All right, you chuckleheads, I want to see you slaving over those potatoes.
Remember: bad can be good—if you're good.
|# ¿ Aug 5, 2012 07:43|
|# ¿ Jun 19, 2019 11:38|
It's the potatoes, man. There's so much you can say about potatoes.
|# ¿ Aug 8, 2012 18:14|
These contestants have tossed us their hot potatoes, and now we're off to mash 'em.
To the Losers. Right or wrong, we had a deal. And the law says: bust a deal and face the wheel.
|# ¿ Aug 10, 2012 05:06|
heh, later losers~
I think you mean, tater, losers.
I'm docking you 1 point for missing out on that pun, and another for omitting the comma before losers, loser.
VV Ooh, Nautatrol is so gonna get you later.
|# ¿ Aug 10, 2012 05:08|
Bastard! Mel Gibon's horse's arse got me again.
|# ¿ Aug 10, 2012 05:12|
Anyone who's character's agony is not directly related to potatoes loses 20 points. Sorry to all losers who could not read my mind.
|# ¿ Aug 10, 2012 05:34|
Is there a bonus if the agony is inflicted directly by the potatoes? This is important.
Read my mind, tato tosser!
|# ¿ Aug 10, 2012 05:40|
Ooh, I'm gonna let y'all wonder. I'm gonna let you stew.
|# ¿ Aug 10, 2012 05:49|
You're getting the head right now. Just ya'll wait until you get the shaft.
|# ¿ Aug 11, 2012 01:13|
I've finished all your stories and distributed my points. Now we're just waiting for those two other assholes to get their poo poo together. I won't reveal anything yet, but I will comment on the two who submitted late.
For your completely original use of the potato prompt and writing a decent, and hosed up, story about potato addicts, you get an honorary not a total dingus award. What does that mean? I might make your loser avatar less bad than the others—maybe.
|# ¿ Aug 11, 2012 04:35|
I have slaved away creating this potato avatar for you, from scratch, because I am awesome (and a poo poo animator, but never mind):
Your custom title shall be: "This is what you get for running under the wire." And in big red text underneath: "THUNDERDOME Potato Fic Competition 2012" It must be centered.
I have spoken (and done all the hard work so suck it, other judges).
The other losers will get theirs in turn (and I'm sure as hell not putting as much work into theirs because their stories weren't as awesome).
|# ¿ Aug 11, 2012 06:25|
You have been a very naughty boy, so this will be your new avatar:
The text will read: "Couldn't mash the keyboard fast enough to post 1000 words in five days. Spent the time writing about a woman getting murdered rather than potatoes. WTF" And in big red text: "THUNDERDOME Potato Fic Competition 2012"
|# ¿ Aug 11, 2012 21:10|
I'd post it early just to gently caress with them, but I hear Martello is preparing something special.
|# ¿ Aug 12, 2012 00:45|
All right, so now you know the winner, and loser, here are my results:
Horticulture at the end of the world
(nothing better to do in Invercargill)
+20 points for amazing word-slinging.
+5 points for the phrase "If we must fear potatoes and be ruled by fear, we are ruled by potatoes;" Such amazingly bendy logic deserves to be recognized.
-5 points for me not being stoned enough to really feel the agony, man.
Total: 20 points
+5 for the pun in the title.
-10 points for what the gently caress.
+20 points for WHAT THE gently caress.
-5 points for the Pink Floyd reference. Because lazy, that's why.
+5 points for capturing the true agony of a psychic potato attack.
+5 points for the phrase "THERE ARE FIVE POTATOES" reverberating in my head like it had Twilight Zone sound effects.
+10 points for writing such an awesomely hosed up story I unfavorably compared all other submissions to yours. Note: this contest is not fair.
Total: 30 points
The Potato Cult
+10 points for knowing your potatoes.
+10 points for writing about a naked man rolling in potatoes, and managing to be totally hilarious while being creepy as gently caress.
+5 points for reminding me of a Four in the Floor sketch that warped me for life when I was eight.
+5 points for making me go, "Ha!" when I read the officer joke.
-10 points for making me go, "Pfft …" after reading that moldy old officer joke.
Total: 20 points
+20 points for blowing up your protagonist with a potato.
-10 points for blowing up the dog, you monster.
