Anagram Fun: Michael Stone

Family friend, adopted 'son':

MICHAEL STONE = ONE ALCHEMIST

Happy Thanksgiving!

That first Thanksgiving in France was so fun!
Having all those people over,
Asking me questions about the Pilgrims and the
Native Americans and me blushing when I didn't
Know all the answers.
Sitting at the end of a long table eating blood pudding instead of turkey,
Getting nervous as my turn approached to say what
I was thankful with my Anglo-Saxon accent. Trying in
Vain to convince everyone pumpkin pie was delicious. Until they took a bite!
I put on some records and everyone danced and I could
Not stop laughing until we
Got up the next morning to do dishes.

<<<< another >>>>

(I wrote this dialogue in September. An imaginary conversation between the musician Mike Patton and a fan. They speak through a special box...not quite a phone...more telepathic in nature)

He had a watch box, ready for dialogue transmission. He sat in a confused and quiet hotel room in Berlin, turkey and swiss in one hand, his feet in a little plastic tub full of hot water and epsom salt...they were feeling more aged than ever, sore from bouncing and hopping on the stages of so many different countries. His watch box sat on the hotel side table next to binders of songs he was constantly working on...he sat on the edge of the low bed and began to speak:

*MIke Patton : here to rock it

girl: i saw a guru die today

MP: and ?

girl: don't judge, it was the look in his eyes. the non look, when they rolled back in his head

MP: it all happened, how quick?

girl: i don't know..probably seconds. his speech slurred, his microphone dropped to his lap

MP: he lifted his arms to the sky?

girl: he didn't Mike, his shoulders rose then sunk to the core of him. and he really only had taken one small breath that his body didn't recognize before he exhaled for the last time

MP: oh man..shit

girl: I don't even know what he said. what he was teaching to the crowd

MP: you think he knew it would happen?

girl: I definitely think so. he had woken early that day, and had his meal set aside, away from him....

MP: wasn't hungry

girl: not hungry for it, not that day

MP: so when was this? was ...

girl: he'd always thought of god as just a simple molecule of water. just fluid. that might be sitting atop a branch.

MP: what did he feel, then? about god as he passed away...

girl: i think he touched that dewy place. that dew drop. i had a friend. a friend who died three years back. hit by a semi...and she died instantly. well, she came to me in dreams a lot, there for a few months. i'd been going into lucidity often at that point in time. in my dreams. i was studying it day in and day out, going lucid in naps, when i should've been in class. I traveled alongside Marco Polo, and swam with families of whales, flew alongside Pegasus, wished a rich man into wealth of the heart, and a poor man food, to give him strength to heal the world. But my childhood friend, the one that died...in one of the dreams i found her. her name was Nora. i saw her drenched in light, she was smiling. in previous dreams she'd been as a skull, that jabbered nonsense. set within a room made of shadows. her skull and I carried on conversations off and on, for days. i knew it was all superficial stuff, just Earthly things she needed to get off her chest, but never had a chance to, since she'd died so suddenly.I think at one point she'd said to me, "they just didn't understand me. where were the friend's when i needed them?" And although the sight of the skull had quite an intense frightening affect on me, I wanted to be there for her, to listen openly and respond with supportive words. I kept my eyes facing hers, trying to picture eyeballs occupying the now gaping holes of bone. I kept in mind, that soon she'd be whole again. her spirit having found the place of nonresistance after toiling within the constriction of a human body. I honored her in those dark moments, knowing she'd pull through, and eventually have something to teach me. when that night came, where i dreamed of her as a smiling happy healthy girl again. she faced me and stood there silent, a gorgeous smile. I was lucid and very present with her. we were in our own special...world....moment....however you want to describe it. we were complete, and together. she just as alive as I, and I as alive as she. we were like the children we grew up as, together in our old neighborhood, except had the wisdom of all Ages within our spirits. I thought to myself, what I can do is ask her something, anything. she's on the "other side" now. so i said, "Nora? what is heaven like?" she stood firm yet relaxed, and said merrily..."they LOVE water." A vision of people splashing in luminescent pools of water, droplets flashing across of the screen of my mind, forming a joyful and confirming Oneness. I thanked her and then she vanished. I haven't found her since, in any dream. But I can see her now, in those pools playing and splashing her feet.

MP: the guru went straight to the dew drop. he went past the darkness\the jabbering skull that tries to find closure...he went straight to the water

girl: he had been playing and splashing around for years. and he was a teacher in this Earthly life, to others, on how to be happy and live life in joy and fearlessness...

MP: i got a nudge that he was really just trying to be a good man

girl: he did. he lived what he preached. and the transition from this life to the next was like a thread just extending a little bit further into the garment he'd worn for so long. i think he was just safely placed onto the next page.

MP: my feet are turning to prunes. hold on, gotta dump this water. and find my slippers

the girl waited until he returned

girl: how's the tour going?

MP: well, this is a good round so far. once i'm on stage, i turn the music to the crowd you know? so , i'm not that completely aware of my body. but lately, i'm feeling it afterward. maybe i'm just gettin too old for this. i'm taking care too just focus on my body more, now that i have to.

girl: well, glad you're still out there making music happen. it's making a lot of people feel pretty damn happy. and inspired

MP: talk to you next time then?? maybe....whenever you're back on the watch box???

girl: most def.

MP : take care. signing off . peace, love, all that


*mike patton is in no shape or form associated with or responsible for, in the reality of this world, the words i put into his mouth.

Answer to Joke

Why did the boy paddle to shore?

It was either that oar sink!



(wow...sorry bout that)

Gasping for "Love".

Tyranny
Hate
Anarchy
Need
Killing
Selfishness
Greed
Ignorance
Vice
Indifference
Neglect
.
.
.
Gasping for "Love".

