Escape from Elba
Exiles of the New York Times
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Author Topic: Creative Writing  (Read 27121 times)
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desdemona222b
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« Reply #1815 on: September 14, 2007, 10:07:26 AM »

"Who's Gerta?" Eva asked.

"Werther," Bart mumbled.  "I am channeling Werther!  ACH!  Boo-hoo!"
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barton
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« Reply #1816 on: September 14, 2007, 11:48:17 AM »

Eva looked down at the instruments to check the engine speed, and realized that her Dart lacked a tachometer.  It was clear that she was going to have estimate the RPMs based on vehicular velocity, wheel circumference, and gear ratios.  It wasn't going to be easy, but she was ready to do just about anything to drown out Bart's sudden attack of angst, weltschmerz, sturm-und-drang, and other inappropriate German moods that had no place seated next to a hot vegan tamale like Winona Ryder. 

She looked back, wondering how he had managed to bash his head against the steering wheel while seated in the back seat in a rather slumped position.  There was no doubt it had happened, as she observed welts rising on his forehead in a pattern that precisely matched the nubs on the steering wheel.  He was starting to look like one of those aliens found in some of the later Star Trek series, in which an extraterrestrial gene pool was suggested by the pasting of bumps onto an otherwise totally human-looking head and body.

"Ach, du liebe!" cried Bart.  "Mein Gott, wo sind die Zitronen??  Warum is das verkehrsampel?"

"Hey," said Winona, "maybe you should put your poor head in my lap and..."



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"History doesn't repeat itself, but it often rhymes."
desdemona222b
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« Reply #1817 on: September 14, 2007, 12:38:04 PM »

  Cheesy
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barton
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« Reply #1818 on: September 16, 2007, 06:19:34 PM »

"What's THAT," cried Winona, looking around wildly and making her bosom undulate like the MIT wave-tank as she did.

"Sounded like 'meep meep' to me," said Eva.

"It did," agreed Bart.

"My God," cried Eva, looking in her rearview mirror, "it's..."

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« Reply #1819 on: September 16, 2007, 06:51:30 PM »

... the snake bit coyote from scene 23."

Breathlessly, he panted, "Is this where it is?"

"Where what is, you fool?" Eva laughed.

"Uh, er... I don't know what it is but I hear you have it."

"Idiot." Eva said as she pressed down on the pedal and...
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desdemona222b
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« Reply #1820 on: September 17, 2007, 01:27:08 PM »

simultaneously backhanded Bar t in the mouth.

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barton
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« Reply #1821 on: September 17, 2007, 01:45:53 PM »

[is that a hint to stop sexually obsessing over Winona?  In truth, I thought she was pretty much sucked dry after her stint in "Dracula"...]

The roadrunner quickly overtook them and, after dodging a 16 ton weight dropped from overhead and vaulting over a female roadrunner mannequin stuffed with TNT, passed the Dodge Dart on the left.  "Meep meep!" it cried.  Tears formed in the corners of its beady little eyes.  How could it express all its existential pain with a one-word vocabulary??



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desdemona222b
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« Reply #1822 on: September 17, 2007, 03:06:34 PM »

[is that a hint to stop sexually obsessing over Winona?  In truth, I thought she was pretty much sucked dry after her stint in "Dracula"...]

The roadrunner quickly overtook them and, after dodging a 16 ton weight dropped from overhead and vaulting over a female roadrunner mannequin stuffed with TNT, passed the Dodge Dart on the left.  "Meep meep!" it cried.  Tears formed in the corners of its beady little eyes.  How could it express all its existential pain with a one-word vocabulary??





"If only I were more like Camus," it thought with its little bird brain.  "Not just in the intellectual sense, but in the physical.  He could talk, and he had prehensil thumbs.  If only I could write a thing or two - but no, fate has twisted my appendages into mere bird feet."
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Eva
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« Reply #1823 on: September 17, 2007, 07:28:29 PM »

Inevitably, they ran out of gas.  The snail-slime heat cooled in the night desert air as darkness fell and the full moon gently rose.  No more meeps or glowering yellow coyote eyes.  Just the trio; Eva already snoring, Winona staring blankly into whatever it was she was always staring into and he with a silent song in his heart.  If only he could wrest the wench...
 Bart hesitated, for what he knew of heat and love, he well knew too of something else.  Although, achingly, lust he did for Winona, he knew his heart was counterfeit, self-made most fine.  The stuff of an inkwell.  Ever since his failed debut
« Last Edit: September 17, 2007, 07:30:27 PM by Eva » Logged
learn.
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« Reply #1824 on: September 17, 2007, 08:08:12 PM »

 

By David Gussin

It's true, it's true.
I created The Everything Bagel. 


