Writing.........share some?

[artist4perry]

Do any of you guys dabble in writing? I was thinking about making a children's book sometime with this in the preface of the book. What do you guys think? Also if you do poetry or short verse, share some!


When in gentle breeze the marmroth play,
And dilly dally all the day.
Tiz pleasent thoughts for kit and kin,
If you can rise above the din.
With laughter beezers romp and lolly,
...The river gnomes join in the folly.
When gentle souls before eyes appear,
Know Ginger Grahn is always near.

Poet and didn't know it..............by Ginger Grahn.

[Lula]

i chose the peachy option.

i used to do a lot of writing, called it creative non fiction . i have a book to write, but with a toddler it is tough. my undergrad is in creative writing and before going into teaching it was my number one passion. not a poet tho. i love writing short stories.

[artist4perry]

i chose the peachy option.

i used to do a lot of writing, called it creative non fiction . i have a book to write, but with a toddler it is tough. my undergrad is in creative writing and before going into teaching it was my number one passion. not a poet tho. i love writing short stories.

That is cool to know about you! Oh mom, your job with your son is most important. The time will come in your life to explore the things you like to do. I waited 19 years to do the things I like to do, for the same reason. Now my babies are young adults, I can explore my life and do all that I would like too.

[Lula]

lol, yeah to think i was someone . i wouldn't change a thing, i love my life with wyatt! i hear you about doing what you love and getting to explore. to me that is what life is all about. sounds like you are in a very good place.

[WalkInMyShoes]

Picked the 4th option - flowery verse does not compute in my mind - hard to read and definitely not something that I'd feel comfortable putting out there for all eternity. My eyes glaze over in meetings where people are talking about feelings too. Just the facts please...

[Rockindeano]

I write Ginger. In fact I am supposed to be finishing up a book of short but true stories of my bizarre life, but am a bit behind schedule. Laura* is pissed at me, as she is my 'agent' in this endeavor.

Here's one that will be in the book. I shared it before but about 3 years ago, so some here may have read it and some not. It is a true episode, and none of it is enhanced.

Liquid Soap Shuffle and Top Ramen Guy

Once, I was pissed at work. I was paint department manager at Lowe's, but I was torqued. I had this fuckin' Chinese guy who worked for me in the paint department and that fucker couldn't understand a single word of English. Anyway, a weekend day, and the store was busier than Grand Central. People in line for mixed paint and the line went out the fucking door down to the McDonald's down the street. Mr. Hiroshima was mixing yellow in when there should have been green and brown instead of black. I had customers coming back pissed off and I understood their plight. I entered into the fray, otherwise known as behind the counter, fixed some problems, put out some fires, and then said to Mr Rice o Roni, "dude, what in the hell is your problem? Can you not see the colours your mixing through those eyes?", and then did a sarcastic head bow, like they do before and after karate matches. - Totally racist, and insensitive. (That was the younger more angry Deano). He spazzed, and went to the HR office. I knew I was busted, so I took off, left two inexperienced people run the paint dept into the ground like W ran the Rangers into the Texas oilfields. I went to the shitter. I must say, Lowe's has clean Johns compared to the Home Depot. Anyway, I find the corner stall, and figure, that I am off in 45 minutes, and maybe, just maybe, I can sneak out of here and not be fired until I return in 2 days, or better yet, avoid a verbal beat down and keep my job; either way, not a good choice to be faced with. So, I had 45 minutes to "hide" and into the safety of the stall I went. Peering into the corner was a magazine, People and I fired it open. Britney, in her prime, right there, in a short silky sexy green outfit, perfectly sculpted legs, shaved legs and sexy shoes. I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass me by. [overhead on the PA: Dean please dial 811 or come to the paint booth please] Anyway, I reached down and checked my best little buddy's pulse and he was indeed awake. My hands had dried paint and shit on them, so he wasn't digging that. I felt the bathroom to be empty, so I grabbed an ass gasket, and popped up from the commode. I unhitched the door, and with my pants down at my ankles, shuffled all the way across to the soap dispenser and shot damn near the entire contents of the bottle onto the protective toilet cover and shuffled back, making it easily. I sat down, re latched the door, balanced the gasket on my left knee, and I was set......what the Hell? People are coming into the restroom. Not just one, but multiple people! It was clear that if I wanted to pay respect to Britney, I would have to have some patience. My God, I have changed planes faster than the guy who took a shit next to me! I can out wait anyone, but this guy was slower than a snail on Quaaludes. My God, finally, after about 20 minutes, he is wiping and I start laughing, because as he leaned to wipe, I ripped one, real bad one and he started gagging...Fuck you I thought, I have Britney to deal with yet. [Dean, please! come to the paint dept or dial 811!] Yeah, sure. Blow me.

