cast a shadow over the entire D.C area.
“Why wasn’t there any warning?” President Benjamin inquired, a incredible calm in his voice.
“NORAD satellites didn’t detect the thing until it was almost right on us. It must have some sort of cloaking....” The chairman was cut off by a large avian creature appearing right behind the newly-crowned president. The creature had winged arms and stood on two legs, deep black feathers, and a heavy pointed beak. The secret service agents leveled their machine pistols on the creature but dare not fire for fear of hitting the president. The bird-like creature leaped behind the president and grasped him tightly. It then reached for a button his wrist and the two of them disappeared in a blue-green flash.
The president appeared in the middle of an arena surrounded by similar bird-like creatures. They stood around on the bleachers, creaking and squawking madly. In front of him was none other than Vladimir Putin. President Benjamin was almost as shocked to see him as to be in a stadium full of avian aliens. Presumed dead after a large explosion two years previously at the Kremlin, the President of the Russian Federation had not been seen or heard from since. The source of the explosion remained a mystery to this day. Eye witnesses claim to have seen a large flash of green light but the reports were never confirmed. He looked a little worse for wear. Scars and wounds scored his rather toned body. He carried a rather flamboyantly shaped sword. He stood there, gripping the sword, his chest heaving with wild rage.
A loud klaxon sounded and the crowd all fell silent. “Mr. President, welcome to the trial!” a high pitched voice screeched, echoing throughout the large stadium. The crowd went wild with screeches at the word “Trial.” “The combined fleet of the Krehak has descended on your tiny planet. You are presented with a choice. Either you two fight, and fight to the death, or we turn your puny planet into a smoking crater. You choose.” A sword not unlike the one Putin carried dropped from the ceiling at the feet of the young president.
He was still in shock from the sudden and massive change in circumstances when Vladimir Putin screamed like a wild banshee and lunged at him, kicking him to the floor. He raised his sword and looked down at the president.
“Dosvedanya, Mr. President” He said as he lunged with his blood stained blade. President Benjamin rolled out of the way, his years of martial arts training engaging.
“Vladimir, we don’t have to play their game” He begged as the Russian leader. It was useless. The man was near feral in his appearance and demeanor. He came at the president with ferocity. The President blocked and parried each blow expertly.
“Vlad! Stop! We can find another way,” he cried. Again, it was futile. The president short kicked the Russian leaders ankle, swept with his other leg and pushed him to the ground. He pressed his knee against the struggling mans chest and raised his sword, ready to plunge it into his chest. For brief moment peace came over Putin's face. He gazed into the eyes of the young president.
“Kak! Kak! Kak!” The crowd chanted. He didn’t need to know their language to know what they wanted him to do.
“Do it, Jim. End my misery.... Save the world,” Putin whispered. The President, his chest heavy, ready to finish it, paused.
“No Vlad, we are better than this,” he said. He threw his sword and stood up. He extended his hand to the fallen leader, offering help up. Putin took his offer and stood up next to him. The crowd fell silent for the first time since he had arrived.
“We are not savages! We do not kill each other for sport, we do not play for the entertainment of some inter galactic bully. Destroy us if you wish, but I will not compromise who we are to save us,” he shouted at the crowd.
He heard a slow clap from the distance. A regally-adorned bird-like creature emerged from the shadows. “Congratulations Mr. President, you passed the test.”
He winked and snapped his fingers. There was a flash of light and suddenly the President and the Russian leader were back in the Oval Office. The Secret Service agents leveled thier guns on them momentarily before realizing who it was.
“Mr. President!” They rushed to his side. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff ran over to him, “What happened Jim? All the ships have left and broken orbit. What did you do?... Wait... Is that Vladimir Putin? Tell me what’s going on Jim!” he asked excitedly.
“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” he said, looking out the window towards the sky, contemplating what was meant by the royal-looking bird-man, “But I have a mean craving for some KFC. Who's game?”
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
Melody Joy wrote:
President Allen S. Konigsberg always denied that he won the presidency based on his previous popularity as an actor/model/singer/dancer/film maker. However, he would not deny that the world was in serious jeopardy.
There are some fads that should remain popular forever, such as the full beard. There are some fads that should make occasional appearances to remind people of simpler times, such as the women’s bob cut. Then, there are some fads that should remain in the past, as their time has come and gone.