Anagram Fun

I thought I would get in on the anagram fun…
My students love to do these! Undoubtedly, they are so creative they always come up with great ones! Too bad there isn't that much time for such fun activities -- thank you standards based testing!!! If anagrams aren't on the test we aren't supposed to teach them--urghhh!!! Sorry, I'm better now.

THE EYES = THEY SEE

DORMITORY = DIRTY ROOM

DEBIT CARD = BAD CREDIT

THANKSGIVING

To reach across the boundless night
Heaven infuses her starlight
Amid the desolate and despaired
Nothing else can be compared
Knowingly she spins her web
Supporting always her dear ones head
Giving them all they need
In visioning their every deed
Volition is ever their own
In finding the direction home
Never will be a stronger bond
God and her dear ones

Anagram Fun: A Library

A LIBRARY = LIBRA RAY

Writer-bite: Dialog Samplin'

Just came across this example of dialog to go
with our current theme:

http://www.cosmiclighthouse.com/book/export/html/1665

I'm sorry: I hate holidays...

Thanksgiving
Here we go.
Another holiday when grandma pulls me aside and says
No, take that ring off and
Keep it in your pocket!
Sure
Grandma
If you’re ashamed of me.
Violence brewing deep as
I fight the hurt of no acceptance.
No one realizes I love her and she loves me.
Guess this is one of those few times a year I have 6 grand in my wallet.


Three years and
Here we are.
Another holiday with
No friends, they all went home. Family
Kept from us because of my decision to move.
So much for a big dinner. Looks like we will
Go to McDonalds before they close
Instead of eating grandpa’s turkey and mom’s pumpkin pie.
Voluntarily
I came here
Not knowing
God wanted us to be alone.


There she went, as fast as she came.
Hard for her to stay in one place too long.
Always she suffers
Never explaining why as she
Keeps the
Secrets
Given her
In
Violence, given her
In
Narcissistic
Gore as he gobbled and gobbled her innocence away.


Thinking of what keeps me sane
Her
And I keep her sane
Not a scrap of sanity in either of us
Knowing this
She might not think the same
Going by her own
Isolation that she is
Very protective of.
I’m that way too.
Not a scrap of us
Grows without the other.

The Call

“Hello.”
“Hey. What are you doing?”
“Playing poker. I thought you were running?”
“I am.”
“What do you want?”
“I was running by the canal and there's otters in it.”
“That’s weird. They shouldn’t be there.”
“I didn’t think so. What should I do?”
“Call the police.”
“And say what?”
“That there’s otters in the canal.”
“I don’t know if they’re otters.”
“You just said they were.”
“Maybe they’re sea lions.”
“What do they look like?”
“They’re the size of the dog and have tails like his.”
“What color are they.”
“Sort of black.”
“And?”
“They have lots of whiskers.”
“Sounds like baby seals to me. How many are there?”
“Four.”
“Call the police.”
“I don’t know the number.”
“Call 911 and tell them it isn’t an emergency. They’ll transfer you.”
“But I don’t know what they are.”
“Tell them there’s some sort of sea creature in the canal that doesn’t belong there.”
“Will you come?”
“Fine. I’m leaving.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“I’m on my way.”
“They got out and went in the gutter things.”
“The canal doesn’t have gutters.”
“Maybe it isn’t the canal.”
“Well that’s where I’m going. Where should I go?”
“Over by Allen Wit Park.”
“There isn’t a canal over there. It’s just a creek.”
“Well that’s where I am. Are you still coming?”
“I’m turning around.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“They just went back in the water.”
“Where?”
“Over there. You’ll see their heads in a minute.”
“Where?”
“Over there! Look! They’re getting out!”
“Um…those aren’t sea animals.”
“What are they?”
“Well they aren’t black. Don’t have tails like the dog.”
“What are they?”
“Are you sure those are what you were describing?”
“Yes! What are they!”
“Beavers.”
“Oh…”
“Do you want a ride home?”
“No. I’m going to finish my run.”
“Let me know if you see a whale in a puddle.”

Some riddles for you to contemplate...

1) All about, but cannot be seen,

-- Can be captured, cannot be held,

-- No throat, but can be heard.

-- What is it?

________________________________________

2) In a marble hall white as milk

-- Lined with skin as soft as silk

-- Within a fountain crystal-clear

-- A golden apple doth appear.

-- No doors there are to this stronghold,

-- Yet thieves break in to steal its gold.

-- What is it?

________________________________________

3) Pronounced as one letter,

-- And written with three,

-- Two letters there are,

-- And two only in me.

-- I'm double, I'm single,

-- I'm black, blue, and gray,

-- I'm read from both ends,

-- And the same either way.

-- What am I?

________________________________________

4) You throw away the outside and cook the inside

-- Then you eat the outside & throw away the inside

-- What did you eat?

________________________________________

5) I fly, yet I have no wings.

-- I cry, yet I have no eyes.

-- Darkness follows me; lower light I never see.

-- What am I?

________________________________________

6) What is red and smells like blue paint?

-- As you can see, I decided to include a number of riddles within one post. Feel free to answer as many or as few as you would like, just include the riddle number by your answers. Thanks and have fun! -- Luke

RdJ

What is the Little Ren Hen's favorite way to get around town?

ha ha ha ha - JOKE - ha ha ha ha

Why did the boy paddle to shore?

Mable: "He's not marryin' nobody"
Abbey and Rose: "No One."
Garnetha: "Anybody"
Reese: "Any One"
Rose: "He's not marrying?"
Garnetha: "He ought to marry Rae Ann."
Rose: "Says who?"
Abbey: "He did."
Reese: "He most certainly did."
Mable: "But he ain't."
Garnetha: "Not"
Reese: "Is!"
Abbey: "He is?"
Mable: "No!"
Garnetha: "Well he should!"
Rose: "Stop it all of you!"

