Quiz Results

The results are in!

In third place, earning five points with an 89% team average: The World Series Fixers

In second place, earning 10 points with an 89.2% team average: The Drug Store Owners

In first place, starting off the competition with 15 points and a 96% team average: The Oculists.  This team's members all got As on the quiz; good job, you wild wags!

The Golfers weren't too far off with an 86% team average. I do want to remind you that while a low score wins in golf, it does not win in The Great Gatsby Smackdown!

Workout

I love carbs, but they don't like me;
Big chubby cheeks that all can see,
A curse that comes from too much pie,
Snack cakes, sweet tea, ham on rye.

Go to gym four times per week,
Dance class twice, stay with beat,
Bend knees, side step, back once more,
Hang tough, fall down, hit the floor.

Jump rope, biker hard, swim ten laps,
Push up, pull back, walk real fast.
Lean, mean shape and abs of steel,
Less food in, needs good strong will.

Now, for you, this tale is done;
Look out, bake shop, here we come!

Trees

The tree sways back and forth to find a thing to do. It waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits. then it takes place. the cow comes at a run right at the tree, but it can not move.  so the cow hits the tree and the cow falls over.  The tree is proud. it is still tall and as high as a tall tall tall tall hill. the tree feels like no thing can take it down. so the tree waits and waits and is proud and waits and waits. The tree is still at a wait when the giant truck comes straight at the tree. It feels proud and stands tall. The big truck hits the tree and it falls the tree falls, but then the tree picks it self back up.  The roots kept the tree safe and it stands back up. it picks its self up in hard times and keeps on.

A strange death.

"A man can only be pushed so far."Bradford Craus thought to himself. Craus was a humble businessman sitting, somewhat ironically, on the edge of the roof of the Precipice Hotel and Spa. Down below him he saw people going about their business unaware of his presence. Egotistically he sneered at them. "Forget them. Guys like me either live life in control or take it by force." He thought. "I will be in control of my life, even if that means deciding when to end it. Just one small step or scooch." "Killing oneself  is never easy." Leered a new voice. "Mister Quanthal?" Needled Craus. "Of course it is. Perhaps you expected your mother?" Quanthal asked. "Regardless of my personal feelings towards you, Mr. Craus, I am here to remind you that suicide is in direct violation of your contract. Stipends lost or penalized will be taken directly from your family. That's just the way it is." Uttered Quanthal in an uninterested monotone. "Very well then. We all knew it would come to this. Xerxes!" Yearningly Quanthal said after being met with silence. Zoom went Craus' body as it flew toward the street below.

Help

All alone in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night.
Branches creak overhead and animals watch from the gloom.
Could I outrun a bear or beast if it came to it?
Doubtful.
Each minute I'm here my survival rate goes down.
Faint sounds of a river-maybe a larger creek?-come from my left.
Getting back to civilization is key so I walk to the river in hopes of it passing through a town but something stops me first.
Here I trip over something big and solid and wet.
I'm afraid to look but I have to know.
Jerking back after I see what tripped me I almost throw up.
Keeping away from the mutilated carcass of what used to be my friend and camping partner I hurry on through the woods.
Leaving him behind made me feel terrible but I could send people for him later.
My life was on the line here, his was already gone.
Naturally I'm terrified and already running, but this time I watch where I step.
Oceans of sound assault me as I run and I think I even hear footsteps keeping pace with me just a few trees away.
Panic is slowly setting in and I'm not even looking where I'm going anymore.
Quicker, please let me be quicker!
Racing a hidden threat has my adrenaline pumping but my energy is running out...
Secretly I almost wish the Thing would go ahead and take me, just so this could end.
The Thing seems to like to play and continues the chase.
Unfortunately for me-and even the Thing as it seems to enjoy my suffering-it looks as it I have nowhere else to run.
Vultures will have first pick of my corpse, I can already see them flying over us.
Will my body even be found?
Xanthic rocks loom above me and continue both left and right, there's no escape.
Yellow light of the moon makes everything around me ethereal as I turn to face my Death.
Zephyrs blow around me, encouraging me, as I stare straight at the Thing and decide I'm not going down without a fight....