+10 points for narrative voice.
-5 points for lackluster dialogue.
Total: 15 points
Would you like fries with that?
-10 points for starting your dialogue in a white room and not making it immediately clear your protagonist was sitting at home ordering over the phone rather than talking on the phone while standing in line to order. Sloppy writing, dude.
+5 points for decent dialogue.
-5 points for lazy writing such as, "The anger he felt was quickly replaced by embarrassment."
+10 points for making this dude really agonize over his potatoes.
+5 points for this line: "Grant was not circumcised and wondered if the choice of waffle fries would reveal this truth to his roommate."
Total: 5 points
The Tenant Farmer’s Lamentation
+10 points for being comically maudlin. I can practically hear the violins.
-10 points for not being sure if you're taking the prompt way too seriously.
Total: 0 points
-10 points for annoying me with the formatting. Oh ho, you made me roll over nothing! Tee hee. Well, now you don't get to win, Mr. Clever Boots.
+5 points for a pun in the title.
+5 points for the slow build to crazy town.
+5 points for the dude naming his potatoes.
+5 points for when the potatoes start talking to him.
+5 points for him agonizing over eating his personified potatoes.
+5 points for Canadian Surf Club's suggestion to read it in Captain Kirk's voice, making it all the more awesome. The rules are arbitrary, people. Deal with it.
0 points deducted for terrible writing—because you entertained me.
Total: 20 points
-20 points for writing about a creepy-rear end Frenchman agonizing over women rather than potatoes.
-10 points for boring me with bad verbiage.
+5 points for having the brass potatoes to lip off the judges before casting our votes.
Total: -25 points
+10 points for the first line: "the sun above a fiery griddle cake sliding down the red-hot sky."
+10 points for having the sheer taters to have your fantasy characters say poo poo like, "Ho!"
+5 points for pulling out all stops with that "King of the Fairies" bit.
+5 points for writing a ridiculous fairy tale.
-5 points for not being ridiculous enough.
-10 points to offset Martello's massive man-crush on you.
Total: 15 points
-10 points for calling death "Azrael" and trying to lampshade it with, "I see. A bit of a let-down." The joke would have worked if you called him Barry or something. Since you skirted the funny line but didn't quite cross it, this mediocre story fills me with meh.
Total: -10 points
The Priest's Choice
-20 points for your character not agonizing over literal potatoes.
+25 points for your character agonizing over his balls and calling them potatoes.
+10 points for having a priest squeeze his own balls.
-10 points for stilted and rambling expository dialogue.
-5 points for saying you liked the loser's story.
Total: 0 points
A Potato Bet
+15 points for making the punchline every whiny goon on SA.
-5 points for not making me feel the agony over those sour potatoes.
Total: 10 points
Life Under Soil
+20 points for taking the same concept as SC Bracer and turning into a proper story dripping with goony agony and awkwardness.
Total: 20 points
Canadian Surf Club
The Silence of the Potatoes
+10 points for writing about a tin hat who talks to his potatoes and making it completely original from all the other stories where the potatoes talk to crazies.
+10 points for ending with a metal as gently caress potato slaying.
+5 points for the line, "The potatoes were humming joyous".
Total: 25 points
Jim Robinson on Spotify
-20 points for a man agonizing over his son more than potatoes.
+20 points because that's realistic, and it's not a bad story.
-5 points because this last line is super weak: "Ice Cream played on Spotify, and Kurt was fine with it."
Would have been a respectable 15 if you met my mysterious bullshit criteria. That's Thunderdome.
"Blue Ribbon... Potato?"
+10 for brutal editing. The scene was decent without those 150 words, so they were probably all bullshit anyway.
-5 for not cutting all the right words. You could trim the verbiage and add more relevant details.
-5 for ellipsis abuse. I wasn't going to dock points for this, but you did it in the friggin title and that makes baby potatoes cry.
+5 for that alien potato ... thing. I don't have to follow my own rules in this contest. Shut up.
+5 for Margaret's rules lawyering (great unlikeable character there).
+5 for a potato's scream breaking a dude's teeth. Holy gently caress, dude.
+5 for getting around the prompt by having your character agonize over Mrs. Potato head. Close enough for me.
+5 because that Christmas scene is the goddamned truth and it's ridiculous.
