charityb98

KM thanks again! I'm so honored!! That list was so fun!

Alright kiddies, let's get this rolling! We've dilly-dallied along for too long Ron, here ya go, word count...it's a toughy...164! WHOA! I'll pass the torch around midnight in one week...

bullet-proof
deceiving
thunder
box
expression
smooth
monkey
strike
impressiv e
nerve

LOL what a mix, nothing hard (no dictionary required this week ha!) Just have fun! Thanks again!

Dragon

Ok, I've been just itching to write again. Thanks for the great word list charity. Not sure if anyone else will like this but this is the quickest I've ever come up with a story. Here goes.

Thunder Box

They call me a thunder box and with good reason. Not just any monkey with a Class 5 licence can drive me. You have to have nerve to slide in behind the wheel and start the ignition but when you do you’ll find me ridiculously impressive. You feel an expression of pure joy spread across your face and when you open up the throttle you feel invincible, bullet-proof. But that feeling can be deceiving. My ride isn’t smooth like grandma’s Buick, you need a strong hand to control me, let up and I’ll fight you. One strike from one of the other drivers can send us careening into the wall or across the infield in a heart beat. The sound of quarter panels sheering off is an eerie one, one you never want to experience. Sure I’m built for safety, but most of all I’m built for speed. Got what it takes? Lets go, lets take that checkered flag. C’mon, get in and drive.

kmkagle

Dragon - you need to get a job on a newspaper! That's about the quickest story I have ever seen written!

kmkagle

DECEPTION

All day I’ve felt like I had a monkey on my back. Not being good at deceiving anyone, I placed the fake rings and other fine-looking jewelry back in my case. As I was closing up I heard the sound of thunder in the distance as the sky clouded up and darkened.

Grabbing my box of phony jewelry and with my best angelic expression on my face, I sauntered off to the local pub. Once there, I could do some smooth talking and strike a deal or two after the patrons had a few drinks. Entering, I took stock of who was seated at the bar, the pool table and side tables. Sitting at the bar were a few pigeons just waiting to be had. Climbing onto the barstool, unhooking the Velcro straps on my bullet-proof vest that I started wearing since it was a risky neighborhood for my trade. I took a much-needed deep breath, then ordered a shot and beer to strengthen my resolve.

There was an impressive sales talk on the tip of my tongue just waiting to drip off onto my future marks.

Alas, they turned to me, their bleary looking eyes taking on a questioning look. I heaved my case up on to the bar, opening to display my wares. Glancing from one pair of blood shot eyes to the other, my nerve was gone. Shrugging my shoulder, I closed up shop and slowly walked away. An honest man for one more day!

Dragon

Sounds like that guy needs a new job. He'd better get out of the grifting before he loses his moral compass.

Dragon

Alrighty, here's one that was rolling around in my head last night keeping me from sleeping. I really should have just got up and wrote it down but I was just too stubborn.


Family at Risk

The night flashed with a nearby lightning strike and the accompanying crack of thunder shook the windows in a rather impressive way but the inhabitants of the little cracker box of a house were too wound up in their own drama to notice.

“You deceiving little monkey,” she hissed, keeping her voice low so it wouldn’t carry into the living room where the t.v. blared. “How could you play me that way.”

He gave her a smooth, devil-may-care grin from across the table and simply shrugged his shoulders. An expression of rage flitted briefly across her face.

“You’ve got some nerve,” she said, “You think you’re bullet-proof, but I’ll get you back.”

“Are you going to go?” he asked. Enraged, she raised her hand...

and threw the dice on the table.

“Haha,” she crowed “I’m invading Poland!”

“Ok kids,” came their father’s voice, “Time for bed.”
They both groaned.

“Come on, you can finish your game tomorrow.”
With that he ushered them to bed.

kmkagle

Cute story Dragon.

kmkagle

BTW - the jewelry probably dissolved as soon as water hit it! That might be why he hurried before the anticipated rain came.

Doug

This one will be off the cuff. I'll spit and polish another one before the end date.

My Liver is a River
I once thought when I was 18 that I could drink like a sponge, nothing seemed impressive enough to slow me. By my late 20's I had an expression of happiness thinking I had a bullet-proof vest as I drank shots of monkey balls with an iron nerve at the bar which by the way was not called "club anything".
When I turned 30, my body started to "talk" to me with its impressive "you can't do this anymore" voice. I still thought it was OK.
It was only when that clap of thunder roared in my heart and the band began to strike the loudest drums pounding in my head that I listened. Well, not exactly. I was 45 before the smooth lubricating oil called alcohol became a deceiving curse that racked my once smooth body with aches, pains, a near pregnant belly, and what some physco-nazi doc type called a death sentence soon to be. For the sake of me, my family, and that nazi-bastard doc I quit.
It was 9/11/08. That pyschotic doctor is now in a pine box (smoking). The jokes on him!

lilalee

Doug, nice story! A nice testament!! I am married to a man who quit August 31, 1994!! It's not easy, and not easy to admit!! But, watching my husband, who started at age 15, and didn't stop till age 49, it is a miricle he is alive. But, by the grace of God, and strong support he is here, and happy! He does have some bad days, but not often now. As for my son and I, well we have been blessed with a husband and father that is here in our lives!! Thank you for reminding me not to take anything for granted!!