The Stories You Write at 9:00 O'clock...

An all together unusual thing happened last Friday. Bea and I were out scouring the hotel lobby, far later than anyone should be in a hotel lobby, looking for the last remnant of Professor Que's puzzle. Careful to leave no stone un-turned, I tossed away every throw pillow and looked under very vase and novelty sculpture. "Donna, I found something!" Bea exclaimed while running over from the far side of the room. Envelopes, three of them to be exact, were hidden in a light fixture hanging over one of the restaurant's booths. Fingering them for a moment, I opened the first one gingerly. "Greeting!" it started, "How your lives are going to change after tonight! I honor you with being at the center of its destruction." Just as I suspected, Professor Que can't help being poetically morbid. "Kindly open the other other envelopes before continuing." Leaving the opened envelope in Bea's hands I open the other two envelopes, each only containing a slip of paper with strange symbols on each. "Mandarin- each paper contains a phrase that will bring about the end of the world." Nothing like the end of the world written in Mandarin to calm your nerves. "Openly proclaim my intentions to the world- and my cryptic Mandarin text- and the world will end with your words. Privately hide them away, and you can kiss your loved ones goodbye- the only thing you have been seeking this whole quest." Que was a madman, and we both knew that he was capable of both of his threats. Realistically, Que could have the catalytic to the world's demise. "So what we do now?" "Translating the Mandarin sounds like a good place to start." Unfolding the paper, I pulled out my phone to type in the Mandarin phrases. Visibly shaking, I read the first phrase out loud. "Weaver Spider- how is that dangerous?"

"Xcarpath..."

"Yeah... what does it mean, Donna?"

"Zenith Rising- it's a company that makes Xcarpath... what if Que tampered with it and wants to turn it against the world?"

Clever

At some point we all break. Breaking hurts but it is necessary. Caring people will help you through it. Difficult as this may be, there are better days in the future. Everyone has rough days. Forgive me if it seems like I'm trivializing your problems, I just meant you're not alone. God can and will always be there. He'll never leave, you just have to turn to Him. I had to do that once, you know, submit. Just because I couldn't do it alone anymore. Kept trying to do it all myself but it was torture. Letting go of my circumstances and giving them to God was painful and difficult but so worth it. My life changed for the better in so many ways. Now I can confidently say I walk with God daily. Of course there are still rough days, but they are bearable. Problems and trails are still there. Quality time with God and my friends is what helps the most for me. Really helps. Sometimes I just realize how blessed I am to have friends like them. They listen and care about everything and that means so much to me. Unbelievable how much they put up with me haha. Very thankful for them. Whatever, this is getting too emotional for me. Xylophones are instruments. You knew that, but i told you anyway. Zirconium is an element.

Ferris and His Tree

A tree stood alone at the top of a hill. Before he realized, the young boy was on his way towards the tree. Carefully, he climbed up the grassy slope without making much noise. "Don't let me see you outside, Ferris," he remembered his mother yelling from the kitchen as he did his lessons. Even so, the day was too nice to not be exploring. For once, Mrs. Cobbler must be okay with one less child to homeschool. Greeting the wind and birds and sun along the way, Ferris finally made it to the top of the hill, where stood his favorite tree. "Hi tree!" Ferris excitedly exclaimed. "I've finally returned to climb you again." Just two weeks ago was when Ferris discovered his leafy friend about a half-mile east of his house. Keeping this tree company became Ferris' occupation, but it was a tricky job, for his mother doesn't like him leaving the house during "school time." Lots of cool things could be happening during school time, the young explorer discovered, things cooler than school. "Mom doesn't know I'm here," explained Ferris as he jumped up, grabbing ahold of a sturdy branch a few feet off of the ground. "No one does, actually," he continued while hoisting himself up, "well, except you and me." Over the sound of the wind rushing and leaves shaking, Ferris heard the chirping of a tiny blue bird. "Precisely as I expected!" he announced proudly. Quietly, he climbed up to where a small nest was built and asked the tree, "When did he hatch?" Rustling leaves answered Ferris that the lonely baby bird had hatched only that morning, or at least that's what the boy heard. "Surely his mom will come back soon." Talking about it made him sad. Unless she's dead, the momma bird always comes back, right? Very soon after this thought, Ferris heard his mother yelling from afar, "Ferris! FERRIS!!! Get home right NOW!!" "Well, that stinks," Ferris mumbled to his tree friend, while retrieving a small pocket knife from his shirt pocket and engraving something into the tree's bark. "X... There we go!" Ferris exclaimed. "You stay right here, tree, and keep an eye on the baby bird, and I'll come back later with some worms." Zooming down the hill and back home, young Ferris  began planning his new adventure as the Bird Rescuer.

