Tag Archives: games

The Perfectly Crazy Bucket List!

Game 2 – Season 1

Not Just My Verse, Your Two Two Too! Created by Rory of A Guy Called Bloke and K9 Doodlepip!

Welcome to ….

Not Just My Verse, Your Two Two Too!

Rory sez…

I will choose a topic, write four lines of Rhyming Verse then l will tag one of my readers who will in turn add four lines of Rhyming Verse to my mine and Tag one of their own readers, and then it is a case of wash rinse repeat and let’s see how far our topic goes in so far as a Rhyme?

Once the poem [Verse] leaves my blog, the next blogger along can take it where ever they want with regards their own four line verse but always staying on topic.

Got it?

The day is as long, as the night is young,
Four more lines of verse, to make another rhyme,
What topic shall we do to have some fun..
This time?

THE PERFECTLY CRAZY BUCKET LIST

So, so much to do, and with so little time,

I want to do everything, nothing to be missed,

But how do l plan it all, how do l define,

The perfectly crazy bucket list?

[Paula chimes in]

First up is a lush tropical jungle,

Jaguars and waterfalls… all quite insane;

I do hope my parachute isn’t all bungled,

When I jump from the doorway of this airplane!

[over to… Fandango!]

April Sharers

Questions from Melanie…

1. What does a successful relationship look like to you?

Kind, loyal, supportive, affectionate, good-humored, self-contained at least some of the time if we’re talking about a romantic relationship (as opposed to the need to constantly involve other people because the two primaries don’t actually get along all that well and/or don’t have enough in common).

2. If you could turn any activity into an Olympic sport, what would you have a good chance at winning medal for?

Word search puzzles.

3. What do you wish you knew more about?

Hard science, especially physics.

4. What is better in your opinion – asking for forgiveness or permission?

Depends who we’re talking about. With my kids and their husbands, permission. I’d never intentionally transgress family boundaries. With other people, meh.

GRATITUDE QUESTION

What’s the best thing about your life right now?

My children, always. 💖💖💖💖💖

“I caught a fish … it was THIS big?!” [flash 300]

As some of you know, I have family in Ohio I’ve fallen out of touch with. But when I was a little kid, my mom took me to visit occasionally. We’d go during summer vacation and stay in a Howard Johnson for a couple days. Her family was super small town, and even she was no longer used to their ways.

Once, on a boiling hot day, my cousins were going fishing in the creek (the “crick”) and asked me to come along. I was 8, and my mom said okay. I had never fished, so they baited my hook. I was excited! Me, a little girl from New York City, fishing in a creek!

My cousins kept catching fish, but I didn’t. It made me sad. They showed me ways to move my pole a bit and where to stand to attract a fishie. Finally, I felt a tug on my line. Yay! I called out for help and they told me how to reel my catch in.

It felt heavy. I was elated. My first fish! There were no cell phones back then, but I was already imagining taking a polaroid pic at the house and showing off to my friends back in the city.

But then I saw my fish, which didn’t look like any fish I’d ever seen. “Ewww!” I screamed. “It’s a monster!”

I dropped my fishing pole and one of my cousins grabbed it. They both cracked up laughing. “It’s just a catfish! They’re delicious!”

“Gross!” I yelled, running back to the house.

My grandma fried up all the fish that night for dinner. I just had salads and dessert. My cousins told the folks that I’d caught the biggest catfish ever to come out of that muddy little creek as everyone ate. Yuck!

~*~

This fish tale is in response to Rory’s challenge. Please note in the comments on how believable you consider the story to be, on a “scale” of 1-10, with 10 being most believable.

D’oh! [SOCS]

(Sing to “Do Re Mi” 🎶)

D’oh, my dear,

Don’t eat raw dough–

You might get poisoned,

Don’t you know?

Eggs are bad;

New studies just came in–

Toss them all into the bin!

So, about that pyramid?

We’ll keep it for the TV show;

I win, I’m going off the grid…

And that brings us back to dough!