Oh man, did I ever forget about the long line at the Paint Dept. This was a fantastic way to forget about work and responsibility. The liquid soap was a great product, and I finished on Britney, and closed the magazine up, so nobody could experience Britney in this certain Lowe's again, if you know what I mean. That magazine in effect, became 2 pages shorter. After wiping up, confidently strolling over to the sink and washing up, I glanced at my watch and guess what? Time to go. I laughed out loud as I walked by the paint booth. Those morons were having all kinds of problems and I could care less.

Meanwhile, I guess Mr Myagi did in fact go to Human Resources and complained but dude couldn't speak well enough English to bust me. I laughed out loud at that poor bastard. I got off the hook, because he couldn't adequately tell the bosses I was insensitive and used callous remarks...LOL. I wrote his squinty eyed ass up the very next week for incompetence, and deliberately poured wet paint on the inside of his apron so that when he put it on, it destroyed his collared shirt, but he didn't know it it until he went to leave! Genius!! I later got fired for openly commentating on some co workers fine ass. The person who busted me was an undercover Lowe's secret shopper. Who gives a shit, it was a fun time.

[Everett]

I used to write a lot of stuff when i was younger. Just a phase i guess.

[bluejeangirl76]

I chose the peachy option... but I do write.

You can tell by how wordy I get around here sometimes.

Most of my writing is dicated by my mood and/or what's going on with me or around me at the time. I tend to start writing when I'm overloaded because it's how I get things out when there's just too much happening or too much feeling. Sometimes it comes out as fiction and other times it comes out as narratives... it varies. I have so many email drafts, it's not funny. I'll get a random idea, or maybe I'll get upset with someone... so I start an email draft with a blank recipient and just let it out, whatever it is. Some of them have inspired other things, some of them are just rants, or things I wish I could say to someone but I know I can't (I have a LOT of those...lol!!)... sometimes it's ideas for other things that I have to save before I forget them.

I have one thing from about 3-4 years ago that was meant to be a short story and turned into what would equal the length of a book, and then there was a sequel (which still stands unfinished). Problem is, I could never ever do anything with it or share it without changing the entire initial subject matter, but the sequel ended up getting pretty good once I ran with it, so it might almost be worth scrapping the idea and reinventing it just to keep the stuff in the sequel. A small number of people who have read my writing though, have told me I should be doing it more and sharing it more, even doing it professionally (I don't really know about THAT but it's a nice compliment). I don't know. I wish I was confident enough to do that.

I have a hard time with fiction because while I try to go out of my circle, I end up basing too much on my own life and my own experiences, which is kind of what you do, you know - "write what you know" - and it's hard for me because if I can't separate, then really personal stuff starts coming out. That's not always bad, but... sometimes it is.

If I ever ran with my current idea... wow. All those email drafts should really go to some kind of use, but I'm not sure I could do it without totally cracking up... LOL... I shouldn't laugh, it's not funny - I've read things like this before, about writers, and I totally get it. It can bring you into some pretty bad mind trips and really scary emotional places.. Didn't someone mention that in the book thread, about Stephen King? I forget what book it was, but he had some kind of thing about having to walk away from writing one of them because it was too much?

A little over a year and a half ago, I started another one - fiction - and I ran into a total dead end. The concept was pretty cool - it did two things at once, it simultaneously went back and forth between two time periods and two characters points of view. But I hit a wall and didn't know where to take it after a certain point.

Ahhh, maybe someday.

[Everett]

I write Ginger. In fact I am supposed to be finishing up a book of short but true stories of my bizarre life, but am a bit behind schedule. Laura* is pissed at me, as she is my 'agent' in this endeavor.

Here's one that will be in the book. I shared it before but about 3 years ago, so some here may have read it and some not. It is a true episode, and none of it is enhanced.