Oh moon, oh moon

Oh moon, oh my moon
I love your pure light.
It gave me a smile
The first time in life.

As I close my eyes
You shine on me.
Your pure light
Guards as I sleep.

Or if my eyes stare,
You stay up with me
All through the night
For I have vile dreams

Oh moon. oh my moon
Your burst of beauty
Plain but so pure
Shine on this sleep of mine.

Los Animales

I love dogs. I love cats. I can pet dogs and cats. This makes me glad. When I can't it makes me sad. If you hurt them you're bad.

X

"Ahh yes, detective, welcome back to my special room!"

"Before you say anything else, X, let me make this clear, I'm not playing any of your games today."

"Come now, detective, I know that deep down inside you really enjoy my games."

"Don't try to change the subject, you know why I'm here."

"Even though last time you were crying tears of joy, you still don't like to play my games; if only that little partner of yours hadn't died on us, I was just starting to grow fond of her."

"Forging the President's signature, larceny, multiple cases of murder in the first degree, and do I even need to mention the bombings; we have everything we need to lock you up for good, but we haven't yet... do you know why?"

"Good question, detective, let me guess hmm... is it... because... OH OH, is it because you think I know where Zamborini's hideout is?"

"How did you know?"

"I can read you like a book, detective, there's nothing you can keep from me!"

"Just cut to the chase, where is Zamborini?"

"Kites, kites, kites flying across the blue sky; heights, heights, heights falling so far that you die!"

"LISTEN TO ME, X, I'VE ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT I'M NOT GOING TO PLAY ANY OF YOUR GAMES!"

"My oh my, then you must not want to know where Zamborini is hiding, ahahaha!"

"No more jokes, we get this over with quickly or I can guarantee you that it won't be pretty!"

"OH NO, THE EVIL MAN IS GOING TO HURT ME, WHATEVER SHALL I DO!?"

"Please quiet down or we will have to put you back in solitary confinement."

"Quite an interesting threat, yet so empty considering that you need me more than I need you."

"Rob, get the tools, we'll make him wish that he were in solitary confinement."

"S-stop, no no nooo, ahh, that... t-th-that... TICKLES, AHAHAHAHA!"

"Turn it up, Rob, we'll see how ticklish he really is..."

"Understand, detective, I don't feel pain anymore, not like you do; I've already won just give up and play some more games!"

"Very funny, but I'm not going to give up until you tell me where Zamborini is hiding."

"Where IS Zamborini hiding?"

"X, I've had enough of your games, tell me where Zamborini is hiding or we will shoot you right now."

"You fool... Zamborini is in the room with us... right as we speak... Zamborini, please get me out of this silly building."

"Zamborini is in the room... what are you-- Rob... ROB, PUT DOWN THAT GU--"

Carousel

The music swirled, and the wheels turned. The figurines sprung and fell. The horse cantered, the crane soared, and the tiger prowled. The circles continued.
Popcorn littered the floor, and bubblegum clung to the steps.
The child clung to the neck of the monkey, who surveyed the world.
They all kept turning.
Or perhaps it was the world that spun.

Her watch

Only her watch kept beating.

The meeting

I saw a man approach the girl. His clothing resembled a ship after a storm. The hairs on his head shot in different directions. His body was like a pterodactyl's. The look on his face made it seem like he had a story to tell. The girl sat at a table on the edge of her chair. Her body language showed the excitement similar to a child on Christmas day but with a hint of fear. It was clear that she had awaited this meeting for a while. She looked like she had just stepped out of a magazine by the way she was dressed. I thought to myself "What on earth could these two people have in common?"