The Night Out [multiverse]

Barbara has tagged me to participate in a group poetry game, in which she was tagged by Sadje, who was tagged by Rory, the initiator.

Welcome to ….

Not Just My Verse, Your Two Two Too!

A new ‘Tag You’ game in trial!
I will choose a topic, write four lines of Rhyming Verse then l will tag one of my readers who will in turn add four lines of Rhyming Verse to my mine and Tag one of their own readers, and then it is a case of wash rinse repeat and let’s see how far our topic goes in so far as a Rhyme?

Once the poem [Verse] leaves my (Rory’s) blog, the next blogger along can take it where ever they want with regards their own four line verse but always staying on topic.

Got it?

Topic

The Night Out!

Rory’s bit:

Quite excited l am, seriously,
Not often that my friends and l go out,
For a night on the town so mysteriously,
To have a laugh and a fool about!

Sadje’s bit

Though we have plans to go to town
But it is pouring down by buckets
We may go to see the circus and the clown
Let’s start the evening by first buying the tickets

Barbara’s bit

Oh what a shame, they’re all sold out
Whatever will we do now,
I know, we’ll all go down the pub,
Have a pint and some decent chow…………..

My bit

But I hear an unearthly sound
Along with fiendish laughter and howls;
I would prefer to turn back around–
It’s two for one monsters’ night out!

Over to Tao-Talk!

Once Upon A Blog Crime ~ Game 4

A Guy Called Bloke aka Chief Rory alerted me to some nefarious shenanigans happening in our otherwise peaceful neighborhood. It is my sworn and solemn duty as Inspector Light (my secret identity) to investigate any such disruptions to our smooth and graceful waves of daily (and nightly) postings.

Chief R informed me that unfortunately we only had the skimpiest bits of clues at this time, but I must needs make haste to find out why things were awry, askew, crooked, and cattywampus. Naturally, in order to discover why things were cattywampus, I had to bring my partner, Mr. Gatsby. 😾

My report to Chief R:

Our first stop is at Ribana of Popsicle Society, and Mr. G commences examining the popsicle sticks on the living room table. I discover with my amazing powers of investigation (aka reading the “about” section) that Ribana is from Romania, and therefore already suspect as a vampire. I immediately search for a coffin, which I do find in the bedroom, but Ribana is not in it. Who is?

It’s Jay-lin! But wait. Everything here is not what it seems, my sharpened instincts from years on dating sites tell me. Swiftly, I whip out a mirror and hold it up to Jay-lin’s pretty face. Aha! No reflection. Ribana must have turned her into a vampire too.

I check my reflection in the compact and put on some lipstick because you never know when you might “cute meet” your dream man, and as I’m doing this Mr. G meows from the kitchen. I rush in there to find Sadje making a nice healthy lunch. Or she was making lunch, but now Sadje is collapsed on the floor with lettuce and tomatoes and mushrooms all over her. Mr. G is swatting the mushrooms under the refrigerator.

“Stop that!” I scold him. “Those are evidence.”

He doesn’t listen though; he never does. I try to move the refrigerator to collect the mushrooms for my evidence bag, but it’s too heavy, which makes me suspicious. I open the refrigerator door, and there, there in the refrigerator, is the cold corpse of none other than our very own…

Lisa of All About Life! (But sadly, not now.)

Well, Chief, I know a dead body when I see one, especially with a set of bite wounds in her neck, and Lisa is definitely dead. It occurs to me at that point to check if Sadje is dead too, thank my stellar reflexes again, since she’s just about to stab me with a steak knife. Quickly, I overpower her and secure her wrists behind her back with the zip ties in my purse.

“Why were you on the floor?” I ask.

“Low blood sugar,” she says. “Fainted.”

Now I remember that Richa of iScriblr is a ghost writer, and I run up the narrow staircase to the attic to find Richa indeed writing Ribana’s vampire life story as Ribana dictates it while Richa floats around in the air with her laptop. Jay-lin is awake and with them now too, hissing at me when she sees me in the doorway.