Liquid Soap Shuffle and Top Ramen Guy

Once, I was pissed at work. I was paint department manager at Lowe's, but I was torqued. I had this fuckin' Chinese guy who worked for me in the paint department and that fucker couldn't understand a single word of English. Anyway, a weekend day, and the store was busier than Grand Central. People in line for mixed paint and the line went out the fucking door down to the McDonald's down the street. Mr. Hiroshima was mixing yellow in when there should have been green and brown instead of black. I had customers coming back pissed off and I understood their plight. I entered into the fray, otherwise known as behind the counter, fixed some problems, put out some fires, and then said to Mr Rice o Roni, "dude, what in the hell is your problem? Can you not see the colours your mixing through those eyes?", and then did a sarcastic head bow, like they do before and after karate matches. - Totally racist, and insensitive. (That was the younger more angry Deano). He spazzed, and went to the HR office. I knew I was busted, so I took off, left two inexperienced people run the paint dept into the ground like W ran the Rangers into the Texas oilfields. I went to the shitter. I must say, Lowe's has clean Johns compared to the Home Depot. Anyway, I find the corner stall, and figure, that I am off in 45 minutes, and maybe, just maybe, I can sneak out of here and not be fired until I return in 2 days, or better yet, avoid a verbal beat down and keep my job; either way, not a good choice to be faced with. So, I had 45 minutes to "hide" and into the safety of the stall I went. Peering into the corner was a magazine, People and I fired it open. Britney, in her prime, right there, in a short silky sexy green outfit, perfectly sculpted legs, shaved and sexy shoes. I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass me by. [overhead on the PA: Dean please dial 811 or come to the paint booth please] Anyway, I reached down and checked my best little buddy's pulse and he was indeed awake. My hands had dried paint and shit on them, so he wasn't digging that. I felt the bathroom to be empty, so I grabbed an ass gasket, and popped up from the commode. I unhitched the door, and with my pants down at my ankles, shuffled all the way across to the soap dispenser and shot damn near the entire contents of the bottle onto the protective toilet cover and shuffled back, making it easily. I sat down, re latched the door, balanced the gasket on my left knee, and I was set......what the Hell? People are coming into the restroom. Not just one, but multiple people! It was clear that if I wanted to pay respect to Britney, I would have to have some patience. My God, I have changed planes faster than the guy who took a shit next to me! I can out wait anyone, but this guy was slower than a snail on Quaaludes. My God, finally, after about 20 minutes, he is wiping and I start laughing, because as he leaned to wipe, I ripped one, real bad one and he started gagging...Fuck you I thought, I have Britney to deal with yet. [Dean, please! come to the paint dept or dial 811!] Yeah, sure. Blow me.

Oh man, did I ever forget about the long line at the Paint Dept. This was a fantastic way to forget about work and responsibility. The liquid soap was a great product, and I finished on Britney, and closed the magazine up, so nobody could experience Britney in this certain Lowe's again, if you know what I mean. That magazine in effect, became 2 pages shorter. After wiping up, confidently strolling over to the sink and washing up, I glanced at my watch and guess what? Time to go. I laughed out loud as I walked by the paint booth. Those morons were having all kinds of problems and I could care less.

Meanwhile, I guess Mr Myagi did in fact go to Human Resources and complained but dude couldn't speak well enough English to bust me. I laughed out loud at that poor bastard. I got off the hook, because he couldn't adequately tell the bosses I was insensitive and used callous remarks...LOL. I wrote his squinty eyed ass up the very next week for incompetence, and deliberately poured wet paint on the inside of his apron so that when he put it on, it destroyed his collared shirt, but he didn't know it it until he went to leave! Genius!! I later got fired for openly commentating on some co workers fine ass. The person who busted me was an undercover Lowe's secret shopper. Who gives a shit, it was a fun time.

Great stuff deano, can't wait till this book comes out

[artist4perry]

Deano, I cannot wait to read it. I have to mow the lawn right now, but when I come in I will sit down and read your story.

[YoungJRNY]

I write Ginger. In fact I am supposed to be finishing up a book of short but true stories of my bizarre life, but am a bit behind schedule. Laura* is pissed at me, as she is my 'agent' in this endeavor.

Here's one that will be in the book. I shared it before but about 3 years ago, so some here may have read it and some not. It is a true episode, and none of it is enhanced.