^^**^^** giving thanks **^^**^^

Tattered
Hair thinning
And eyes dry
Never enough
Kept at a distance
Silent to the world
Going on around her...
Invite a friend inside
Voices of laughing wonder
Inner peace meets outer
New!
Great!

A excerpt from my new one-act, REVEILLE!

This is from a works-in-progress one-act. Always nice to get feedback from folks.

(August. 1862. Evening. Somewhere in the Shenandoah Valley of Northern Virginia. The Civil War is in its second year. AMANDA, 25, is sitting at a long table in the living room of a modest farm home - writing. CATHERIN is eight years older and plays a utilitarian role, busying herself with the day-to-day routines associated with the house and property. They live alone on the property. AMANDA has just finished an essay on "her typical day" in the hopes that Godey's Ladies Book will consider publishing it. CATHERIN is slicing watermelon.)

AMANDA
I say Godey’s is not a luxury but a necessity. With its helpful hints and its patterns and needlework and instructions in housekeeping – why we save twice the price we pay for it in less than a few months.

CATHERIN
Prissy...piece...of trash.

AMANDA
Then why don’t you submit your own story?

(Once she has finished slicing the watermelon, CATHERIN begins ironing.)

CATHERIN
The world is an unhappy place, Amanda. My demeanor would have to be on a higher plain for me to even consider the task of sitting down to write – Godey’s or otherwise.

AMANDA
Well if the world were in a better place, what would you write about then?
(Silence.)
Oh, come on. Don’t be such a sour puss. Tell me.

CATHERIN
I don’t know.
(Pause. Reflecting.)
I suppose I’d write about living here in the valley – before the war...when even the faintest breeze blows in the smell of sassafras blossoms from a mile away and the mockingbirds swoop down on anyone who gets close to their nest – which they do without reservation because everyone knows you’re never to kill a mockingbird and the mockingbirds know it, too.
(She stops ironing.)
I’d write about how that dog of yours slouches around so much so you’d think she were dead to the world –

AMANDA
Don’t talk unkindly about Molly. She’s never ever even hurt a flea.

CATHERIN
- except for when she nips at the honey bees flying about her head.
(Beat)
Or I’d write about our farm...how you’re scared of feeding the chickens and how one day –

AMANDA
I am not!

CATHERIN
You are too – and quit interrupting me. And how one day you proposed we eat the Rhode Island Red and Plymouth Rock chickens as they most certainly were Yankee-bred and would do irreparable harm to a Southerner’s palate. I’d tell of midnight walks along 4¼ Mile Road, lit up by the slightest sliver of a moon – like a postcard...where you can hear the rippling and splashing of Little Mountain Run in the dark as she snakes down and around through the Shenandoah Valley, and the horned owl joins the bullfrog and the crickets in a symphony that only God could compose. Or the lonesome whistle of the Blue Ridge Railway...clickety-clackety – reminding me there’s a world to explore beyond this valley. I’d write how exhausted I am after drinking it all in and how I’m able to get a full night’s sleep and wake up refreshed, ready to experience it all over again.
(Beat)
Not like now...where the world’s filled with nothing but the suffering because of some men’s war. Not like now when I worry that soldiers might steal off with the horses in the middle of the night or that I might awaken to a rifle barrel stuck in my gut – or worse.
(Beat)
Oh I smell sassafras occasionally. And I’m not saying the crickets have stopped chirping all together. But it’s –
(Beat)
– everything I cherish about this place has been smothered by war. The trains bring men into town, filling our streets with blue troops and gray troops marching off to fight and kill one another. The air is filled with smoke and fire. The Yankees’ blockade stopped Little Mountain Run from rippling and splashing. How many people have we known moved away or killed? This simple life of ours which I derived so much joy is no more.
(Beat)
I took pleasure in the rain – a steady, long, slow rain. It washed the earth clean and made everything smell reborn...new – like fresh laundry brought in outta the sun and the wind. The only rain that falls now brings with it the stench of death and the streets run with the blood of young men who are lost forever. And I’m afraid that everything will change and I’ll forget what it was like.
(Sheepishly.)
I’m rambling on.
(Beat. She goes back to ironing.)
That’s what I’d write about. The way things used to be. Our reality is the war. What joy would there be in writing about that?

AMANDA
Well I’m fairly certain that’s not the slant Godey’s is aspiring it’s readers to write about – all that blood and guts and such. I, for one, choose to concentrate on the positive aspects of the day. War or no war.

CATHERIN
Why don’t you write about that boy you’re always exchanging letters with? What’s his name?

AMANDA
You mean Dowd? He’s in love with me – did I tell you that? His father bought and sold horses in the next county over before the war. I believe he sold most of them to the army. He might be a zillionaire by now.
(She goes back to writing. Beat.)
Sounds like a storybook – all that fluff you were talking about. You came up with all that on your own?

CATHERIN
I’ve lived it all my life. So have you...or did you already forget?

AMANDA
I didn’t forget.
(Beat)
“Sassafras blossoms”. I like that. May I use it in my narration? For Godey’s?

CATHERIN
If you can get over the fluff.

True Happiness

True
Happiness
Attained
Now
Knowing
Showing
Gratitude
In all
Varied
Instances . . .
Never-ending
Gift
- - - - December 2007
Note: I wrote this last year in response to a Satsang Circle suggestion from BB. The touching poems to come out of that meeting inspired me to put forth the challenge to DP members . . .

forevermore, thank you

Though I have never really thought about it in the past
Here I sit pondering these things that have happened in my life
Amidst the tragedies and challenges that have happened and are yet to come
No one in my life has stood as strong as you have by my side
Knowing you and sharing life's most precious gifts and great rewards
Seeing our world change mostly for the better and sometimes for the worse
Gives me a sense of wonder and weakens my innate fear of the unknown
Imagination has not trumped reality and happiness has overwhelmed doubt
Visions of the future can not help but predicate the inevitable changes
I can only pray that these moments will be instilled in my memory forevermore
Nevertheless, I hope to never take these things for granted & say thank you for
Giving me these priceless treasures that I could not have imagined years ago

"To V.W."