Such as the mullet.
The president himself sported a look that had previously been primarily featured only in fashion magazines. The sides were trimmed shorter than the crown of his head, and the front part swept forward, outward and upward like a large wave sweeping upward toward the heavens. Although the late night hosts joked that his hairstyle had helped him win the presidency, Konigsberg only disagreed with them in public. In private, when he stared at himself in his full-length mirror for over an hour every night as was his custom, he agreed with them. His hair is what made people take him seriously.
President Allen S. Konigsberg
But bad fashionistas and big TV networks around the world that celebrated them as not only acceptable but also as preferable had caused them to begin to make a comeback. It started in Japan, as these things always do, and soon had spread through China, Australia, India, France, and possibly Canada (this has been unconfirmed due to confusion over whether or not moose are people).
When it reached the shored of the United States at the heads of the popular England-based boy band That Direction, President Konigsberg knew it was time to take action. He had to save the world from mullets everywhere before the infection got worse, before this heinous fashion crime spread any farther. He feared what would happen if it hit Hollywood, or his own White House.
So, he did the only thing he knew. He held a press conference and paused for 6 pregnant seconds before addressing the world with the words that soon would become more popular than his acceptance speech in which he thanked spiral notebooks and the English language for winning him the presidency.
“My fellow Americans and non-Americans throughout the world. It is under the most distressing circumstances that I come to you today. It has been brought to my attention through several sources including MTV and America’s Next Top Model that a particular hairstyle had recently made a come-back despite the fact that it is the biggest abomination to fashion history. It is something that I refuse to even name. After much discussions with my most trusted advisors, I have concluded that there is only one way that I can repair the damage that has already been done and hopefully reverse as much of it as possible.”
One of his assistants stepped up to his side with a pair of electric hair clippers in his hand. The president took them and the world fell silent, waiting to see what he would do next. A soft buzz could be heard as he switched them on, and he was almost certain he could hear women across the nation screaming in protest as he put the clippers against his head and swept them slowly backwards against his scalp until there was a bald streak the length of his head and the width of the clippers. Taking a deep breath, he continued until there was nothing left of his luscious but patch stubble.
Pope Jon wrote:
No one could have seen this coming.
An uprising of boar? Horses possessed by demons? Potholes?
Livingbro County was in dismay, and there was only one man who could rally to save the world from the evil and turmoil that was spreading in the land he called home.
Lukas Hoek, President of the Beard Appreciation Society or Something, or BASS, whistled through his nose as he shook his head, a frown of grim determination on his handsome face. He paced through his room, searching desperately for his keys. The misplacement gave him time to consider his options. He knew his dear friend, Pope Jon would ride to his aid, but hesitated to rely on the reinforcements. The Pope's course, red beard, as mighty as it was, was a long ways off.
Gall dang it. Lukas thought, having realized he'd left his truck running the entire time he'd search for his keys. As he drove away, a quarter a tank of gas lighter, He considered his options. Kirkle would no doubt ride out with him against the boars. He could count on The Southern Calf and Tavioka the Tall as well. Even though he knew literally every man, woman, and child in all of Livingbro County, Lukas feared they would not be enough. Furthermore, Lukas could only trust so many of the horses, what with Mick the demon infesting and throwing ordinarily sound allies into chaos.
Lukas honked the car horn at a bird he spotted on a fence as he accepted what he must do.
It would seem that a mighty stand must be made, to hold the boars at bay until his allies from other counties could rally beard and bro to rout the offending boars, once and for all.
Lukas pulled one of his many knives out, clenched it tightly in his fist, and nodded slowly in determination. Luke could only think of one man he could look up to now, who's example would inspire him to the task set before him.
"What would Bauer do?"
Chuck C. wrote:
The Trial
Just elected by the first landslide victory in recent memory, President James J. Benjamin was considered by most to be the most dashing man to have ever held the office. A young forty-six years old, chiseled jawline, strong brown eyes, and a full head of salt and pepper hair that projects the wisdom of the ages and the vigor of youth. His swearing-in ceremony was attending by everyone from the Dalai Lama to the great Sir Elton John. It was quite the affair, one the whole nation turned their eyes to.