Liquid Soap Shuffle and Top Ramen Guy

Once, I was pissed at work. I was paint department manager at Lowe's, but I was torqued. I had this fuckin' Chinese guy who worked for me in the paint department and that fucker couldn't understand a single word of English. Anyway, a weekend day, and the store was busier than Grand Central. People in line for mixed paint and the line went out the fucking door down to the McDonald's down the street. Mr. Hiroshima was mixing yellow in when there should have been green and brown instead of black. I had customers coming back pissed off and I understood their plight. I entered into the fray, otherwise known as behind the counter, fixed some problems, put out some fires, and then said to Mr Rice o Roni, "dude, what in the hell is your problem? Can you not see the colours your mixing through those eyes?", and then did a sarcastic head bow, like they do before and after karate matches. - Totally racist, and insensitive. (That was the younger more angry Deano). He spazzed, and went to the HR office. I knew I was busted, so I took off, left two inexperienced people run the paint dept into the ground like W ran the Rangers into the Texas oilfields. I went to the shitter. I must say, Lowe's has clean Johns compared to the Home Depot. Anyway, I find the corner stall, and figure, that I am off in 45 minutes, and maybe, just maybe, I can sneak out of here and not be fired until I return in 2 days, or better yet, avoid a verbal beat down and keep my job; either way, not a good choice to be faced with. So, I had 45 minutes to "hide" and into the safety of the stall I went. Peering into the corner was a magazine, People and I fired it open. Britney, in her prime, right there, in a short silky sexy green outfit, perfectly sculpted legs, shaved legs and sexy shoes. I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass me by. [overhead on the PA: Dean please dial 811 or come to the paint booth please] Anyway, I reached down and checked my best little buddy's pulse and he was indeed awake. My hands had dried paint and shit on them, so he wasn't digging that. I felt the bathroom to be empty, so I grabbed an ass gasket, and popped up from the commode. I unhitched the door, and with my pants down at my ankles, shuffled all the way across to the soap dispenser and shot damn near the entire contents of the bottle onto the protective toilet cover and shuffled back, making it easily. I sat down, re latched the door, balanced the gasket on my left knee, and I was set......what the Hell? People are coming into the restroom. Not just one, but multiple people! It was clear that if I wanted to pay respect to Britney, I would have to have some patience. My God, I have changed planes faster than the guy who took a shit next to me! I can out wait anyone, but this guy was slower than a snail on Quaaludes. My God, finally, after about 20 minutes, he is wiping and I start laughing, because as he leaned to wipe, I ripped one, real bad one and he started gagging...Fuck you I thought, I have Britney to deal with yet. [Dean, please! come to the paint dept or dial 811!] Yeah, sure. Blow me.

Oh man, did I ever forget about the long line at the Paint Dept. This was a fantastic way to forget about work and responsibility. The liquid soap was a great product, and I finished on Britney, and closed the magazine up, so nobody could experience Britney in this certain Lowe's again, if you know what I mean. That magazine in effect, became 2 pages shorter. After wiping up, confidently strolling over to the sink and washing up, I glanced at my watch and guess what? Time to go. I laughed out loud as I walked by the paint booth. Those morons were having all kinds of problems and I could care less.

Meanwhile, I guess Mr Myagi did in fact go to Human Resources and complained but dude couldn't speak well enough English to bust me. I laughed out loud at that poor bastard. I got off the hook, because he couldn't adequately tell the bosses I was insensitive and used callous remarks...LOL. I wrote his squinty eyed ass up the very next week for incompetence, and deliberately poured wet paint on the inside of his apron so that when he put it on, it destroyed his collared shirt, but he didn't know it it until he went to leave! Genius!! I later got fired for openly commentating on some co workers fine ass. The person who busted me was an undercover Lowe's secret shopper. Who gives a shit, it was a fun time.

Wow dude, that's some fucking story, funny doesn't give the entire story justice. That shit should be made into a movie, fuck a book with words. This needs to be seen in action.

I used to write frequently and made several advancements and qualified for many certificates in school as well as scoring high on things like the S.A.T in writing. I wrote my gf a poem not too long ago but haven't wrote anything in years. I was messing around, bored and for the hell of it, I entered a "Write your own ORIGINAL Superman plot." I wrote it up and it led in votes throughout the week on a CBR site.

Clark is actually born a human on Earth and inherits the last name Kent from Jordan and Lauren Kent, his dad being the son of Martha and Jonathan Kent of Kansas. Clark witnesses abuse from his dad to his mom and vows to be the best man he could ever become who will NOT tolerate violence. He is abandoned by his parents after their divorce, leaving Martha and Jonathan to raise him for better stability and upbringing.

After working countless hours for years on the family farm and following the death of his grandfather Jonathan Kent, Clark becomes a Smallville volunteer fire fighter, holding true of his dream of being the closest thing to a hero as possible. He eventually moves to Metropolis, the City of Tomorrow for a chance at a career of fighting fires and saving as many lives as possible.

He eventually saves the 'great' scientist Lex Luthor from a burning lab due to a chemical mis-calculation, saving Luthor's life.