How deep is your love

What is love? There are many thoughts. It comes like a sea. Wave after wave, it takes over. No way to leave. A sense like no other. You may want to be free from such a thing. As time goes on, you see the good. You feel the warmth. You have no time to think. You never want to leave your other piece. After all the happy times. After all the bad. After you pour out all that you have for him, he leaves. What is love? How did it get this way?

Boy with Bat is Bad

Once upon a time there was a boy who was mean. He hit guys and girls with his bat. One day he got home from school and got beat up with a bat. He ran home and cried to his mom. His mom found out that he hit guys and girls and that was why he got beat and cried like so. Then she went to his room and yelled at him and he cried some more. From then on he was a nice boy and he did not act mean and hit guys and girls with his bat ever again.

ABC- knit with me

Adam is a boy. Boys are crazy. Crazy boys do daring things. Doing daring things leads to failure. Everyone fails at times in many different ways. Falling is an act of failure. Guys that do daring things tend to fall often. Hereafter their daring failures, they get hurt. I believe it's not worth it to do these things. Just stick to a less painful activity. Knitting isn't painful. Leave physical things behind you. Many people enjoy knitting. New creations can be made while knitting. Only patient people knit though. Patience is necessary to knit. Quilts can be knit, it works nicely. Realizing you need patience is a big step to becoming a great knitter. Some people can't knit because they have no skill. Time and time again I try to help, but sometimes they can't be helped. Understanding the patterns will help you succeed. Very few people understand these patterns. While these patterns are kind of hard, they can become easy with practice. Xylophones are a good, relaxing instrument to listen to while knitting because it calms you down. You'll need to be calm when knitting so you can work to the best of your abilities. Zesty knitting abilities will come soon to you if you follow these instructions(:

Just another Monday

As the sun climbed slowly into the sky, people began to wake up and go about their daily activities. Birds were singing as people left their houses for work. Cars were everywhere as people attempted to make their way to their job. Dawn soon gave way to midday as the sun reached its peak. Everyone who was out working began to stop for lunch. Fridges in offices everywhere were opened and closed as people took out their lunch. Garbage cans began to overflow as everyone finished their lunch and threw away their trash. Hours continued to pass by as the day went on. In the afternoon, people slowly begin making their way home after a tiring day of work. Jumping from stop to stop the subway shuttled people home. Kids drag their feet as they make their way home from another boring day of school. Lower and lower the sun sinks into the sky as the day comes closer to its end. Monday is coming to a close. No one is happy about this because this means that there are still another 4 days left until the weekend. Outside of our atmosphere the moon is shining brightly as the night continues on. People who enjoy watching the moon are still outside enjoying themselves. Questions are asked everywhere by children as they are sent to bed by their parents, they want to know why they have to go to bed. "Rest is necessary for your busy day tomorrow." Says the parents to their children. The parents then go into another room in their homes so that they can enjoy sometime together without worrying about their children. Under the bright moon some of these parents sit along with many others around the world. Various countries are all experiencing the moon in its fullest. While the moon is at its peak, the other side of the world is experiencing the sun at its fullest. X-ray stars are twinkling everywhere on the moonlit side of the earth. "Ya'll should go to bed" says some parents to their children they allowed to stay up to watch the moon and stars. Zachary (who is one of the kids who just got sent to bed) goes inside without arguing and climbs into bed so that he will be well rested for his busy day of school the next day.

I do not know what I wrote about

I will now begin to write a short blog post while only using words that have one clap to them (you know, like we used to do in school). I am not sure what to write about, but here goes. Once upon a time there was a boy named Garen who meant a girl named Ashe. Wait, no - that is just weird. Okay try two. The day I died was the best and worst day of my life. There. That is much better. Phew. That was rough.

Can you guess where I want to be right now?...

As I watch the sun shine over the blue waves, I smile as I think that this world is so full of joy. I watch kids as they play in the sand, and birds as they soar past the clouds high up in the sky. It is these small things that show us that life is full of good. We do not know how long we will live, or even what we must face come the next day, all we know is that right now, life is here and life is full. By the sea, there are no cares, there are no fears, but there is peace and joy and I am full of thanks to see such things.