So, Chief, we now have all the questions properly answered:

Who is the victim? Lisa

Who is the murderer? Jay-lin

Who is the location? Ribana

Who is the murder weapon? Sadje

Who is the motive? Richa

Jay-lin, a vampire agent, reps vampires to publishers who sell first-person vampire stories. Jay-lin discovered that Ribana is a vampire and got her a big advance. She hired Richa, an actual ghost writer, to write the story that Ribana dictated. Sadje stayed downstairs as a housekeeper. When Lisa, another writer, came over looking for Richa because she wanted to hire her for a project, she asked too many questions and Sadje became upset. Lisa wouldn’t leave, so Sadje hit her over the head with a cutting board. Jay-lin arose from her coffin and finished the job with a bite to the neck, which also was dinner, conveniently. 😺

~*~

I hope everyone had fun with my story and no one took offense. 💖

A New You — Finish the Story Challenge

This challenge was started by Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith and then passed to Rory, A Guy Called Bloke. Rory passed the challenge on to Kristian, who passed it to me. [Note: I edited this paragraph to apply to me after Rory reblogged my post and noted that I’d kept Kristian’s wording.]

Here is Rory’s post:

Finish The Story 2019 – #8

and here is Teresa’s original post:

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/03/13/finish-the-story-2019-8/

store-984393_1920

Finish The Story 2019 – #8

Tailoring A New You

The small shop sat on the corner of Houston and Parker for more than a century. Any piece of clothing a person ever needed could be found there. They even sold hand stitched underwear. The Frederickson family owned the shop from the day it opened, and everyone loved the family.
It wasn’t just the customer service, low prices, and great quality that brought customers back for generations – it was the other things the Fredericksons offered. They say a new pair of clothes can change a person, and at A New You, they meant it. One had to be careful when requesting a custom suit – you didn’t want to get your specifications wrong. Why, even one misplaced check mark could have dire consequences on a person’s future.
Take Emilio for example, he …
***
Part 2 – Rory from A Guy Called Bloke

Take Emilio for example, he … had listened to his Father Fausto for years, since indeed when he had been kneehigh to a grasshopper crediting and hailing the Fredericksons or as his Father pronounced it the Frederickshons for their exquisitery and finery in being able to produce something absolutely remarkable from sometimes the most staidest of cloth and if not that then there was this magical element to the garments, you didn’t just wear the suit, the suit wore you!
Fausto, had been a young man when he had first ventured into the German tailors at the bequest of his own Father Gregorio, Emilio’s Grandfather only armed with the words – ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover Fausto, this family are from a long line of magickal tailors. They enthuse the garments with not just love and beauty, nor experience and wisdom but if l didn’t know better, l would say with their very souls and blood, indeed it is almost like wearing another person’s skin, but in suit form. For the best suit anywhere in this world, this is the only place to be”
“The moment you slip inside the fabric, it’s almost like you are a different person. My last bit of advice is you must know what you and who you want and where you want to be in life? Then the master tailor Gunther he will make you a masterpiece of craftsmanship. There will never be anything like it ever again, it will be your one and only suit from the time you start your professional life to the day you stop working, then you MUST take off that suit and return it to the family of the Frederickshons, so that they can destroy it, do you understand what l am saying to Fausto?”
“I think so Father, yes.” Fausto answered rather confusedly.
When Fausto had gone to the family tailors he had been made a suit so fine, so fitting that he never needed another suit ever again in his life, he had wanted to be rich and successful and within a very short time Fausto had become one of the cities most sought out grocers. No one had fruits or vegetables of the quality that Fausto had. No one could ever outsell him, outbid him, outsmart or outfool him. After 50 years he had built up an empire of grocery stalls that was the best in all of the Americas! Fausto had wanted his favourite and only Son Emilio to take on the family business, but Emilio needed his own power suit, his own successful three-piece so he could follow in his Father’s footsteps ………
.….except Fausto hadn’t actually asked his Son what and if he wanted to follow in his Father’s shadow, or if he wanted to lead his own life?
Of course the truth had he been asked was indeed different – Emilio wanted his Sister Alessandra to take on her Father’s business. His Sister had always been keenly astute on that side of the business, she was very taken with fruits and vegetables and herbs, she was a fabulous cook, who knew all the right ingredients to make each dish spectacular – she was in her own rights their families best chef! You see Emilio, well he had other interests, and they didn’t involve cucumbers, broccoli or marrows – he used to play with bananas and pretend they were guns …. and even more recently he had made friends with Alphonse who had even bigger dreams. Alphonse had at one time been a Five Points Gang member and was shrewd, he was also closely associated with the notorious Johnny Torrio. Alphonse himself was a right ‘snorky’, and also used the Frederickshons for his own suits, but he had many made and needed more than one, for his many shades of personality and success. Snorky was the terms for ‘sharp dresser’ and Emilio wanted to be like Alphonse too!
The year was 1923, the location was Chicago and Emilio and Alphonse walked into the Frederickshons Tailors where Gunther upon seeing them, greeting them both, “Emilio, your Papa Fausto said you would be stopping by with your new friend, but l never knew, this was the type of suit you wanted!” Turning to Alphonse, “Mr Capone it is so good to see you again, a new suit is it?”
” Gunther, not at all, l want you to outfit my new boy here, Emilio, tell the man what you want?”
Emilio, smiled a big proud toothy grin and said …..