It was a short-lived celebration though. Not two minutes into sitting down at his desk the White House began to shake. The Chairman of the Joint chiefs of staff came crashing through the White House door with a cadre of secret service agents.
“Mr. President! NORAD has detected a large vessel descending on Washington D.C.,” the Chairmen shouted. The sky outside darkened. The president walked towards the window. A large circular vessel appeared from behind a wall of clouds. Its greenish-black hull blotted out the sun’s light and cast a shadow over the entire D.C area.
“Why wasn’t there any warning?” President Benjamin inquired, a incredible calm in his voice.
“NORAD satellites didn’t detect the thing until it was almost right on us. It must have some sort of cloaking....” The chairman was cut off by a large avian creature appearing right behind the newly-crowned president. The creature had winged arms and stood on two legs, deep black feathers, and a heavy pointed beak. The secret service agents leveled their machine pistols on the creature but dare not fire for fear of hitting the president. The bird-like creature leaped behind the president and grasped him tightly. It then reached for a button his wrist and the two of them disappeared in a blue-green flash.
The president appeared in the middle of an arena surrounded by similar bird-like creatures. They stood around on the bleachers, creaking and squawking madly. In front of him was none other than Vladimir Putin. President Benjamin was almost as shocked to see him as to be in a stadium full of avian aliens. Presumed dead after a large explosion two years previously at the Kremlin, the President of the Russian Federation had not been seen or heard from since. The source of the explosion remained a mystery to this day. Eye witnesses claim to have seen a large flash of green light but the reports were never confirmed. He looked a little worse for wear. Scars and wounds scored his rather toned body. He carried a rather flamboyantly shaped sword. He stood there, gripping the sword, his chest heaving with wild rage.
A loud klaxon sounded and the crowd all fell silent. “Mr. President, welcome to the trial!” a high pitched voice screeched, echoing throughout the large stadium. The crowd went wild with screeches at the word “Trial.” “The combined fleet of the Krehak has descended on your tiny planet. You are presented with a choice. Either you two fight, and fight to the death, or we turn your puny planet into a smoking crater. You choose.” A sword not unlike the one Putin carried dropped from the ceiling at the feet of the young president.
He was still in shock from the sudden and massive change in circumstances when Vladimir Putin screamed like a wild banshee and lunged at him, kicking him to the floor. He raised his sword and looked down at the president.
“Dosvedanya, Mr. President” He said as he lunged with his blood stained blade. President Benjamin rolled out of the way, his years of martial arts training engaging.
“Vladimir, we don’t have to play their game” He begged as the Russian leader. It was useless. The man was near feral in his appearance and demeanor. He came at the president with ferocity. The President blocked and parried each blow expertly.
“Vlad! Stop! We can find another way,” he cried. Again, it was futile. The president short kicked the Russian leaders ankle, swept with his other leg and pushed him to the ground. He pressed his knee against the struggling mans chest and raised his sword, ready to plunge it into his chest. For brief moment peace came over Putin's face. He gazed into the eyes of the young president.
“Kak! Kak! Kak!” The crowd chanted. He didn’t need to know their language to know what they wanted him to do.
“Do it, Jim. End my misery.... Save the world,” Putin whispered. The President, his chest heavy, ready to finish it, paused.
“No Vlad, we are better than this,” he said. He threw his sword and stood up. He extended his hand to the fallen leader, offering help up. Putin took his offer and stood up next to him. The crowd fell silent for the first time since he had arrived.
“We are not savages! We do not kill each other for sport, we do not play for the entertainment of some inter galactic bully. Destroy us if you wish, but I will not compromise who we are to save us,” he shouted at the crowd.
He heard a slow clap from the distance. A regally-adorned bird-like creature emerged from the shadows. “Congratulations Mr. President, you passed the test.”
He winked and snapped his fingers. There was a flash of light and suddenly the President and the Russian leader were back in the Oval Office. The Secret Service agents leveled thier guns on them momentarily before realizing who it was.
“Mr. President!” They rushed to his side. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff ran over to him, “What happened Jim? All the ships have left and broken orbit. What did you do?... Wait... Is that Vladimir Putin? Tell me what’s going on Jim!” he asked excitedly.