Morning/Afternoon Distractions and Struggles

I hear the birds chirping and singing to eachother from my kitchen. I can see the wind bending the trees and knocking off any leaves that remain on the tree. There is a tree that has a branch that has started to tap on my window. The branch's tapping is accompanied by the wind and the birds that were chirping to create a melody. As I listen to the sounds, sunlight stretches from the position it has in the morning to the position obtains in the afternoon and it creates a bar of light elongated across my keyboard. I continue typing until the light ventures into my eyes and I'm forced to turn from it. I move my keyboard away from the light and onto a table in the office where the light won't interfere with me writing this story. As I am finishing this story the scent of a pizza fills the air. Oh thats right, I put a pizza in the oven when I started working on Literature. I'm done with this story and I'm going to eat.

Writing With Rules

I've greatly enjoyed the last two weeks' creative writing blog posts. For today, I'd like to think about how writing rules or even artificial guidelines can actually be freeing. Think about a sonnet: the highest form of poetry, or perhaps second only to the epic. When you write one, you don't have to decide how many lines your poem will have, or how many syllables you'll use in each line. You can choose between a couple of rhyme schemes and stanza patterns. In spite of these restrictions, poets have tremendous freedom to work within the confines.

For today, choose one of the following exercises.

1. Write a paragraph using all one-syllable words. Your paragraph should be coherent and meaningful: carefully choose monosyllabic words that will convey your meaning.

Consider these lines from Robert Frost: "Home is the place where/when you have to go there/they have to take you in." It's evocative and nostalgic and maybe melancholy, and all the words have one syllable.

2. Write 26-sentence short story, starting with a sentence that begins with an "A" and going through the alphabet and ending with a sentence that starts with the letter "Z."

3. Describe a place or a person using no adjectives or adverbs other than articles (a, an, the). Can you convey the essence of the person or place without descriptive modifiers?

Captain?

"Passengers, this isn't your captain speaking."

we're not real...?

then we realized.... we're all Sims.

Power

I came, I saw, I conquered.

Has Science Gone Too Far????

"Crap!" he whispered as the banana grew.

Car Wreck

Clown car crashes, 587 passengers dead.

Finally

And at last, he stood victorious.

Love!

I don't love anybody, said nobody.

Should have studied...

"Wait, we have a test Today?"

No One Knew

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Beep. Boom.

The Problem

I'm too lazy; I can't write.

Used Parachute for Sale

Never opened, one small red stain

Based on a true story

Painfully changed she "is" to "was"

6 Words Worth a Thousand

She never looked back, not once.

Read and Find Out

"What Happened!?!"
"Read and find out."

The Phone Call

"Wrong Number," says a familiar voice.

Ceiling Fan

but then my ceiling fan fell.

Don't Text and Drive

Paramedics finished her text, "...Love You."

Words

Fish can swim in the ocean.

LOL

"Well, that didn't go as expected."

Ice skating or nah

"Whoa! Great idea!" Then, she slipped.

Six Word Stories

Ernest Hemingway is credited with writing the shortest, saddest story of all time:

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.


Why is that a story? It has conflict. What is the conflict? Well, that depends on where you fall on the sentimental/cynical continuum.

Many people read it as the story of hopes shattered: maybe a woman bought baby shoes in anticipation of having a baby but was never able to. Or even worse: maybe those shoes were a gift to a baby who didn't survive. Whatever the case, the owner of the shoes can't bear to possess them anymore but doesn't want to throw them away. Maybe it gives her peace to think that some other baby will be able to wear them.

Come to think of it, don't we all have tangible objects that are reminders of dashed hopes and dreams? That baseball bat we used until we didn't make the team. Those dried flowers that were a gift from a date. Paints and brushes we bought, hoping to express ourselves artistically until we realized how untalented we are. Now those items sit on a shelf or in a corner, mocking our insufficiency. Why are we hanging on to them?

I'd say that's a fair amount to get from a six word story. But the more cynical among us might say that sounds like an ad on a Facebook yard sale group; maybe the shoes were a duplicate gift and the seller just wants to get top price for them. It's still a story--there is a still a conflict--but it's not a rich one.