Part 3 – Kristian’s Addition

“I want to look drop dead gorgeous” Emilio said. He liked the ladies, but so far in his life, they seemed to realise he was a low life scumbag who liked gangs and violence and so stayed well away.

Unfortunately the Magical Tailor, Gunther, was become a trifle deaf. He was coming up to two hundred years old and was way past retirement age. Being slightly deaf, he failed to hear Emilio’s last word. You would have thought that it would have occurred to him that Emilio’s request was rather strange and therefore he must have misheard, but senility was creeping in, so he crafted the suit according to the very request he had heard.

Within a week of wearing it, Emilio had dropped dead.

The consequences of Gunther’s auditory and mental deterioration were even more drastically displayed when poor Tristram Van De Gould went in for a fitting.

He asked for a waistcoat that would make him appear slimmer, what he ended up with was a straightjacket that prevented him from eating at all. He died of an emptystomach.

If you thought things couldn’t get any worse, you were wrong because next……..

 

Part 4 ~ Paula’s Part

The taxicab stopped in front of the shop and a disparate group of Americans piled out. “Hey!” yelled the driver. “Someone needs to pay me!”

“Someone pay the poor guy, for Pete’s sake,” Bernie said. “What’s the matter with you people?” And he walked into the shop, bumping his head on the door. “Owww.”

“I’d love to pay him,” Kamala said, “but I gave all my money to that sweet little girl at the airport who said she was homeless.” She went into the shop too. Amy and Beto and Liz ran after her. “Wait for us!” they shouted.

Joe rolled his eyes. “Geez, I’ll pay him. I always get stuck with the check when I go out with those guys,” he said to the cabbie. “It’s just the weirdest thing!”

“I sympathize, buddy,” the cabbie said. “My in-laws are exactly the same. Have fun shopping.”

Trailing after the others into the shop, Joe found them already arguing with the suit maker, who was nearly deaf, apparently. Everyone was yelling. “CALM DOWN!” Joe shouted.

“I was here first,” Bernie insisted. “I should get to order my suit first.”

“Fine.” Amy plopped down in a chair. “I’ll just sit here and have some of their free juice. Can I drink it out of one of these shoes, Gunther?”

The ancient tailor heard his name and turned in her direction. “Ehh, no one here named Sue, honey. We have a Lucy, but she’s off today.”

“‘Scuse me!” Beto said. “But we don’t call women honey anymore. I got in trouble for making some jokes earlier, so now I intend to be an annoying sourpuss wherever I go. I think my suit should reflect my new personality of a serious man who has meditated deeply upon–”

Bernie waggled a finger in his face. “MY TURN MY TURN MY TURN!”