“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” he said, looking out the window towards the sky, contemplating what was meant by the royal-looking bird-man, “But I have a mean craving for some KFC. Who's game?”
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Monday, February 9, 2015
All About Me Monday - Haunting Decisions
Today's prompt: Talk about a decision that came back to haunt you (can be funny or serious).
Dana Lee wrote:
I am a fat kid at heart who loves food. This means that there's always food I want to eat but need to resist in order to prevent gaining a million pounds. It seems as though everything I eat adds on about 10 pounds. I'm not kidding! (This is one of the perks of growing older kids.)
Between Thanksgiving and New Year's Eve I ate more than my fair share of food. I couldn't help it....it all tasted so good. However, during this time frame I was not exercising as much as I should have been. I was stressed over an upcoming test and I had little to no motivation most days. I knew I should not have weighed myself. I knew I would not like what I saw.
I did it.
It was the moment of honesty.
"Here goes nothing," I said.
I gained about 20 pounds according to the scale.
Well, I can always start fresh next year... oh look! Cake.
Pope Jon wrote:
I have countless decisions like this, so I'd like to list the most common types considering that I don't have a single great story.
Every time I begin to get into a book series, television show, or play a video game, the plot gets spoiled for me. The actual decisions that do the haunting include looking up some facts, or further information about characters or settings in the case that I don't fully understand something. Sometimes it's because an image on the internet just shows up that gives away a plot twist. A few times endings have been included on a list of the greatest, and I haphazardly see just enough to figure out what happens.
I love pico de gallo. My digestive system, however, despises it. Every time I eat it, I nonchalantly remark that "I'll pay for this later," but when I do in fact pay, there is nothing nonchalant about what transpires.
My final haunt exists scattered throughout the trunk of my car, boxes in my basement, and files on my computer. I absolutely LOVE to invest in hobbies that no one else around me seems quite as passionate about. Sure, people usually try my new exciting hobby, but their lack of interest is always apparent, and I lack the will to force them to enjoy themselves, so I quit as well.
Melody Joy wrote:
When we were younger, my brother had a severe aversion to gristle and any part of a meat-based meal that was not meat. This meant whenever we had chicken, he would waste quite a bit of meat because of how much stuff he carelessly tossed to the side. I often picked through his refuse and ate all the meat that he had put to the side.
One day when we were having chicken, we were having a slightly heated discussion about his propensity to waste so much meat and so I made a bet with him that he couldn’t eat all the meat from his drumstick. He probably never ate so meticulously before, but $5 was on the line, and that was a lot back then.
At the end of the meal, he presented his usual pile of skin, tendons, and bone to me to sort through. This time, however, I had a hard time finding meat in the mass. I was beginning to lose hope and believed that I had lost the bet when I found a sliver of meat attached to a bit of gristle. I held it up triumphantly, declaring my victory.
But my brother denied that my treasure was meat, claiming it to be a piece of gristle which he had mistaken it for when he had left it in the discard mound in the first place. In order to prove that what I had was in fact meat, I made a terrible decision. I ate it.
As I swallowed that morsel of chicken, I swallowed the only evidence I had that I had won the bet. It was his word against mine, and my parents (wisely) chose to avoid taking sides. He claimed that in a moment of desperation I had eaten a piece of gristle just to win the bet, and I had no proof to back up the fact which was that he had wasted meat.
Years later, the debate continues, and I will forever regret eating that meat to prove my point instead of handing it over to one of my parents to verify.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
Dana Lee wrote:
I am a fat kid at heart who loves food. This means that there's always food I want to eat but need to resist in order to prevent gaining a million pounds. It seems as though everything I eat adds on about 10 pounds. I'm not kidding! (This is one of the perks of growing older kids.)
Between Thanksgiving and New Year's Eve I ate more than my fair share of food. I couldn't help it....it all tasted so good. However, during this time frame I was not exercising as much as I should have been. I was stressed over an upcoming test and I had little to no motivation most days. I knew I should not have weighed myself. I knew I would not like what I saw.
I did it.
It was the moment of honesty.
"Here goes nothing," I said.
I gained about 20 pounds according to the scale.
Well, I can always start fresh next year... oh look! Cake.
Pope Jon wrote:
I have countless decisions like this, so I'd like to list the most common types considering that I don't have a single great story.