To V.W.

This person –
Her demeanor entrances me
Anxiously I ponder her being
Not having met
Kept from me
She radiates beauty
Gushes with passion
In her I see myself –
Vibrant, vivacious, vexing
Inherent in complexities
Numb to anything but “the now”
Gregariously grateful. Me.

- special thanks to Richard Le Breton

Thanksgiving

Thinking that I
Have become
Addicted to the belief that
No one can be a white
Knight in these dark days.
Seeking redemption from the
Grief of past disappointments.
Identifying with
Various disbelief's.
I
Need to
Give in to love.

Mini-Topic: Riddle du Jour

Make up and post one or more riddles. DP members will guess the answer in the 'comments' section. Try and 'guess right' or make up a wacky answer! Due December 15!

Mini-Topic: Thanksgiving Crostic

Write a 'gratitude' poem using as a first letter of each line the letters of the word 'Thanksgiving', reading down. Due Wednesday November 26!

Let's talk about dreams

“Do you want to hear about the dream I had last night?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I was at an amusement park, and the roller coasters were really scary. There was this one that was really tall, and you got on it at the top of the tallest hill.”
“Neat.”
“Yeah. It was weird because in the dream I was looking at myself in line from a distance, and I could hardly see myself.”
“That is weird.”
“I know. All of a sudden I saw myself falling from the stairway, still from a distance. I looked like an ant. I don't know what caused me to fall, but before I saw myself hit the ground, I woke up.”
“Scary!”
“I know. Have you ever had an amusement park dream?”
“I don't think so.”
“I wonder what it means.”
“I don't know.”
“What do you think?”
“Could you please stop talking to me? I’m trying to read.”
“Oh......okay.......................................................I’ve had other amusement park dreams, you know.”
“Good.”
“Can I tell you about another one?”
“Whatever.”
“I'm always at the same park, and I always know where to go when I'm there; but when I am awake, I can't really picture what it looks like and I can't navigate it in my mind like I could, say...Cedar Point. You know what I mean?”
“I think so...”
“Well, the park if right off this interstate that has lots of ramps and exits and there is this one little shop right down the street that we always go to before we get to the park. It feels so familiar to me. There is never anyone there and it seems so out of place, but we always go there. It is dark, has wooden floors, walls, and ceiling and the outside has a boardwalk of some sort. We always look at the beach towels...”
“What does this have to do with the amusement park?”
“Sorry...I got sidetracked.”
“Could you get to the point? I'd like to get back to my book.”
“Fine. In this dream I was alone and looking for the group of people I was with when I saw that my favorite ride had no line! I ran over to get on and I was the only person on the whole train. It was a very strange feeling and I did not enjoy the ride as much by myself. I was worried that the ride would malfunction or something, but everything turned out fine and I kept riding it over and over. I couldn't resist getting on that ride since it had no line.”
“Interesting.”
“Really??”
“Not really. Can I get back to my book now?”
“Yeah, but talking about these dreams made remember so many others that I have had at this amusement park.”
“Well, why don't you go write them down so you don't forget them?”
“That's a good idea...”

Scrabble Wars

"36 points? You're kidding! Mom, you sure you counted right?"
"I'm sure."
"Here...have somemore wine."
"My glass is full, and it's your turn......"
"OK, OK. I got nothin' but garbage to work with here."
"Kelly! Fuckit is not a word!"
"Yeah it is."
"No it's not. Here's the dictionary.....show me....."
"Fine! Give me a minute."
"Take your time."
"You dating anybody lately?"
"Maybe."
"Why? Men are all such assholes, and you're too old for sex anyway. So, why bother?"
"I'm not too old for....."
"Gross......Ma!"
"Well, you brought it up."
"I'm just gonna trade in my tiles...you go."
"T R A P......seven points. How are you and Tim doing?"
"He is such a pain in my ass!"
"You two still fighting a lot?"
"Kinda. He's moving in in March."
"What????"
"Yeah, well, gotta see if we can live together first."
"But you said......."
"Is forplay OK?"
"What????"
"F O R P L A Y.....Ma. The word forplay."
"That's not how you spell it!"
"Yeah well, it uses up all seven of my tiles. Gives me bonus points."
"Where'd you put the wine bottle?"

Official New Assignment

OK...I guess I have the heads up to post the new assignment. A piece based on pure dialog as suggested in the previous post. Lets make the deadline Christmas. I'm gonna need all the time I can get to put something on paper this time.

New assignment suggestion

I wondered what it would be like to do a complete "Dialog only" piece. Could be anything: a couple having dinner together, a phone call from a college kid to home, two friends at a bar, an interview, etc etc. From serious to funny to. But pure dialog.
Not sure I can do this myself but what the heck.
Flutterby

Homeless Beavers / Indian Blue Water / Clarence Thomas Speaks

Just a few more days and it's on to a new topic. Thought I'd give'r one lost college try. If you have any more "stories" to add, now's the time.

Madison, Wisconsin - Homeless beavers to get room and board in governor’s mansion

A family of homeless Vietnamese Hmongs in Steven’s Point took up residence in what was thought to be an abandoned beaver hut. Upon the beaver’s return to their home, Wisconsin Governor Jim Doyle requested the DNR place the beaver family in the Joseph McCarthy guest room of the governor’s mansion until the Hmong family can build their own hut.