Doug

Lilalee: Thank you for the kind words! My story is not completely true or it wouldn't be a story. I pretty much followed the same path as your husband. I started very, very young, drank beer (my favorite) for the rest of my life until 9/11/08. I chose that day so I'd remember. The flip side to this story is that after all Kathy and I went thru with Alex almost dying in the hospital and spending 3 plus months in the ICU, having 6 surgeries, and hooked up to more tubes and being pumped with so many drugs that I started seeing a therapist. I was a "happy" drinker and didn't have any intentions of stopping, but decided to do it cold turkey. When I stopped my mind went haywire and now I take a few psych drugs to control a myriad of problems that was covered up (medicated) by the alcohol. So you're damned if you do and damned if you don't. Hows that for some "true confession" and I do apologize to Charity for blogging on your dime. (was that 164 words? lol).

Login

These stories just get better and better ... all of them.

Doug, so glad you recognised you had a problem and had the strength of character to deal with it.

anotherronism

“Funny That Way” by Ron

The bullet-proof limousine approached the square.

What an f-ing joke that was – a bullet-proof limo with the top down.

I crouched behind the sand fencing on the grassy knoll. I steeled my nerve.

Like a monkey with his organ grinder I responded to the thunder of the first shot.

We had the caravan in a standard box formation.

I was smooth with two shots – impressive timing with my comrade to the left. Time would always count my second and his first shot as one. Nice.

The strike had been planned for months. And it came off like clockwork. That deceiving commie bastard Lee, with his dead-man expression – yeah. He would be the patsy.

I bagged the weapon and waltzed right out of there. I had some Cubans that needed dirt naps. They were slippery those Cubans.

And I needed to pick up my pay.

It’s all in a day’s work anyways.

Funny how history has produced so many theories. Really. It’s funny that way.

Login

Welcome back Ron. I like this version of events ... 'never did believe the other theories.

Patrick

The Doll House by Doug

I"ve always had a "thing" about doll houses. Not your impressive variety with little tables and my brothers miniature stuffed monkey lounging on a Lucky Strike matchbox. This doll house was deceiving and took great nerve to pass by let alone venture near. I used to tell my Mom that I would need a bullet-proof vest or God's thunder to go there. But I did.
Recently, my Mom and I took a tour, ghastly as it may seem, of cemetaries where my kinfolk are buried. One such cemetary ,which contained more than boxes with ashes of my ancestors, had a doll house on one grave that to this day I'm afraid of. I stood there with no expression. At 43, I was standing next to a little girls grave. Through childhood we would drive by it and a light would flicker inside and scare the heck out of me. I expected the little girl's face to be peering out at me. Real smooth!

Patrick

sorry wish patch could write these things and no he hasn't been to the "doll house" which does exist. This is a very true story. I just needed to check on patch's piks. He is getting so talented.

SabraAngel

Good stuff people.

charityb98

"My wildly exciting night..."

The ball sounded like thunder rolling down the smooth waxed lane. It smashed into the pins sending them into wild disarray.

“YES another strike! Beat that!”

“Impressive.” I don’t think my tone or expression were deceiving. I’m pretty sure the message was clear this was the last thing on the planet I wanted to be doing.

I had one last nerve. I would try again.

Ashes, ashes, we all fall...down...

“Gutter-ball baby! Yeah!” he was smug. Smug.

“Ugh.”

Why the guy yelling at me to hit the restart button felt he needed to be in bullet-proof glass box was wildly apparent to me at this moment.

“Can we please do something else? A movie? A walk in the park?”

“Are you crazy? I’m on a roll! HA! I crack myself up.”

I felt like a monkey trying to talk to a gorilla. We spoke a similar language, but our dialect was different.

charityb98

Wow, I hope the list wasn't as hard for others as it was for me...I must have typed/deleted/etc 5 times!

PS, I love bowling, I just thought it was funny!

I'll announce the torch-bearer tomorrow! Thanks for your entries so far! I'll comment tomorrow. Nite nite!

Login

That was good, charity. I can identify with it ... not the bowling, but the situation. How many times over the years have I wished for an escape from certain social gatherings.