“Ahem,” Kamala said. “This is a perfect example of why we need a woman in charge. Men just feel so entitled to everything. It’s definitely time for women to show how things can be done in a more orderly and peaceful manner.”

“You hussy!” Liz cried. “You winked at my husband at the rally last month.”

“What are you talking about?” Kamala said. “Have you gone off the reservation again?”

“LOL!” Amy laughed, coughing on her shoe juice.

Beto tried so hard not to laugh he waved his arms around madly and knocked over a rack of ties. Joe picked them all up.

Liz showed Kamala a video on her phone. “See? There you are winking at my sweetie.”

“I was crying,” Kamala told her. “I have hay fever. I had to take a Benadryl.”

Gunther hobbled over and said, “Alrighty then, dearies. Who’s next? I’ve measured the men.”

Kamala went next. Liz said to Amy, “I don’t even know why we’re here. It seems so silly, but I didn’t want to be at a disadvantage when you all said you were getting these special suits made.”

“I know, right?” Amy shrugged. “They’re supposed to be magical, or something.”

“Hillary had a suit made here,” Joe said. “But then she didn’t wear it. I’m not sure why. I’d ask her, but she won’t talk to me anymore. Who can even understand women, am I right?”

They just glared at him. “Oopsy,” Beto said. “Uncle Joe needs to go for retraining. Perhaps some yoga.”

“What?” Joe looked around, bewildered. “What did I do?”

“This shop needs to unionize,” Bernie announced. “Who’s with me on that?”

Liz frowned. “I don’t see any employees, Bern. Plus, it’s another country. They don’t need your help.”

“Everyone needs my help!” Bernie waggled his finger at her.

Gunther finished up with Liz and Kamala, and now all six Americans had been measured and fitted for their custom suits. They had told Gunther exactly what their hopes were for the coming year and he would take that into account when designing their apparel. He tallied up the final bill and brought it back out to the front.

“All the suits should be ready in three weeks,” he said to the group. “I can have them air mailed for an additional fee, since I know everyone has to zip back across the pond to his and her busy lives. Now did you want separate cheques?”

Everyone looked at Joe. He sighed and took out his Amex. “No, I’ll put it on my card for the travel points. We’ll settle up later.”

“Thanks, Joe!” everyone said. “You’re the best! We’ll PayPal you!”

The suits did arrive three weeks later, as promised. But…

 

And here I pass the story on to….

Fandango, of course!

Rules–
Copy the story below as it appears when you receive it (and the rules please)
Add somehow to the story in which ever style and length you choose
Tag only 1 person
If you choose to not participate or finish the story, please comment/tag this post so that I know.

Laura’s Music Challenge

This week Laura has 3 new challenges…

1. Post a song by a band I think is underrated.

2. Post a song that gets on my nerves.

3. Post a song from a solo artist whose first name begins with K.

I Get Around

Here are a few photos for this week’s round theme

Opposites Attract: Challenge 1

When I was 14, I babysat for a sweet 5 year old girl whose mom was a super extrovert. She came over to our house to introduce herself, which is how we all met, and she jabbered on to my mom (somewhat social) for maybe 45 minutes. I was a bit surprised the first time I went to their home and met the dad, who was an introvert and barely said a word to me. And that’s how it went from then on: mom jabber, dad quiet. But they seemed happy, and the mom even joked about how they were opposites.

Not all introverts are quiet though. I’m not. I’m a gregarious introvert ~ with a catch. I dislike big crowds. If it’s a choice between a crowd and staying home, I’ll choose being reclusive. This can lead people to believe I’m antisocial, but I’m not; I simply enjoy smallish groups of 4-10 people, especially if we’re going to play board games. And if I’m comfortable with someone, I’ll talk a lot! Sometimes too much. I have no problem sharing with peeps. But a huge crowd? Ugh. I feel like my head is about to implode, and I just want to go home.

When I dated, I couldn’t stand quiet guys. They drove me nuts! There was nothing worse than a man who expected me to ask him questions like Lt. Columbo, or else he’d just sit there like a lump. Bleh! I like people who volunteer info without being tortured. Torture is so 2005.