Every time I begin to get into a book series, television show, or play a video game, the plot gets spoiled for me. The actual decisions that do the haunting include looking up some facts, or further information about characters or settings in the case that I don't fully understand something. Sometimes it's because an image on the internet just shows up that gives away a plot twist. A few times endings have been included on a list of the greatest, and I haphazardly see just enough to figure out what happens.
I love pico de gallo. My digestive system, however, despises it. Every time I eat it, I nonchalantly remark that "I'll pay for this later," but when I do in fact pay, there is nothing nonchalant about what transpires.
My final haunt exists scattered throughout the trunk of my car, boxes in my basement, and files on my computer. I absolutely LOVE to invest in hobbies that no one else around me seems quite as passionate about. Sure, people usually try my new exciting hobby, but their lack of interest is always apparent, and I lack the will to force them to enjoy themselves, so I quit as well.
Melody Joy wrote:
When we were younger, my brother had a severe aversion to gristle and any part of a meat-based meal that was not meat. This meant whenever we had chicken, he would waste quite a bit of meat because of how much stuff he carelessly tossed to the side. I often picked through his refuse and ate all the meat that he had put to the side.
One day when we were having chicken, we were having a slightly heated discussion about his propensity to waste so much meat and so I made a bet with him that he couldn’t eat all the meat from his drumstick. He probably never ate so meticulously before, but $5 was on the line, and that was a lot back then.
At the end of the meal, he presented his usual pile of skin, tendons, and bone to me to sort through. This time, however, I had a hard time finding meat in the mass. I was beginning to lose hope and believed that I had lost the bet when I found a sliver of meat attached to a bit of gristle. I held it up triumphantly, declaring my victory.
But my brother denied that my treasure was meat, claiming it to be a piece of gristle which he had mistaken it for when he had left it in the discard mound in the first place. In order to prove that what I had was in fact meat, I made a terrible decision. I ate it.
As I swallowed that morsel of chicken, I swallowed the only evidence I had that I had won the bet. It was his word against mine, and my parents (wisely) chose to avoid taking sides. He claimed that in a moment of desperation I had eaten a piece of gristle just to win the bet, and I had no proof to back up the fact which was that he had wasted meat.
Years later, the debate continues, and I will forever regret eating that meat to prove my point instead of handing it over to one of my parents to verify.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
Friday, February 6, 2015
Friday Favorites - Fan Letters
Today's prompt: Who is your favorite actor? Write them a letter as a crazed fan.
Chuck C. wrote:
Dear Nick Offerman,
Your work as the character Ron Swanson has been foundational and formative to who I am. Once I was a flag burning, tree hugging, soy eating, long-haired hippie who's great loves were cannabis and Grateful Dead albums.
Thanks to you, I have now seen the light. I wish to be shown the ways of the Swanson. Teach me to live off the land. Teach me woodworking and how to woo the ladies with the sweet sweet sounds of the saxophone. Teach me how to live a life as an eternal thorn in big government’s side.
After I recover from my surgery permanently furling my brow (to make me look more like you), we can begin my lessons. Return a letter to this post office box with the where and when.
Sincerely,
Chuck C. Your adoring fan
Melody Joy wrote:
Dear Hugh Jackman,
I am your number one fan. I’ve seen every movie you’ve been in at least 7 times. I’m particularly fond of any one in which you remove your shirt or sing. I am also a fan of the show Scrubs, and always get upset when Dr. Cox speaks out against you. I think that is unfair and that he is just jealous of your abs and great body. And also your singing voice.
You are an awesome actor, and as an aspiring actress myself, I think you could teach me a lot. So, I have enclosed all of my contact information so that you can get in contact with me. I will meet you anywhere, any day, and anytime. Please let me know what works best for you, and I’ll drop everything to spend some time chatting with you.
You can also find enclosed a lock of my hair and several photographs of myself so that you’ll be able to recognize me when we meet. You can do what you wish with the lock of hair and the photographs. I have several thousand photographs of you that make up one wall of my room as well as a few larger ones in the corner where I light candles and pray for you.
