Escape from Elba
Exiles of the New York Times
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Author Topic: Creative Writing  (Read 27227 times)
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Beppo
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« Reply #360 on: May 24, 2007, 04:57:22 PM »

man enough for any...
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kitinkaboodle
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« Reply #361 on: May 24, 2007, 04:59:40 PM »

iguana...
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Don't dance on a volcano...
Beppo
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« Reply #362 on: May 24, 2007, 05:10:00 PM »

"Busty," thought Dusty, "is lacking on this cruise," but he had yet to bump into...
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Eva
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« Reply #363 on: May 24, 2007, 05:14:28 PM »

all those other mega-babes, how he missed was a mystery, with all that...
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Beppo
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« Reply #364 on: May 24, 2007, 05:33:47 PM »

Holmes turned to Watson and grimaced: "There is nothing more endearing..."
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pugetopolis
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« Reply #365 on: May 24, 2007, 06:10:48 PM »

"...than an unsolved mystery. Unless it's you dear Watson -- in my arms."

Watson nodded knowingly, taking a puff from his pipe and saying...
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“Other people's obsessions
are more often funny than tragic.”
—Vincent Canby, The New York Times
whiskeypriest
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« Reply #366 on: May 24, 2007, 06:14:55 PM »

"Drop your pants, Sherlock.  I cannot wait until lunchtime."
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What does it matter?  All is grace.
whiskeypriest
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« Reply #367 on: May 24, 2007, 06:16:18 PM »

"Bollocks!"  Holmes replied.  "Don't toy with my affection.  You are merely saying this so that whiskeypriest can become a Hero Member!"
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What does it matter?  All is grace.
whiskeypriest
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« Reply #368 on: May 24, 2007, 06:16:36 PM »

"Yessssss!"
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Kam
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« Reply #369 on: May 24, 2007, 08:59:46 PM »

i cry foul
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You know when, like, you're little, your dad, you think he's Superman. Then when you grow up and realize he's just a regular guy who wears a cape.
-Dave Attell
pugetopolis
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« Reply #370 on: May 24, 2007, 10:48:20 PM »

…yes, I cried fowl too. Each night Rachel Ray walked into the room and said “Tonight, baby, we’re having chicken. How about Chicken à la Queen of Houdan?" The previous night we had Coq à Vin de Pomerol. And the night before that she fixed Fricassee à la Ancienne. It was getting so I was crying fowl every night. Down on my hands and knees… The more I cried fowl—the more chicken I got. Until finally one night, she said…
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“Other people's obsessions
are more often funny than tragic.”
—Vincent Canby, The New York Times
teddy174c
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« Reply #371 on: May 24, 2007, 11:24:49 PM »

…yes, I cried fowl too. Each night Rachel Ray walked into the room and said “Tonight, baby, we’re having chicken. How about Chicken à la Queen of Houdan?" The previous night we had Coq à Vin de Pomerol. And the night before that she fixed Fricassee à la Ancienne. It was getting so I was crying fowl every night. Down on my hands and knees… The more I cried fowl—the more chicken I got. Until finally one night, she said…

Ribs...!
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teddy174c
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« Reply #372 on: May 25, 2007, 12:08:57 AM »

Meanwhile, Gordon clutched his head again, and thought "...
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pugetopolis
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« Reply #373 on: May 25, 2007, 01:33:51 AM »

“Well, chicken is nice and ribs are tasty. But what I really want now is some nice pierogi, golabki and flaki—done the traditional way.”

Suddenly through the door came none other than…
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“Other people's obsessions
are more often funny than tragic.”
—Vincent Canby, The New York Times
pugetopolis
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« Reply #374 on: May 25, 2007, 02:52:02 AM »

…Holly Martins, the famous Western writer of cowboy novels—who was giving us all a lecture on “stream of consciousness". It was his usual short brilliant little Viennese lecture—the one he gave in Graham Greene’s The Third Man. You know, the one where he answers a question by asking another question instead. The ultimate world-shaking question—at least for both Joyce critics and postmodernist writers—being “Stream of what?” And so there I sat in the audience—excited like all the smart Viennese young intelligentsia for this lucky chance to hear Holly Martins utter that famous question and reveal the secret of the known universe. Everybody was simply shocked when Holly Martins said instead…
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“Other people's obsessions
are more often funny than tragic.”
—Vincent Canby, The New York Times
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