New Delhi, India – Purple water in India makes crowd green with envy.

(Crowd noise.) "AHHH! Oh -look at the pretty colors! AHHH!" In their efforts to quell an unruly mob in New Delhi, the Indian Police (IP) turned water cannons on a crowd of protesters using purple-colored water instead of regular water, while synchronizing their water blasting to Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze”. Previous testing in prison holding cells had shown that the use of colored water makes prisoners more docile, thus, easier to subdue.

Washington, DC - Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas still can’t speak

Justice Clarence Thomas, who has failed to utter a single word from the bench since February 22, 2006, revealed he has a rare disease whereby nodes have formed on his vocal chords and larynx, rendering him unable to speak. When asked why he didn’t make this information public two years ago, Justice Thomas wrote on a legal pad, I COULDN’T TALK AND NO ONE ASKED ME. He was then asked why he didn’t utilize paper and pen earlier. Justice Thomas wrote, I DIDN’T THINK OF THAT.

Honk if you love dit

okay okay! I'm a nerd!

Gene Mix Up

Genetic engineers working at a high security lab in Geneva today admitted a
mix up of DNA between two donor cultures.
Dr. Herman Xerbothe, noted Nobel prize winner in 1996, admitted that
two distinctly separate vials of DNA from deceased donor, became inexplicably merged under bizarre circumstances.

"I didn't recognize it at first, but the donors samples were from the same Nationality.
Diametrically opposed philosophies at their base level, left alone, it presented a strange
attraction. The vials were in cryogenic suspension in separate buildings, but one one fateful
day, each vial was pulled and a small sample was taken to be rendered at just above the
freezing point of water."

Neither team of researchers knew of the others sampling proceedure.
The lab booths were some 300 meters apart from one another.

Xerbothe continues., "There was some decorum for the sample study on this date
pertaining to certain possible spectral characteristics of the DNA. Light analysis is becoming
more stylish at the cellular level as of late. Records illustrate that both samples were pulsed
by wide spectrum light at around noon of that day."

The question of how both samples appeared on the same lunch cart a half an hour later is
left unanswerable by both lab chiefs and food service.

"It's like the Manhattan Project losing a pound of Plutonium in a salad bar somewhere in
Los Angeles.", Commented Dept. of Death specialist for the NSA, Steven Bag.

Regardless, the event occurred and the vials, one lettered (E), the other (H), didn't simply
continue forward in isolated proximity.

Xerbothe., "At some point the vials were mistaken for salad dressings and added to the
salad of Kurt Russell, actor, who was visiting his daughter, an employee of this
laboratory. It went unoticed for weeks. The lab techs simply reaquired more samples
and went forward with a new set of analysis."

It wasn't until Kurt began experiencing incredible night visions of appocolyptic magnitude,
that an effort was made to trace the source of the problem.

"Look, we simply brought him in here and sat him down. It was very awful, the most awful
day I can remember. But, you try to explain that you have been made host to the raw
genetic matter of Albert Einstein and Adolf Hitler. Kurt just had a complete shit-fit.
So aloof from the Semitic and Anti-Semitic issues from the past, he was simply floored."

"God-damn, I've always prided myself on my detachment of politics and philosophy,
how in creation did I get cooked up together with these two extreme polarities?',"
Kurt explained.

His daughter, who has since resigned in disgust, claims that mankind has become the
penultimate tool.

Kurt, who has moved forward, reflects that this has become a useful asset to his
eccelectic acting career.

The Geneva Genetics Lab has been as of late, partying hot spots for
the likes of David Hasselhoff and Paris Hilton.

This is the BBC, London.

BOTOX patients on the decline

Medical doctors reported yesterday an over-all average drop in Botox treatments world wide.
"This is surprising," says plastic surgeon/dermatologist Micky Poresy, "because just a few years ago I had a waiting list of women craving the live strains of the botulism bacteria injected directly into their faces to combat wrinkles. Its been quite a shocker for me to find my waiting room half-empty."
"You should see all the Botulism vials I have in backstock!" said another noted New York dermatologist Hinkle Rider
Many doctors think the bad economy is the main factor at play, but further research is being done on why women's interest is waning.

Peter's Pickled Peppers

Madame Pfeiffer pickled a peck of pickled peppers with her son Peter last week.
"I taught Peter how to pickle a peck of peppers over his fall break. It was something we could do together."
She went on to explain that when Peter got home from school the following week, he wanted help writing a 'what I did over fall break' essay for his English composition class. She suggested he write it on his pickling peppers experience.
"But I didn't know his teacher would call the house charging my son with forgery," she said.
Mrs. Popsdale, 7th grade English composition teacher wanted that Peter bring in a peck of his pickled peppers as proof.
"She saw the jar of pickled peppers," said Peter,"and almost choked. It was like she totally forgot that people actually pickle peppers anymore."
He said she proceeded to open the jar to try the peppers, licking her fingers, and announcing to the class that 'Peter's pickled peppers were pickled to perfection.'
He got an A.

This Ones for You Sue

Just have to share my new Ditalini Press catch phrase. I know how Susan loves words.

" The Ditalini Press....No Rules.....Just Write!"

OK gag me

Hai-Poo Movement Gains Turf

A rare glimpse into the inner workings of Ditalini Press was observed at an afternoon gala held at the Historic Peabody House. The gathering did double-duty as the newly published first-in-a-series Hai-Poo: Hidden Gems was celebrated and the monthly workshop Hai-Poo: Let’s Get Going was inaugurated. The library conference space was figuratively likened unto a water closet, as modern-day 'Hai-Poo Movement' founder K.Grace addressed the curiosity seekers. "Hai-poo can be no less described as a phenomenon. Take the two most fascinating subjects: poetry and poop, and watch as they elevate one another to new heights.”

