I'll try with valleyspeak?
|# ¿ Dec 11, 2013 22:54|
|# ¿ Oct 23, 2021 14:10|
Nowhere Man and a Valley Girl
“You know, like, that bridge on the Coastal Highway or whatever? Like, the one with the sidewalk? Totally, near San Fernando, yeah. I like, ugh I mean it’s sooo sketchy. Left, there’s the loving Pacific and right there’s the street. No way. I can’t walk on it anymore. I have to stay, like, literally in the middle of the sidewalk, right? If I go too far left I think ‘oh my god I’m going to jump and I’m going to look so not adorbs on the 5 pm, right’. If I go the other way, I’m like, “me? in a car crash? as if.’ I just wouldn’t make a cute crash victim.”
She leaned back, checked her nails -- she was one of those girls who cares a lot about details, details -- and tilted her head, lips raised expectantly. He creaked forward in his chair, and shook his tie a little looser.
“Right, yes, I see. This is a problem I’ve dealt with before. There’s a lot of ways to kill yourself. But let’s start at the beginning -- do you have any experience trying this yourself? Any friends who’ve done it?”
“Once when this guy I was going with, I mean, like, I thought we were or whatever? Tom? Once when he was totally blitzed, like, way faced he shot himself in the face, right?”
“How did that turn out?”
“Grodie. I mean, he was totally rad, like a quarterback and played guitar and umm that jawline. But like, bullets gently caress jawlines, right? I was so embarrassed at the hospital when he was like, ‘she’s my girl’ I just left. I sooooo couldn’t be seen with him, please. I sent like a flower? With a note? That was like ‘uh, hope ur face is ok, omg, sorry, but, uh, that’s all’.”
As she spoke, she began to grimace. When she realized, she flipped her blonde (she used to call it strawberry blond, but lately it’s just been dirty) hair to frame her pouting lips.
“He tried to call me, but I, like, couldn’t understand what he was saying cause umm he only had half a face, so I just hung up?”
He placed his hands in his lap, straightened his face and leaned his shoulders back.
“So you don’t think this would work for you?”
“OMG, no. Like, totally no? My complexion is totally off for blood, and sorry not sorry, but this bone structure needs an open casket. Also, like, guns are so last year.”
“Alright. Are there any other times you can think of that things have gone better?”
“Well, ok, like, after Tom got back from the hospital right, I like. So, like, I kind of … We weren’t like together, ok, but I was like ‘fine, whatever’ when he was like, ‘I still love you’ and stuff. But it was like, hard, right? Like, I dunno? I mean, girls like me, we have to have standards, yeah? So I was like, ok, whatever, but if you think I’ll walk with you at school, please.”
As she spoke, she shifted her skirt left, right, right again, and pulled her feet up onto the chair.
“So I guess like um. I mean, I’m not like a skank but I mean sex was still like, rad, right? I would go to his house, but I mean, I would like, go in the backdoor -- so sketchy but I mean, I had to, right? And we would like, not make out or whatever, but you know, do stuff and then I’d leave. Well, I mean, sometimes we would talk and he would listen but I mean I felt bad, right?”
“It was like, not cool though. One day I was shopping or whatever cause like, I needed Louboutins and stuff with like Jenny and Kristine, you know? And I heard Jenny say something like ‘so Tom is still going with her or whatever’ and Kristine was like, ‘oh my god, so vom’ and I was like, ‘betch’ and left.”
“Where did you go?”
“I went and called Tom? And told him like, 'ok, people know. Sorry but we are so over'.”
She slumped down in her chair, a posture clearly unusual for her.
“So, like, he was on these meds or whatever? And I guess he was like, sad or whatever? So he like, took a handful of them and I guess it was too many?”
He let her sit in silence.
“And like, I guess that kills you or whatever? And like, he was totally weird looking from the bullet but at his funeral he was totally, like, calm and stuff, I guess.”
“Does that appeal to you?”
“Like, I guess so. I mean, it’s sooo embarassing but I keep thinking about him, and I mean, like, if it worked for him, right?”
“Are you sure about this?”
“I mean, like, those Louboutins I was shopping for? I like, didn’t even care. I don’t even know. I just. At least I’ll look good right? I look good?”
She primped for a moment, and thrust out her chin expectantly.
“Then like, totally, yeah. I want to. I want a funeral like his.”
He reached into one of the drawers in his desk, got out a handful of white pills, and offered them to her. She reached out a hand -- tan lines showed where she used to wear rings -- and took them.
“This like, won’t hurt or whatever? You’ll make sure at my funeral I’m wearing like the outift I picked out?”
“And I mean, I know it’s like awkward or whatever but, you can bury me next to Tom?”
She blew her hair out of her face, adjusted her sweater, and, like, swallowed.
|# ¿ Dec 13, 2013 00:52|
SEVENTY SECOND THUNDERDOME: big as poo poo
I want tall tales -- stories where characters do absurd poo poo without any trouble and the exaggeration is the story. Here's the wikipedia entry describing it further: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tall_tale. However, although tall tales are traditionally funny these can be dark if you want.
FURTHERMORE I want you to gently caress around with time. Maybe your character goes Gilgamesh and wrestles a bull for a couple days, maybe you have a time traveler, maybe some other poo poo happens I just don't want time to go normally.
Genre: Tall tale
Word Count: 1000 words
Deadline: Sign ups: Friday, December 20th, 10 pm EST Submissions: Sunday, December 22nd, 11:59 pm EST
Judges: Me, Mercedes, one lucky human
God Over Djinn
The Leper Colon V
No Longer Flaky
V for Vegas
Working on finding his manhood
foutre fucked around with this message at 03:52 on Dec 20, 2013
|# ¿ Dec 17, 2013 09:25|
In deepest Africa, apologies for the late crits, will do them tonight. Thunderdoming with the dikdiks.
|# ¿ Dec 24, 2013 05:10|
You don't gotta post crits at the same time you judge.
Oh thank god I thought that was a lot.
|# ¿ Dec 24, 2013 06:20|
|# ¿ Oct 23, 2021 14:10|
Merry Christmas, you horrible excuses for writers and human beings :]
Thank you, I'm in the irl jungle and internet is incredibly spotty. Apologies for letting down the Thunderdome, thanks for stepping up Mercedes. In retrospect, probably should have recused myself. For what it's worth, I was actually going to choose crabrock as well so it works out perfectly.
I'll regain my honor next year I guess.
|# ¿ Dec 26, 2013 03:54|