OK, now that I'm the publisher of *****.com, Long Island's fastest growing website,  I have to give our readers   tidbits of information they can't get anywhere else.  Plus it’s the one story my daughter’s friends always found interesting. So I’ll go with it. 

 The Everything Bagel was created at a long ago out of business Queens, NY bagel shop, Charlie’s Bagels.  Whether you consider The Everything Bagel   created on Long Island depends on your definition of Long Island. Up until recently, for me at least, it was a no brainer. Long Island’s Long Island, Brooklyn and Queens are Brooklyn and Queens. Long Island is made up of Nassau and Suffolk counties. Brooklyn and Queens are part of NYC, the five boroughs. Not so fast, with my new publishing responsibilities, I find   though separated politically; Brooklyn and Queens are part of Long Island geographically. So all us folks who thought we moved to Long Island from Brooklyn and Queens, we were already living on Long Island and just didn't know it. 

Back to our story, it was the late 1970’s; I was working at a bagel store in Queens N.Y.  The owner of the store was Charlie, a big man with big hands from rolling all those bagels.  At that time, you had your standard bagels - plain, poppy, sesame, onion, garlic, salt, pumpernickel, the exotic bagel of the time was cinnamon-raisin.   Anyway, at the end of the day one of my jobs was sweeping out the oven. I'd sweep out the roasted seeds that had fallen off the bagels over the course of the day. Those were my favorites, the well done ones. One day, instead of sweeping them up and throwing them out like I had always done, I saved them. I asked Charlie to make some bagels with 'these' (the concoction of burnt leftover seeds) ... we'll call it, The Everything Bagel.  It was an immediate hit. Charlie even started charging a nickel more for it. Before you knew it, the Everything Bagel was everywhere.


My daughter’s are a smidgen mad at me. They say I should have patented it. I know, I know, if I had a penny for every Everything Bagel sold, I’d be rolling in the dough.  Yuck, yuck, yuck. It certainly would have made college tuition easier to pay for. Smiley





 

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Children are sponges.
Others actions are absorbed.
Is the water clean?
desdemona222b
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« Reply #1825 on: September 17, 2007, 11:15:04 PM »

Inevitably, they ran out of gas.  The snail-slime heat cooled in the night desert air as darkness fell and the full moon gently rose.  No more meeps or glowering yellow coyote eyes.  Just the trio; Eva already snoring, Winona staring blankly into whatever it was she was always staring into and he with a silent song in his heart.  If only he could wrest the wench...
 Bart hesitated, for what he knew of heat and love, he well knew too of something else.  Although, achingly, lust he did for Winona, he knew his heart was counterfeit, self-made most fine.  The stuff of an inkwell.  Ever since his failed debut
as ballet dancer...
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kitinkaboodle
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« Reply #1826 on: September 18, 2007, 12:23:47 PM »

if only he had ditched his winklepickers on that fateful day...a  pas de deux simply doesn't without the proper footwear.  Never one to fail expressing his individuality, that
« Last Edit: September 18, 2007, 12:39:11 PM by kitinkaboodle » Logged

Don't dance on a volcano...
barton
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« Reply #1827 on: September 18, 2007, 01:58:44 PM »

dancer on the volcano of his own libido, Barton Fink, ever in choreographic search of the common man within himself and always the risk that, finding that common man, he wouldn't much like him.  Dancing in jeans and scuffed brown oxfords, it was easy to trip on oneself....

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desdemona222b
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« Reply #1828 on: September 18, 2007, 03:39:26 PM »

but with little taps added onto the oxfords, he could do a mean shuffle-ball-change.

Meanwhile, Winona began to moan-ah...
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barton
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« Reply #1829 on: September 19, 2007, 10:48:17 AM »

like a gored bull runner in Pamplona...
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