Hai-Poo has recently re-emerged as a viable art form. The first Hai-Poo is feared forever lost, but other fragments have been found in diverse pockets of heretofore unexplored terrain.

K.Grace is the world’s undisputed H’Poo Master, humbly proferring a wealth of well-rounded knowledge. "Hai-Poo is a specialized form of poetry that stems from unknown origins. Haiku, we know, can be dated back ten centuries. And poop . . . well, do we need a time line? It's as ancient as the sun. Hai-Poo may seem new, but it's timeless: a celebration of life, words and wisdom." She put forth a Hai-Poo sample -

don't shake his left hand
do you not see it is brown?
he had no paper

As they spiraled with initial tentative phrasing, Number 2 pencils in hand and Sani-Wipes at the ready, K.Grace exhorted her new crop of cohorts, “When properly marinated, the melding of poop and haiku is seamless . . . full of life . . . and fun for all ages!"

Aunt Sue, warming to her role as co-facilitator, spoke next. “I’d like to offer just one specimen of a dozen Hai-Poo I have under my belt to date. Whether or not I’ll produce another is anyone’s guess.”

ice cream indulgence
buff basinscape rendezvous
freshly pebbled path

“Where do you get your inspiration?” Henry 'Hank' Jamison called out.

Aunt Sue responded, “For me, the word Hai-Poo itself inspires, invites, even insists on jargonistic double-speak. After incorporating the 5-7-5 challenge, I sit back and let nature take its course.”

K.Grace nodded knowingly. “I believe there is a Hai-Poo Muse who moves in and out of the trees of the mind, usually just out of reach. But every now and then she comes near and sings a beautiful melody."

Sally Wharton looked strained. “I wonder how often I’ll get the urge to write Hai-Poo. . . if ever?”

“When it comes to this style of poetry, K.Grace is the only one I know who has achieved any sort of regularity. She has more entries in Hai-Poo: Hidden Gems than any of us, but we are all contributors,” Aunt Sue beamed, looking proudly to the other members of Ditalini Press. Then picking up poncho and pocketbook, she left abruptly, stating simply, “I gotta go.”

“A ‘pressing matter’, no doubt,” cracked flush-faced attendee Ron Smolders. “Hey, that just popped – I mean ‘plopped’ - into my head! Am I getting the hang of this or what!”

At day’s end, K.Grace reminded everyone, "Hai-Poo can be quite enigmatic. At times it flows forth as easy as a river . . . but some days it can be puzzling to write.” The idea is to gently keep pushing until achieving the desired outcome.

One participant summed up the workshop experience neatly, “It’s been like a breath of fresh air!”

Note: All love and thanks to K.Grace for collaboration on this bit of silliness!

Nintendo Fans Skeptical of "New Look" Mario

Washington (DP) -- With anticipation rising for the next generation Wii console, Nintendo fans got an unexpected first glimpse of what is in store for the beloved Mario character. In a leaked photo that has generated much interest among internet gaming sites, fans can see a Mario that has been given more detail than ever before.

With this new iteration of Mario, he sports the same trademark red hat with an "M" on it, brown hair, black moustache, and an abnormally large and bulbous nose. Mario's basic appearance has changed little over the years. What has changed is the attention to detail, and the designers at Nintendo making Mario look more like a human and less like a cartoon.

The reaction has not been very positive among the Nintendo faithful. "To be honest, it kind of creeps me out. When I first saw it, I peed a little" said longtime Nintendo fan boy Ryan Simpson of Bellevue, Washington. Sarah Shepherd, a long time Mario fan from Renton, Washington stated, “I have played Mario games since the first Super Mario Bros. for the NES and after seeing this picture I am afraid this will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life.”

The Mario character was created by legendary game designer Shigeru Miyamoto. As Nintendo's long time mascot, Mario has appeared in more than 200 video games since his inception. In 1981, Mario first appeared in the arcade game Donkey Kong as a carpenter named "Jumpman" according to Nintendo of America. In Japan, he was known as "Mr. Video Game". Mario is depicted as a short, pudgy, Italian plumber who lives in the Mushroom Kingdom, where he is regarded as a hero; he is best known for constantly trying to rescue Princess Peach from the evil clutches of King Bowser.

Mario has gone through many transformations over the years, most notably when he first entered into 3D gaming in Super Mario 64. The reaction at that time was well received by the public and Super Mario 64 is still hailed by many critics to be one of the greatest video game experiences of all time. Time will tell whether this latest Mario installment will grab the hearts and minds of the gaming community.

The still to be named next generation Wii style system will include many upgrades; including enhanced graphics presented in HD for the first time, and processing speeds surpassing those of the Playstation 3. "We wanted to take advantage of the power of the new system and give Mario a more realistic look." said Shigeru Miyamoto, creator of Mario. Asked if there was anything he would change about his new Mario, Miyamoto said, “No, but I did consider giving him some more ear hair. Miyamoto added, "If you think this is bad, just wait until you see what we did with Luigi."

Masochistic Rabbits Deem Animal-Friendly Companies "No Fair."