+5 for coming up with "Paula Tater."
Man Who is Immune to Tranquilizers
-5 for loving up your opening paragraph with the wrong tense.
+5 for making me laugh with "super cancer" even though that's such a bad line I slapped myself afterwards.
+5 for the doctor acting like an idiot and yelling, "You stabbed him in the brain!"
-10 for this horrible horrible line: "Override his pain system, turn off all pain sensors, activate the sleep program, bob’s your uncle," and then lampshading it. Yeesh.
+20 for all this:
Genada moved in front of the doctor, staring at Spud. “You are incredibly allergic to potatoes. Your pain is because you insist on sleeping on a bed made out of potato. To avoid further pain, stop sleeping on a potato bed. Or drinking from a potato mug. Or writing with potato pen. Avoid potatoes in general.”
THE GORTA MOR
+10 for knowing your Gorta Mor before writing a story about the potato famine in Ireland.
+10 for writing a damned good story.
0 points deducted for taking the prompt seriously, because you wrote a damned good story.
Total: 20 points
|# ¿ Aug 12, 2012 02:54|
You boys need a real woman to show you how dystopian chick-lit is done.
Also, I'm over the 500 word count, but I'm a goddamn judge so this is DQ'd anyway. Deal with it.
Sabine carried her arsenal in a Fendi handbag: taser, pepper spray, c4, detonators, and doorknobs. Lots of doorknobs. With its thick re-enforced leather handles, she could get a good swing, clock a girlie out cold at three paces. It’s how the Leatherettes rolled.
They ran the streets at night, stealing and dealing antiques, illegal leather goods. Some old grannies still wore Italian leather with pride in the day, grandfathered in. As they kicked the bucket, the state burned it all.
“Ready?” said Cindy, clicking closed her little black Chanel. She couldn’t sling it without breaking the delicate chain handle. She didn’t have to. She earned that bag roughing up a Ragdoll on Hollywood Boulevard, clawed her way to the top without breaking a nail.
Sabine strong-armed for her half a year now. She gripped the Fendi, ready to crash the Bimbinos’ party in their shady back-alley tanning parlor.
“Set,” said June, backing away from the steel door. The gang crouched behind a dumpster as she set off the charge. With a poof the door blew an inch ajar.
Sabine pressed her own remote detonator. That would cut the power. With eyes already adjusted to darkness, they had the advantage in this “pillow fight.”
“Go,” Cindy yelled. The Leatherettes charged.
The Bimbinos crawled from their tanning booths, blinking dumbly in the darkness.
“How many blondes does it take to change a lightbulb?” June catcalled.
A manicured talon missed Sabine’s face by inches as she stepped aside. She tripped her blind attacker. Whump—the bag went down on the bimbo’s neck, catching a whirlwind of bleached hair on its handle. The girl crumpled.
Someone had Cindy in a headlock. Sabine stepped over to reach her, but June came up behind and beaned the Bimbino with a Burberry. She let go, and Cindy drove a black patent pump into the girl’s gut.
A pop and a zap—Cindy convulsed before collapsing. loving taser—Sabine’s crouched behind a tanning booth. A light snapped on, wavering over Cindy’s sprawled out form. Sabine closed one eye and held breath.
“Darling child,” said a husky voice, “you really oughta know better.”
Sabine crept up behind. She pulled out her own taser—you chose to escalate, bitch—and fired. The old vulture fell over, following up Cindy’s horizontal tap dance with her own. The handheld floodlight crashed to the floor, illuminating the Bimbino queen’s face. Blood dripped from ruby lips onto a white fur collar. A pin on the lapel said, “Fur is murder.” Unconscious, she held her handbag in a death drip. A Prada.
A real loving Prada.
While June wrestled two Bimbinos to the floor, Sabine snatched her prize and bolted for the door. Swinging a bag like that, she could scoop up her own gang. No more small time. She clopped down the alley in clicking heels, and ran headfirst into a copper.
“Whatcha got there, miss?” He grabbed her arm.
“None a yer business, pig.” She tried to wriggle away. Stuffing a hand in the Prada, she felt lipstick tubes and compacts—nothing useful. Taser for pigs, pepper for creeps, doorknobs for dolls. A girl has to be prepared. She’d left her reliable old Fendi behind.
