Escape from Elba
Exiles of the New York Times
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Author Topic: Creative Writing  (Read 27083 times)
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Beppo
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« Reply #1605 on: July 20, 2007, 02:11:45 PM »

Unbeknowns to Chloe the mechanic had suffered all his days from a serious case of overengineeeringitis - he was famous in his home town for taking things forty steps beyond the necessary . It wasn't the air in the tire it was some displacement in the weight of the vehicle that was causing the air shortage. Then it was the road. And pretty soon he was blaming his mama. Chloe eventually thumbed down a pink tractor...
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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #1606 on: July 20, 2007, 02:15:19 PM »

trailer, driven by Wilfred Smith-Smythe Anchovy, younger son and disinherited brach of the Anchovy tree, who
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What does it matter?  All is grace.
Beppo
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« Reply #1607 on: July 20, 2007, 02:18:12 PM »

wasn't stoppin' for nobody that day. Yet as he chugged along, enraged by his historical ineptitude, the sight of a young buxom redhead (he didn't see the mechanic) engorged every aspect of his unfarmed alabaster meatpole to the extent an oiled Chloe asked him: "Mister, what does unfarmed mean?"

Our shy pink tractor disinheritant blushed.

"Let's just say...

The clouds beckoned. Ixion raged!

"...
« Last Edit: July 20, 2007, 02:35:13 PM by Beppo » Logged
Eva
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« Reply #1608 on: July 20, 2007, 04:32:52 PM »

and then it rained...


and rained             and rained some more           rain


After all that rain Chloe was a redhead no more and the virginal Anchovy, well, you guessed it...
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Beppo
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« Reply #1609 on: July 20, 2007, 04:46:15 PM »

reigned happily ever after as the eponymous King Smytheon of Anchovy not once
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desdemona222b
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« Reply #1610 on: July 21, 2007, 06:30:17 PM »

decorated with a gay blue ribbon of watermarked silk.
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barton
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« Reply #1611 on: July 22, 2007, 02:20:53 PM »

perky Iowa State cheerleaders who have been sent to the Iowa Home for the Hamstrung to recover their perspective and train orphaned marmots to
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"History doesn't repeat itself, but it often rhymes."
whiskeypriest
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« Reply #1612 on: July 22, 2007, 02:32:46 PM »

commit suicide by skinning themselves, thus saving furriers valuable time and energy
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barton
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« Reply #1613 on: July 22, 2007, 02:40:36 PM »

and boosting sales of "Existentialism Made Simple For Fur-Bearing Mammals," by Alain Robbe-Grillet, a book that has suffered in competition with the recent publication of
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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #1614 on: July 22, 2007, 02:42:58 PM »

Harry Potter and the Ginormous Bales of Cash, which was considered the greatest, in terms of profits, book since
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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #1615 on: July 22, 2007, 02:45:37 PM »

Off topic: I was idly watching the end of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire on HBO, and I noticed the reconstituted Voldemort sniffing as if he was smelling the air.  The problem being, he has no nose.  If he has no nose, how does he smell?
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harrie
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« Reply #1616 on: July 22, 2007, 04:58:58 PM »

AWFUL!!

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desdemona222b
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« Reply #1617 on: July 22, 2007, 09:53:05 PM »

Anchovy was enjoying Sunday dinner at his brother's house, Giles Lytton-Smythe, Duke of Argyle.  The beautiful weather inspired a picnic consisting of cucumber sandwiches and fresh strawberries, roasted pheasant, stewed lamprey, and
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desdemona222b
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« Reply #1618 on: July 22, 2007, 11:18:09 PM »

watercress soup.

A young man of noble physiognomy strode across the lawn with great purpose.  He walked right up to Anchovy, removed his right glove, and bitch-slapped him.

"I say!" responded Anchovy, "So it's fisticuffs you want young fellow?"

"No," retorted the young Earl of Essex.  "I just felt like bitch-slapping you, old man, that's all."
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desdemona222b
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« Reply #1619 on: July 22, 2007, 11:19:09 PM »

"And another thing," cried Essex.  "Your physiognomy is bestial.  What are you doing with title and a manor, anyway?"
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