Have you ever considered being a sperm donor? As you can see from my enclosed photographs, I am extremely attractive and believe that my genes combined with yours would produce fabulous children. I of course would not ask you to be a part of our children’s lives, unless you wanted to. I know you’re very busy so I won’t force you to spend time with our children, but I know you understand the benefit of children knowing their father.
Anyway, let me know about meeting up and sperm donation.
- Your Biggest Fan
Dana Lee wrote:
If you have not figured it out already, I am a huge Harry Potter fan. My favorite actor is Alan Rickman. (They seriously could not have picked a better Snape!) Here is my letter to one Severus Snape:
Dear Professor Snape,
I am writing this letter in hopes that you will give me a letter of recommendation for a job prospect. You are the wisest wizard I have ever met in my life. I am aware that getting this letter to you will be near to impossible because you beyond the grave. I have knowledge of dark lords that can assist me in getting this letter to you.
I was in your potions class alongside Luna Lovegood. You probably do not remember me because I was constantly wearing an invisibility cloak. I inherited it from my great great great uncle. The powers I have to make potions are far beyond anything that stupid Potter kid can do and I am willing to prove this to you as needed.
The job I am seeking is head potion make in a local drug store here in England. I will be working alongside the best potion makers in the world to help cure common diseases such as the flu for muggles. Please respond by owl as soon as you get this. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
With regards, Rowena Ravenclaw
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
Chuck C. wrote:
Dear Nick Offerman,
Your work as the character Ron Swanson has been foundational and formative to who I am. Once I was a flag burning, tree hugging, soy eating, long-haired hippie who's great loves were cannabis and Grateful Dead albums.
Thanks to you, I have now seen the light. I wish to be shown the ways of the Swanson. Teach me to live off the land. Teach me woodworking and how to woo the ladies with the sweet sweet sounds of the saxophone. Teach me how to live a life as an eternal thorn in big government’s side.
After I recover from my surgery permanently furling my brow (to make me look more like you), we can begin my lessons. Return a letter to this post office box with the where and when.
Sincerely,
Chuck C. Your adoring fan
Melody Joy wrote:
Dear Hugh Jackman,
I am your number one fan. I’ve seen every movie you’ve been in at least 7 times. I’m particularly fond of any one in which you remove your shirt or sing. I am also a fan of the show Scrubs, and always get upset when Dr. Cox speaks out against you. I think that is unfair and that he is just jealous of your abs and great body. And also your singing voice.
You are an awesome actor, and as an aspiring actress myself, I think you could teach me a lot. So, I have enclosed all of my contact information so that you can get in contact with me. I will meet you anywhere, any day, and anytime. Please let me know what works best for you, and I’ll drop everything to spend some time chatting with you.
You can also find enclosed a lock of my hair and several photographs of myself so that you’ll be able to recognize me when we meet. You can do what you wish with the lock of hair and the photographs. I have several thousand photographs of you that make up one wall of my room as well as a few larger ones in the corner where I light candles and pray for you.
Have you ever considered being a sperm donor? As you can see from my enclosed photographs, I am extremely attractive and believe that my genes combined with yours would produce fabulous children. I of course would not ask you to be a part of our children’s lives, unless you wanted to. I know you’re very busy so I won’t force you to spend time with our children, but I know you understand the benefit of children knowing their father.
Anyway, let me know about meeting up and sperm donation.
- Your Biggest Fan
Dana Lee wrote:
If you have not figured it out already, I am a huge Harry Potter fan. My favorite actor is Alan Rickman. (They seriously could not have picked a better Snape!) Here is my letter to one Severus Snape:
Dear Professor Snape,
I am writing this letter in hopes that you will give me a letter of recommendation for a job prospect. You are the wisest wizard I have ever met in my life. I am aware that getting this letter to you will be near to impossible because you beyond the grave. I have knowledge of dark lords that can assist me in getting this letter to you.
I was in your potions class alongside Luna Lovegood. You probably do not remember me because I was constantly wearing an invisibility cloak. I inherited it from my great great great uncle. The powers I have to make potions are far beyond anything that stupid Potter kid can do and I am willing to prove this to you as needed.
The job I am seeking is head potion make in a local drug store here in England. I will be working alongside the best potion makers in the world to help cure common diseases such as the flu for muggles. Please respond by owl as soon as you get this. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
With regards, Rowena Ravenclaw
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
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