The police released Sabine two hours later. She’d always outrun them before, had no record. She lost her head this time, over a handbag they now dumped back in her lap with a, “Keep out of trouble.”
Why the hell are they giving it back? It’s—she ran a hand over brown leatherette—a loving knockoff.
|# ¿ Aug 16, 2012 05:26|
OMG hurry up you retards we want to know the results
Watch it, or I'll give you this for an avatar:
Hell, I'm tempted to give you all that avatar, because you all sucked this round and I had to read them all again today with a killer migraine. Also, I'm tempted to give it to Sitting Here if he goes awol on us, because I have a loving migraine and I still managed to come up with a list of potential winners and losers. I'm going to bed. Peace out, losers.
|# ¿ Aug 19, 2012 04:12|
You can't have a Randian superman without an illogical weak female, aspersions of sexism aside. I won't blame the prompt for my so called failure, and I will simply use my current position of weakness to redouble my efforts and seize the moral victory.
I was looking for Randian superwomen, yo. Serves you right for taking that phrase so literally (rather than the figurative "man" as in "mankind" which includes women) while completely forgetting about the chicklit part. This is your prize:
I'll think up the text later when my head stops throbbing. Also, we're changing it up. I'm stepping down this week and Martello's staying in charge because I'd rather get loving high on triptans and space out for a week. I'll post my results whenever I make them more coherent than, "Arrrghfuckinblaaaaaah."
|# ¿ Aug 19, 2012 20:45|
Most of you fail this round for not getting the distinction between chick lit and romance. Chick lit is not some 50 Shades of Grey garbage all about goose-honking over a hunka hunka man. It's all about the wimminz. Sure it's pink and pulpy, but many of you are so "eww girl cooties" you couldn't be bothered to come up with strong female characters. I don't think you've been paying attention:
What the hell is this even about? 500 word limit doesn't mean ramble on and go bleargh gently caress it at the end. You were second in the running for The Loser for this.
Also, this doesn't count as chick lit because she didn't squee over those dresses.
The Flavor of Fish
When will my prince come?
Bzzzzt. Shift is over. Time to go back to the salt mines, loser.
Diary of Bootstrapping the Apocalypse
gently caress you, mom, I made this burlap sack dress myself. Shut up about the pool tarp = awesome.
Bonus points for "Reverse-Sadie-Hawkins Blood Pairing." Lil' Abner, gently caress yeah.
Dystopian Chick, Lit
Couldn't finish the story in 500 words. Ha ha.
Otherwise, not terrible.
Greed, Pay, Love
Other than cribbing A Clockwork Orange and Judge Dredd wholesale in bits, your setting is cool.
Also, I'll forgive you for mixing up the chick lit/romance poo poo because this story made me laugh.
Your protagonist is not even a real woman. Also, electricity doesn't count as girl power. Points for doing it from the sex bot's pov though.
50 Shades of Ash
Your male character is doing all the talking, and all she can respond with is smiling weakly. Weakly.
If Martello wasn't pulling for you, I'd give you an Illegit Chicklit avatar.
one way to find out
"I wouldn't have sex with you if you were the last woman on the planet."
Dun dun DUN …
Good stuff, man.
Sincerely, "Enturbulated in Ronopolis"
Scientologist run state is legit scary.
Also, your strong female character is legit scary.
I have a feeling next week's prompt is going to be legit scary.
drat, it's so hard when you hit the glass ceiling after the apocalypse.
Bonus points for actually passing the Bechdel test, but it just squeaks by.
The clone setting is neat, but your female character is super weak. Jane Austin's characters had more balls than this and she lived in the Victorian era.
The Executive's Suite
Oh look, it's Thelma and fuckin Louise in a "future" that pretty much resembles the 50s. I guess that's close enough to a dystopia. Not bad.
Ouch, man. This is loving depressing. A real dystopia.
“Just don’t let him be some idiot.”
“…Keep your expectations reasonable, Cynthia.”
Bonus points for at least that much levity, because goddamn.
Canadian Surf Club
The Department of Female Affairs
This is like some dark satire where the Patriarchy looms above, making women catfight using the bureaucracy as their claws. I don't know whether to laugh or
the world is broken and i am meat
This was loving amazing.
