Tell a story ~

Posted on Mar 13, 2009 in Blog | 6 comments

Hello out there!  It is early Thursday morning and I am searching the internet for something to do this weekend.  Last weekend Pat and I went out and had a terrible day in the city, we spent hundreds of dollars trying to make ourselves feel better, and it didn’t work.  To make the story short, Pat can’t tell Budweiser from Kirin Ichiban and my coffee addiction put us in the ghetto.   Yeah, it was a ridiculously miserable day, we even bought a “crazy local” a beer to try and cheer us up, but turns up he was a “crazy local” recovering alcoholic.  Better luck this weekend right?

Tell a story about the lone glove.

I took this picture of a wee glove a couple days ago.   What do you want the story behind the single glove to be?  Write a few sentences, a short story, a single word, a poem or what ever you would like!

wee glove

*edit* We have a story going on! Add your input, keep it going!

6 Comments

  1. The story starts here! Just read down through the comments to learn more.

    Ok, what you believe is a glove is not that at all. It belongs to me, it is pajamas my grandma knitted for me for cold winter nights. As you can guess I am a deformed mutant midget. I was born with 4 legs and one arm. My tragic life began when I was born on the south side of the getto in middle Kentucky. I am a product of inbreeding from a crack addicted mom who married her acoholic brother. My early days are a blurr but i remember being sent away to military base for testing.

    To be continued…………who wants to write the next chapter?

  2. At the military base, I only had my pajamas… but I acted tough saying it was expensive vintage denim and a yellow and white tube top.

    The tough guy mutant midget wearing a tube top did not impress anyone at the base. They started their testing… I remember tooth picks, a blinking purple light and the sound of a people chewing bubble gum.

    The aroma of strawberry bubblelicious was thick in the air… thick like when you put elmers glue in your hand and smear it around until it gets pasty.

  3. That's when I started to come around and realized it wasn't strawberry bubblelicious but it was pasty. The Pop Rocks smacking sound I was hearing was actually the trapped air bubbles curing in the primordial ooze. Much like bacteria cures and makes bubbles in swiss cheese. The Mengele scientists were using the primordial ooze to craft me a new body.

    The toothpicks were actually molded carbon-fiber bones that were being strapped to my own tiny appendages. Genetic engineers were having heated discussions on the tensile strength of my new subcutaneous frame and how safe the elongation process was.

    Slowly the body creation crew began applying the genetic morphing ooze with the speed and precision of a gang of runaway Machiladora factory workers making pinatas in their first capitalist venture. Slowly the sterile lab setting faded away as I began to black out from the pain from the morphing ooze as the body creation crew reconstructed my appendages. As I slowly sank into the black abyss of my fading consciousness, something stirred inside me and my thoughts drifted toward the blinking purple light.

    To be continued: Next

  4. – I awoke in a daze. A spectrum of colors were swirling before me; and, a sudden shock seemed to spread throughout my bones.

    "Wait, I have bones?" I asked myself.
    "Yes, you have bones."

    "Who are you?"
    "Hal."

    "Where am I?"
    "Open your eyes."

    Immediately the vivid spectrum of light disappeared. The crisp hues were now antiqued, reminiscent of a masterpiece stowed away nonchalantly in an attic.

    I begin to look around the room. "Hal?" I mutter halfheartedly, hoping for a response. No response; the only sound that enters the cavern of my mind is free-flowing water.

    "Sit up, it is time to start the show."
    "Hal? Is that you?"

    "Hello?"

    - to be continued? -

  5. *cough cough* uhummmm, *cough spits out some primordial ooze*

    "Hal?"

    .
    .
    .

    "H A L !"

  6. "Ahhh….I see you have regained consciousness. You seem confused so let me try to help. I am not HAL (Heuristicically influenced ALgorithm). I am his cousin DIM (Democratic Influenced Mind)#177,600,002,008. You can call me Dim for short. I am one of many."

    "DIM?"

    "Yes. DIM."

    "I don't understand."

    "That's o.k. You are a highly intelligent being with conservative principles bordering on a Libertarian philosophy. In your advanced state of mind you would never be able to understand DIM."

    "I still don't understand."

    "Well, the body creation crew discovered your mutant self-reliance genes during the morphing process and you have been detained to undergo decreation and remorphing to remove the contaminant. In 2010 it was decreed that the self-reliance gene was to be eradicated from society to prevent contamination of the DIM pool."

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