View Poll Results: So....

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  • Yeah, its funny.

    2 66.67%
  • Yeah, its ok. Needs work.

    0 0%
  • Uh, I don't get it...

    0 0%
  • Yeah it's funny. If you're two.

    1 33.33%
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Thread: Oh gross, reading.

  1. #11
    999 Knights Member Matt's Avatar
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    Dec 2010
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    Michigan
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    Slurpee, you have a sick sense of humor . . .

    . . . that correlates nicely with mine. I might try my hand at writing these little skit-type things now.

    Can I recommend you make a new paragraph for each new speaker in dialogue, though? It might make it a bit longer, but it'll make your stuff a lot easier to read.

  2. #12
    Devilish Member Slurpee's Avatar
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    Dec 2010
    Posts
    668
    Sure, I'll keep that in mind.

  3. #13
    Devilish Member Slurpee's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2010
    Posts
    668
    I don't know how to make the first paragraph of this better. This story is about why you should always take your meds.
    Medicinal Intervention Part 1
    SPOILER! :
    On my way to school this morning, I was late. Mom leaves for work before I wake up and I forgot to turn on my alarm clock. I felt like I forgot something important. When I bent over to tie my shoe outside, I noticed something moving in the corner of my eye. It was a tiny little red speck. Then, as it got closer I realized something. It was a garden gnome.
    Now I’m not the most intelligent of people in the world. I got held back in Kindergarten for “behavioral issues,” but I know for a fact, that garden gnomes do not move. They also do not try to hide behind bushes in a feeble attempt at camouflage. In all my twelve years of life I have never wanted to suddenly take a shit out of pure fear.
    I decide to keep on walking.
    No such thing as living garden ornaments. As I keep on walking to school I notice that the gnome has begun to follow me. I can hear the clink of his little shoes. He suddenly stops when I stop, and sometimes makes very bad attempts at hiding. I begin to speed up, and his tiny little gnome legs cannot keep up with me.
    Suddenly, I break into a sweat. Why is he following me? “Please sir, please slow down. I can barely keep up with you!” Oh great, it talks too. I keep staring, straight ahead, telling myself this isn’t happening.
    Gunshot! Crash! Slowly, I turn around. The little garden gnome has…. Exploded? Shot? Garden gnomes can’t live but guns are real. Who cares about school, I’m getting the fuck out of here. I run home, turn off all the lights and hide under my bed. I try to rationalize that the garden gnome didn’t feel any pain from the bullet, but it doesn’t seem to work.
    At some point I decide to get out from under my bed and make myself some nachos. I turn on the television and realize that I need this day off. Anyone would after seeing defenseless tacky pieces of talking lawn furniture get whacked.


    This one is about a husband to plan his wife, well at least at first.
    Toothpaste Part 1

    SPOILER! :
    Bertha and I have been stuck together for the past forty years. Now, by stuck together I mean, I knocked her up when I was 18 and she was 16. Bertha doesn't believe in marriage. " I don't need the state of New York to tell me I can legally piss you off. I can do that just fine without a certificate." But I, Michael Jefferson being the God fearing man that I am, married her.

    Now I remember why I am an atheist.

    Marriage has times of give and take. When I wanted to buy a new car, I kept the money for the kids' college. When she wanted new shoes I bought new shoes for her. If Billy got caught getting slinky with the neighbors' whore of a daughter, I blackmailed the neighbor. Looking back on my forty years with Bertha, I realized that it was a take and take with her.

    I couldn't take it anymore. Some people are annoying but Bertha is what my grand-kids call a grade A biyatch. That woman never learned how to let loose.

    One morning, on a Sunday I woke up early for work. It was one of those perfect mornings with the sun shining and the birds singing. The sort of morning that makes you want to just lie in bed and relax. I went to the bathroom to to take a piss. Bertha was already using the toilet.

    "Good Morning, darlin'"
    "Mmmf," she said sleepily, while trying to take a shit.

    She left the bathroom and I began to use the crapper too. I came back because I realized I forgot to shave.

    Then the most horrible, disgusting, thing in the world happened.

    She.
    Left.
    The.
    Cap.
    Off.
    Again.
    Oh no. Oh no anything but this. I cannot and will not stand for this. The first time this happened I forgave her. But she did it again. How could she? After everything I do for her in life, she can't do the simplest groveling task of putting the task back on a tube of makeshift astronaut food.

    I decided from that moment on that I would kill her.

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