I slotted you for winner for this, even though it barely meets the criteria, but BudgieInspector's was in my top three and the other judges liked it better.
The More Things Change...
Reverse feminism. Ok then. This is legit hosed, but it's funny.
"A Harrowing Escape"
Your female protagonist is so loving weak she needs a man to tell her what to think, but is all confused because some other men already told her what to think. Super creepy, dude.
"The Shoe Sale At The End Of The Earth"
gently caress yes, amazons of the shoe department.
Observation Squad Dropout
Tell me honestly, did you shove that hilarious brand name bullshit in there before or after I posted my story? Either way, good show.
Bonus points for making her miss her old life, giving her more motivation to fail at her new career than just being a cardboard cut-out falling for a dude.
Confessions of a Chopaholic
Ewww, too much man meat. This reminds me of my uncle, who used to go hunting up in the Yukon to bag a moose, forcing his family to eat nothing but moose meat for months on end until my cousin was so sick of meat she became a vegetarian.
Tagged for Love
What the gently caress is this straight out of the 50s bullshit.
Yes, real life in a cubicle is a dystopia. I get it.
The Colors of Revolution
I tell ya, I did the same thing in the army before women had regulation underwear.
Liked this overall, but needs work.
Hmm, strong female character present, but something puts me off about this.
Wait, I know what's wrong with this picture: TOO MANY DICKS ON THE DANCE FLOOR.
The Beauty of Progress
I'm on the fence about this one. It seems to meet the criteria, but it's written so badly I can't be bothered to form an opinion about it other than bleargh, super bad dialogue.
Death and the City
Yes, we all get that Sex in the City 2 was so terrible it's a joke, but you really didn't put in enough effort to make it funny.
|# ¿ Aug 20, 2012 00:47|
I'm still a bit confused about the 'chick lit' genre, despite being a woman. I thought chick lit was humorous fiction about women dealing with issues in their lives?
You're not wrong there, just missing something. Chick lit is the lighter, pulpier bratty little sister of women's lit. Much of it is shallow and terrible, which is why the genre has cooties. It's not romance though. More often it involves dumping douchebags because Girl Powah.
You failed this round because you pretty much wrote a straight up pirate story with a lone female protagonist. If you'd filled out your cast with more women, for example had another woman kick her in the stomach instead of a dude, or another female crew member to talk to, it would have met my criteria. One woman in a sea of dicks is not chick lit—she must interact with other women to make the genre cut (lots of people failed here though). Though you did have the douchebag dumping part down.
|# ¿ Aug 20, 2012 02:10|
It's easy. Just think of a man and take away reason and accountability!
Don't forget to mention her boobs every paragraph!
|# ¿ Aug 20, 2012 02:29|
Thanks for that explanation. I'd just like to point out that Lan is a woman's name and therefore the quartermaster was also female, but I guess it's not obvious if you're not Vietnamese. vv
Well, drat. I didn't catch that at all.
I'm not revising my crit through because I fuckin love that song.
|# ¿ Aug 20, 2012 02:36|
Yeah, these short word counts are really forcing people to wring the stale water out of their prose.
Says the person almost 100 words over the word count this round.
|# ¿ Aug 20, 2012 03:07|
Good thing Martello's stepping down this week.
Nah, it would just be cyberpunk with a side-order of cyberpunk. And I would demand DEVO references.
Think about what you could have had in an alternate dimension. Now I'm sad, and it's all your fault, you awful awful people. I'm going back to my mountain.
|# ¿ Aug 27, 2012 06:20|
Orders from on high tell me there will be no more free lunches when it comes to avatars. Seems you've been enjoying your losertars too much, so now all you losers get one. What that is, you'll find out when the hammer comes down.
|# ¿ Aug 28, 2012 01:24|
Just to clarify, you don't have to write about Gary Numan being trapped somewhere. Goddamnit, Martello, learn how to construct a damned sentence. We want you to use a Gary Numan song as inspiration, taking a single lyric as a prompt, using the rhythm in one of his songs for your prose, or whatever. Whatever you do, the influence has to show. However, don't just copy a whole song's lyrics, because I'm pretty sure that's plagiarism.
Using "Cars" is an automatic DQ. In fact, I'd rather you used an album before the The Pleasure Principle. Anything he did with Tubeway Army is acceptable.