For today, write a six word story. It should have an (implied) conflict and should be narratively rich enough to provoke thought. After you write your story, comment on two stories of others, suggesting the story behind the six words as you understand it. In the comments, you can explain your thoughts about your story after a few people have tried to explicate it.

Here is my six word story:

He leaped. "No! Changed my mind!"

In Response to Harris

It started to rain so we decided to take a break for the night at the cave. I was so tired but couldn't sleep. I couldn't see anything and the thought of having something I couldn't see around us that could kill us, scared me. While thinking these scary things, I thought I kept hearing noises coming from deep in the cave. I decided starting a fire would be the best idea to help ease my mind, so I felt around for two rocks. Eventually I got the fire going and kept it going with the sticks that were laying around in the cave. I sat there, thinking about where we were going to go from here to get out of the jungle in the morning, when I heard a scream coming from the back of the cave...

In response to Josh

Time. Time. Time. I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at those numbers on the clock. I had slept. I had done it. I turned toward the pill bottle, smiling in happiness, but something was wrong. There were no pills left.

I picked up the bottle, looking at it. I looked at it from underneath. I looked down at it. From the left. From the right. I looked and looked and looked, fighting the rage that was filling me. Rage at the terror that felt like a knife coursing through my head.

There were no. pills. left.

It was then I heard something, a voice that was faint and fuzzy. I was staring at that pill bottle, tears welling in my eyes when I looked up suddenly.

For the first time since I could remember, I heard something. It wasn’t like the torturous noises I had heard all throughout my dreams, throughout the past days. It sounded real.

”It was too much. The new drug, it was too much for her system.”

The room in front of me blacked out for a second, replaced with darkness. I shook my head, clawing at my eyes. It did it again, and again, and Again.

Finally, the room in front of me vanished all together. I opened my eyes slowly, staring up.

At first I thought I was going blind. All I saw was white. Bright, bright white. Then I realized I was in a room. The walls were white. The ceiling, white. Even the labcoats of the two people standing in front of me.

I recognized the voice of one of them. It was the voice of Doctor brown. But the man was not doctor brown.

I looked at where I saw, on a small chair. No chains bound my hands like in my dream. It was simply Velcro. Velcro that held me down as I screamed in panic.

My eyes swum with tears, blinding with the light from those glaring lights above me.

The tears clouded my vision, so that all I heard was the familiar voice of the man who was not Doctor Brown.

“We’ll have to bring her down off it. Then we can try the next drug.”

In response to Josh

Time. Time. Time. I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at those numbers on the clock. I had slept. I had done it. I turned toward the pill bottle, smiling in happiness, but something was wrong. There were no pills left.

I picked up the bottle, looking at it. I looked at it from underneath. I looked down at it. From the left. From the right. I looked and looked and looked, fighting the rage that was filling me. Rage at the terror that felt like a knife coursing through my head.

There were no. pills. left.

It was then I heard something, a voice that was faint and fuzzy. I was staring at that pill bottle, tears welling in my eyes when I looked up suddenly.

For the first time since I could remember, I heard something. It wasn’t like the torturous noises I had heard all throughout my dreams, throughout the past days. It sounded real.

”It was too much. The new drug, it was too much for her system.”

The room in front of me blacked out for a second, replaced with darkness. I shook my head, clawing at my eyes. It did it again, and again, and Again.

Finally, the room in front of me vanished all together. I opened my eyes slowly, staring up.

At first I thought I was going blind. All I saw was white. Bright, bright white. Then I realized I was in a room. The walls were white. The ceiling, white. Even the labcoats of the two people standing in front of me.

I recognized the voice of one of them. It was the voice of Doctor brown. But the man was not doctor brown.

I looked at where I saw, on a small chair. No chains bound my hands like in my dream. It was simply Velcro. Velcro that held me down as I screamed in panic.

My eyes swum with tears, blinding with the light from those glaring lights above me.

The tears clouded my vision, so that all I heard was the familiar voice of the man who was not Doctor Brown.

“We’ll have to bring her down off it. Then we can try the next drug.”