Perl Wimble, chief executive of the LabPox network of chemical corporations in the United States, has recently organized meetings with laboratory department managers to discuss how to handle an unusual flux in willing varmint participation. "We can only test so many animals at a time. We can't increase the number of holding cells and straps unless we hired on more testers, which requires a steady supply of new test market ingredients that we just don't have. The 'Green' movement has put our labs in a static state. We're turning hares away and they're mutilating themselves in protest." During Wimble's visit last week to the Memphis area labs he discovered rabbit skins strewn across the walkway where his employee's enter and leave the building. One witness claimed "[she] literally watched as the crazed rodents skinned each other with sharp rocks, and situated their skins in front of the lab entrance..." Another witness, Shiela McNickels who works two buildings down remembered distinctly "an eerily quiet morning and a hint of blood in the air."
Wimble has plans to develop a monitoring system that will help track, capture, and tranquilize these demented cottontails. "We're also meeting soon with a new pharmaceutical/makeup conglomerate. This would be a lucrative opportunity for us which would require massive animal testing to meet FDA requirements. It'll be great having these furry little punks at our disposal...and knowing they're getting a twisted pleasure out of it makes the work we do all that much more worthwhile."

Naked Mother Theresa Chip / Game Feast Fridays @ PETA / Bill Maher NOT Bill Maher?

Leeds, England – Restaurateur finds naked Mother Theresa chip

A Leeds restaurant owner discovered a chip in his kitchen which resembled a nude Mother Theresa, with one twist…the chip has a penis. When news leaked to The Vatican that the chip was placed on Ebay for sale, the Holy See issued a cease and desist order, demanding the chip be removed from the Internet under threat of excommunication. A Vatican spokesperson stated the entire incident could have been avoided had the Mother Theresa chip been anatomically correct. When asked for his thoughts on the matter, the Pope, who was out walking in the woods, said "poop".

Los Angeles, CA – Bill Maher admits he’s not Bill Maher

Talk show host and political pundit Bill Maher issued a statement Thursday that his real name is not Bill Maher, but Lane Maher, Bill Maher’s twin brother. Lane, a former strip club DJ and one-time psychiatric patient at the McLean Hospital in Belmont, Massachusetts, said he’s been masquerading as his brother Bill since the debut of Politically Incorrect on Comedy Central in 1993. Lane went on to say that his brother – the real Bill Maher – is a member of the Roman Catholic missionary organization, White Fathers, which is based in Africa, and has taken a strict vow of silence for the last 10 years. When tracked down for his reaction to his brother Lane’s revelation, Bill replied, “It’s true. I’ve been sil…sonofabitch!”

Norfolk, Virginia – PETA holds “Casual Fridays” featuring wild game feast buffet

Ingrid Newkirk, international president of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) stated the alarmingly decreasing numbers of vegan staff members has prompted her to institute a “casual Fridays” at PETA headquarters, whereby a catered wild game feast buffet featuring venison, rabbit and wild pheasant is provided at lunch to give staffers a break from eating vegetables, tofu and imitation brats and hamburgers. One staff member quipped, “You know I never thought I’d say this but even the rabbit tastes like chicken.”

- Special thanks to Richard Le Breton

Beard Competitor Found Cheating

Arthur Stubble was found cheating during a local "No-shave-November" contest in which the contestants attempt to outgrow each other's beards.  

Stubble's wife, who dislikes the competition, found him applying a hair-growing serum to his face.  "I just couldn't stand it anymore," she said.  "Just growing a beard was bad enough, but cheating?  That was just too barbaric."  

The serum was created by research scientist Austin Chin, who claims that his serum was only meant to enable men to grow beards who weren't able to before.  "I had no idea that it could be used to cheat somehow," he said.  

Stubble was disqualified, but the competition was hairy.  Hans Whiskers was declared the winner.  "I won by the breadth of a hair," he said.  "It was a really close shave." Photographs of the winners can be found online here.

Editor's Note: All characters in this article are fictitious, as is the competition in "No-Shave-November."  The World Beard and Moustache Competition and "No-Shave-November" itself are real.

New Years Polenta Assault

The traditional New Years day Polenta dinner at the Calzone family turned into a meatball massacre, when a careless guest tried to spear a meatball from the center of the Polenta board.
Not having been educated in the proper rules of Polenta board etiquette, Ms Smith, of Parma, unwittingly committed the ultimate faus pas. After consuming the meatball in front of her, she casually reached for another which rested approximately one foot toward the center of the board. Any Italian knows that one must eat their way to the next meatball, never reaching across the Polenta for one.


From out of nowhere Papa Calzone sprang at her with a fork, in an attempt, to teach her the finer points of Italian tradition. Narrowly missing her hand, he harpooned the meatball to the Polenta board. Chaos ensued. Needless to say, the hapless guest, headed for the nearest exit.


When asked why she did not call 911 regarding the assault, she simply said, "I've seen all the Godfather movies and have no desire to wake up one morning with a bloody meatball under my sheets!"

Sad Play Causes Big Stink Among Elderly

Diapers were flying last Tuesday evening during Detroit's 5th annual "Play In The Dark", put on by Whimsey Bros. playhouse. The debut show, "Two Silk Scarves and a Woolen Mitten" by proctologist turned playwright Morgan Tweedling opened to a full house, but all quickly turned to mayhem as the elderly demographic in the audience "commenced to rip bits of diaper from their bundled rears and sop up their wet faces," Tweedling reported.
As 74 year old Dorothia Wunderlich put it, "The tears were streaming. 'Two Silk Scarves' was reminiscent of my childhood days. We found no tissues, so we reached down at our asses."
Tweedling's concerns went beyond a mismanaged play. "It extends deep. I guess my heart is still in proctology because my frustration lies in the thought of raw torn diaper rubbing against the thin and mottled skin of those aged rectums. Not to mention the diaper-to-face "shit-eye" some of them must have contracted. But that's for an optometrist."
Detroit clean-up crews worked overnight and well into Wednesday, mopping up the proverbial shitstorm.