You don't know his stuff, look him up on YouTube. You don't like his stuff, tough.
Let the Gary Numan Challenge begin.
|# ¿ Sep 5, 2012 02:05|
I didn't realize I had to break things down to kindergarten level just so the contestants can wrap their tiny shriveled brains around a simple concept.
There you go. That's the Martello we all admire. Was beginning to think that week off made you soft.
|# ¿ Sep 5, 2012 02:19|
For about five seconds, I thought we were talking about Randy Newman. I was not happy with that at all.
That's Cheap Trick. I don't give a goddamn how cool The Stranglers or The Clash or whoever are. Band substitutes will not be permitted. This is the motherfucking Gary Numan challenge, not the general 80s synthpop/New Wave challenge.
Edit: So, I decided to kick back and listen to Tubeway Army because I haven't heard it in ages, except for putting "Jo the Waiter" on all my playlists, and there staring me right in the loving face is "The Dream Police." Bonus 10 points (or banana, or whatever we're scoring with this week) to SurreptitiousMuffin for me thinking of Cheap Trick, officially making you cooler than me. You all have permission to point and laugh for the next page or so.
|# ¿ Sep 5, 2012 02:47|
However, I do approve of SurreptitiousMuffin calling dibs. That should prevent you all from choosing Down in the Park or something.
You all have until the sign-up deadline to declare your song.
|# ¿ Sep 5, 2012 02:59|
I disapprove of Stuporstar existing. Does that count for anything?
Back to the gulag, raggedy man.
|# ¿ Sep 5, 2012 04:56|
b-b-but he covered it. It's on Tubeway Army. I already wrote most of the story.
Totally different song with the same name. You're in the clear.
Also, how the hell did you not catch my edit exonerating you when you posted an hour after I figured it out? Is this some kind of … wait for it … cheap trick?
|# ¿ Sep 5, 2012 06:33|
Had post reply open, went away to do something else for a few hours, forgot to refresh the thread .
Ah, ok. I've been reading way too much Alfred Bester and imagined you got trapped in a temporal anomaly.
|# ¿ Sep 5, 2012 07:15|
^^ All right, but if you're going the biography route, your Numan-based protagonist must have aspergers.
I don't even know who the hell that is but whatever, in. Checking him out on Wikipedia and claiming... Sister Surprise. That's where I randomly scrolled to.
Oh ho, someone thinks they're too cool for Gary Numan, does he? Then randomnly rolls the dice and lands on … mid-80s overproduced synthpop era layered in backing vocals and saxophone.
… carry on.
I don't know who Gary Numan is so I'll let someone else choose my song for me. I pre-emptively choose the next song someone posts as their own.
I'm assigning you "We Have a Technical" because it's the longest song I can think of, and if it turns out you don't like Gary Numan, it'll make you suffer for being too damned lazy to look him up.
|# ¿ Sep 5, 2012 15:57|
Oh oh, toanoradian is growing into those boots. Will he grow too big? Stay tuned.
Good job picking up the slack there.
Also, this round, if you can only squeeze a good 500 words or so out of your Numan prompt, don't try to pad it out. I'd rather read tighter, short pieces (and it looks like more people are joining this round, so don't you dare bore me). 1000 words is the upper limit.
|# ¿ Sep 6, 2012 05:43|
The Thunderdome calls me from a Z-drug induced slumber. Will I remember this in the morning? No matter. Get these damned haunts out of my head, calling me, calling me. kangaroojunk's kung-fu beats itself out of the corner into the running up. Fanky Malloons' bull bellows, but tails off into a groan. It is certainly metal, sound of mental. Wrageowrapper's words sliver over my eyes like worms, worming into my skill. Skill? Good second person. The You calls to action, but what are we to do with sentient glass? It is a monster you have created. What have you done? Shythesizers wail in the background. Nuuu Nuuu Numan Nuuu nuuu nu …
Benagain What did you do again?
swaziloo You too. You are not one of the voices.
SurreptitiousMuffin is guffin. Piggy piggy pig get out of my head. It's you in there, squirming around with Wrageowrapper while getting punked in the kangaroojunk. Y Kant Ozma Post? Why not? I never understood the question. It eats at me. Why is boy killing ducks? Nooo, it is not nice story, but good story.