Pohling Pulls Plug on Online Poll

“I just wanted it to stop! It was fun for years and years, then one day I realized I had an endless loop of the grainy video tape playing in my head over and over and over,” Mitchell Pohling reflected. “I remembered that The Neverending Story was written by Michael Ende, so I wondered, what if he changed the last letter of his last name from ‘e’ to ‘s’? You know, set up a vibrational pattern allowing at least the possibility of a conclusion. The Neverending Story Ends. So, yeah, I set up the online poll, you know, to see how the public might feel about it. The results were surprising. I never meant to deceive anyone, though. When I found out that Ende died way back in 1995, I pulled the plug on the poll right away. It’s just too late. A posthumous name-change is never gonna happen.”

Pohling, ever-ready to share his opinion, is a certified survey addict. Hoping for telemarketers, he keeps the phone line clear during the dinner hour, seeks out clipboard-totin' aggressive types at the mall, and dreams of someday joining the Gallup guard. An election year is pure heaven.

“Oh yeah, and another thing,” Pohling added. “Seems Michael Ende had some interesting ideas of looking at the world, money-wise, that is. How about The Neverending Prosperity? Would that be a story to see again and again? Vote 'Yes' or 'No' on my new online poll . . ."

Jello 1-2-3 Causes Riot

The Higgledy-Piggledy Market of Macon, GA saw a near riot last week when the last known case of Jello 1-2-3 was spotted on a stocker’s pallet in Aisle Eight. Jostling for position, Wanda Stephens called out, “I’ll buy the whole case, y'all – I saw it first!” She was soon outmaneuvered ‘quicker than a 1-2-3’ by Kimmy Potter who waxed nostalgic as she elbowed Wanda aside, “My Mom always made this for me – it was my favorite!” Within minutes security personnel responded, dispersing the clamorous crowd.

Made popular in the ‘70s and edged off grocery shelves in '96, Jello 1-2-3 was a fun dessert snack that separated into three layers upon setting, the topmost layer pure fluff. This reporter remembers her sister surviving on the stuff during a bout with mono in ‘72. A Boomer-groundswell of support for this triple-treat may see a ‘new and improved’ version before year’s end.

Manager Floyd Beckheiser, seen hugging the case of 24 on the way to the safe, bragged, “This is pure gold! We’ll be posting this baby on Ebay!” Early estimates suggest the bidding will far exceed the symbolic opening price of $1.23.

Writer Bite: Julie Andrews Collection

At the present time The Julie Andrews Collection is mainly interested in middle grade chapter books and young adult novels. Manuscript submission info is found at . . .

http://www.harperchildrens.com/julieandrews/catalog/moreinfo.asp

Writer Bite: Work for Smithmag!

Editorial Internship available at Smithmag - home of the famous six-word memoirs!

http://www.smithmag.net/editorial-internship/

Writer Bite : Get out your forks!

Hello again...look to the previous post below for the new assignment due Friday November 14th.

I'm going to start something called "writer bites" that we can all take part in. The concept is that of sharing writing or writer related tips, techniques, contests, etc. For instance, if I came across a poetry contest and thought you might want to participate then I would title it Writer Bite: Christmas Poetry Contest...just so everyone would know what it pertained to. Does this sound ok with you all? If you have a better idea, then pa leez suggest it! We can add a new writer bite at any time, and as often as we'd like. They can also be book reviews! Or author highlights...or secrets in the publishing world. Whatever you find interesting, or what you think might be essential info for us all to know.

Here is the first writer bite for DP:

The NanoWrimo Competition started November 1st, but you can still participate if you want to! This is a free 'competition' for the month of November only. NanoWrimo stands for National Novel Writing Month...

If you're thinking, "What? Write a novel in one month?"

To that I say, "Sure, why not?"

Check out the site if you're interested. The idea is to write 50,000 words by November 30th at midnight. There are no prizes awarded, other than the gratification of having committed to such a worthy project. And note: this is meant to be a FUN thing, and in no way should you edit your writing as you go...just write and let your imagination take you away. Do not critique yourself, leave that for the month of December. Create an outline first if you want to, to help create a foundation...but other than that leave it up to your muses to guide you. You can write fiction, non-fiction, sci-fi, humor, abstract...it doesn't matter. It's mainly to help develop your writing muscle, and meet deadlines.

If the site is down, keep trying. There must be a ton of participants this year...which is exciting! There have been authors with books eventually published from things they'd written during the Nano project. Like the book, "When Elephants Weep". Sign up, create an account...this is going to be fun!

http://www.nanowrimo.org/

This Just In: Newest DP Assignment !

Hello friends ... family,
Our next assignment should utilize humor. If you don't want yours to be funny then it can be serious. No worries.
Take a topic from your imagination and create a news article about it. Write the headline, and the body of the article. It doesn't have to be long, as a matter of fact, this assignment can be completely up to you as far as how much you write. You can write one, or ten funny headlines if you want - and leave out the body of the article entirely. Or you can write one long and serious article...whatever goes, goes. Here is an example of one I wrote the other day. Please bear with me! LOL. Inspired by the kind of writing done for The Onion. Visit their site if you want to search the archives of articles they have:
http://www.theonion.com/content/archives/30/838872000/1225512000


Wiccan Landlord Accepts Only Moon Purified Rent Money

Several tenants of an East Chicago duplex have reported that their landlady has not been accepting checks or money orders now that she has become a Wiccan. The Illinois native, Kattie 'Crowfeather' Willemson, claims she can't process them because her bank sits in a 'cosmically congested' part of town. As of three months ago, she accepts cash only - as long as it's been purified by the moon. Community college student Chad McGibbons says "It's frustrating...so many of us are students. We've got jobs, exams, families and friends. I don't know about the phases of the moon and if it's 9% crescent." Willemson has reserved her garden, named Gaia, for the tenants to perform the ritual. "I think it's weird," McGibbons told reporters. "My friend's think I'm nuts to actually follow along...but I gotta say the apartment is really nice. And Miss Willemson makes a mean cabbage soup."