Chairchucker you motherfucker. Why did you do it again?
Capntastic not so tastic. Droney conversational tone. Read out loud. No flow, my eyes slide off and sizzle like two eggs on the computer screen. It burns.
Sitting Here in the dark with nothing to do is a terrible way to be. There's no story there. What's going on? sebmojo where's your mojo? On a walkabout while you churn out words? Why Halo? Why the game Halo for Halo? Lazy association word game thing like "Sister Surprise." Ha! I get it. Frownyface.
Baudolino bombing Dresdon. Kurt Vonnegut was down there, YOU MONSTER.
Seldom Post the Sound is not loud enough to penetrate my dreamy haze, buried so deep in a mountain. I feel nothing but for the burnt man vividly described. He is so alive before dead.
Nyarai Get out. Get Out! GET OUT! Get out of my head you fucker. I said I was done with you, but he never killed the cat, I give him that much. I got out of that box before it ever got that bad. Go to your mother, you twit! Sorry, Can't be objective about this one. It burns.
TequilaJesus Down in the park where the Machmen meet the machines playing kill by numbers, this story didn't rise far from the song.
HiddenGecko Why would a gelatiny bob be scared of a child? You never explain and it hurts me man, it really does, cause me and this story had something here, but it wasn't really going anywhere.
budgieinspector Is unfinished, but not no more. Will check later.
Noah Creepy, and want to know more.
Dr. Kloctopussy Most enjoyed. Almost one. Won. Will discuss more later when I'm not free-associating with garbled dreams. Stop clamoring for attention. You all get your turn. Why you all wake me up to do this?
Black Griffon Anticlimax. Subway automatons good. Must get back to bed before I crash. Out all of you! Out of my head. Aunty need beddy-bye, shut eye, shut up.
|# ¿ Sep 10, 2012 11:32|
Did I really sleep-crit on Zopiclone?
Oh gently caress, I really did. I thought I dreamed that.
|# ¿ Sep 10, 2012 21:13|
You still got perfect punctuation and grammar while zombified. Color me impressed.
People sleep-drive on Ambien, and this one's similar. All I can remember is fighting with words. Dream-like, I kept typing out the wrong words. Metal would become mental. I'd retype it. It came out mental again, over and over. I'd say gently caress it and move on.
|# ¿ Sep 10, 2012 23:04|
I would really appreciate any discussion you've got. I really like the idea, but am not in love with my execution. I am probably going to rewrite it in third person and expand it to double the size to actually develop the backstory/world. I'll post it in CC after that, but any advice you (and anyone, really) have to help me get started would be awesome.
You story concept is unique and interesting and I like the character's voice. Also, the idea of a man with a girl's shadow is truly creepy. I'd love to see this detailed and polished. Keeping it ambiguous about whether or not this girl is insane also kept me interested. I could see this published in Shimmer, which just went up to pro rates.
Edit: feel free to pull it from this thread if you do decide to submit it somewhere so you don't get nailed for already being "published."
|# ¿ Sep 11, 2012 04:24|
Way too obvious, I'm going BC mythical.
Oh oh, wait, you don't mean the province. Nevermind.
|# ¿ Sep 11, 2012 18:28|
Also, we need another silly prompt. These last few weeks have been too loving morbid by half.
The Numan prompt was meant to be silly. It's not my fault people didn't decide to take it that way. <>
Executive Order: Next week your main character must wear a silly hat, toupee, or full wig, regardless of context or what the judges come up with for a prompt. I won't be judging because I'll be on vacation, but that doesn't matter. I want to see ridiculous headgear. NO FEDORAS.
|# ¿ Sep 14, 2012 04:40|
|# ¿ Jun 19, 2019 11:38|
Holy poo poo, he actually grew a pair.
I was content sit back and to see if MadRhetoric would deliver, and he submitted something that wasn't as terrible as he threatened. We cool.
A high speed chase down my street ended when a guy plowed into the utility pole, knocking out the power until 6:30 AM. For the second time I have shamed myself in the thunderdome because I didn't get anything done earlier .
This is what happens when you wait until the deadline to start writing. Go ahead and submit something if you got it though. I just woke up in a good mood after hitting a great party last night, so I'm all full of warm fuzzies.
|# ¿ Sep 15, 2012 19:40|