Luthor, who was working on a project to create the perfect being, has finally found the right man for the job. Lex (being the genius he is) manipulates Clark into rewarding him by injecting him with a serum that Lex proclaims as "Kryptonite." This serum gives Kent a mixed bag of emotion and major memory loss. Overtime, Clark eventually gains strength of power and forms a skin to which seems to be indestructible.

With the new-found glory and seeing dollar signs, Luthor unveils to the public the invulnerable man, naming him "The Superman" who can bend steel in his bare hands who is more powerful than a locomotive.

Given the heart of Clark Kent, "Superman" uses these great strengths to his advantage and helps as many people as possible. Getting major press, esp from Luthor's longtime crush (news reporter Lois Lane from the Daily Planet ) Luthor is pushed back to the shadows and is forgotten about almost instantly. He realizes his creation has backfired and noone gives credit where credit is due, and that's Lex Luthor.

As time goes on and the more popular his "Superman" becomes, Luthor becomes more bitter and bitter and decides the only way to get back on top is to kill "Superman", his own creation. But how?

It's up to about 123 votes and still ontop of the voting board. It'll close at the end of next week for winners, pretty cool for bordem haha.

[conversationpc]

I write Ginger. In fact I am supposed to be finishing up a book of short but true stories of my bizarre life, but am a bit behind schedule. Laura* is pissed at me, as she is my 'agent' in this endeavor.

Here's one that will be in the book. I shared it before but about 3 years ago, so some here may have read it and some not. It is a true episode, and none of it is enhanced.

Liquid Soap Shuffle and Top Ramen Guy

Once, I was pissed at work...

Good work...Extra points for using the British spelling for "colours".

[Don]

Dear Dr. Dean,

After a life time of skinning the carrot, I have noticed a small (no pun intended ) problem. Despite being a lefty, I have always rode the rail with the right hand. Unfortunately that has caused my little soldier's shirt the to ride up on the starboard side quite a bit, and given him a most unsightly appearance.
Now, a few solutions present themselves, and here is where I need your advice.
Should I start shucking the cob with my left hand, even though the task may take up to 3O years to create a similar bunching up of the fabric?
OR
Should I take my little guy to a tailor and have them alter his suit a little bit, and henceforth resign myself to using pussy in a can, in lieu of my digits to maintain a nice, even balance of friction around my little fighter when he is charging the mound?

Thanks for any and all advice,
Bilbo and I shall await your response.

Don

[Deb]

I write Ginger. In fact I am supposed to be finishing up a book of short but true stories of my bizarre life, but am a bit behind schedule. Laura* is pissed at me, as she is my 'agent' in this endeavor.

Here's one that will be in the book. I shared it before but about 3 years ago, so some here may have read it and some not. It is a true episode, and none of it is enhanced.

Liquid Soap Shuffle and Top Ramen Guy

Once, I was pissed at work...

Good work...Extra points for using the British spelling for "colours".

LOL, well he is a Canadian. We also spell "humour" the right way too.

[Deb]

Dear Dr. Dean,

After a life time of skinning the carrot, I have noticed a small (no pun intended ) problem. Despite being a lefty, I have always rode the rail with the right hand. Unfortunately that has caused my little soldier's shirt the to ride up on the starboard side quite a bit, and given him a most unsightly appearance.
Now, a few solutions present themselves, and here is where I need your advice.
Should I start shucking the cob with my left hand, even though the task may take up to 3O years to create a similar bunching up of the fabric?
OR
Should I take my little guy to a tailor and have them alter his suit a little bit, and henceforth resign myself to using pussy in a can, in lieu of my digits to maintain a nice, even balance of friction around my little fighter when he is charging the mound?

Thanks for any and all advice,
Bilbo and I shall await your response.

Don

LMAO! Gawd we have some funny peeps here on MR.

[artist4perry]

Nice story Deano, very you, and yes, funny!

Youngjrny..........storylines take time for comics, but in short that was a good twist.

Kim, share a short story, please.

Don,................... I did not know this would turn into a Dear Deano/Dear Dr. Ruth column, but O.K. Whatever makes your "little soldier" more even.

[Don]

It's strange the things that pop into your mind when your working with Excel.

[conversationpc]

I write on my blog on a fairly regular basis. Leftists, please visit if you wish to be pissed off.

I typically write about politics and current events but, occasionally, I do some personal stuff and some comedy. Here's my favorite bit...

In Baghdad, a man identified as an Iraqi journalist tossed his shoes at President Bush earlier today. Bush was able to dodge the shoes. The man, Muntadhar al-Zaidi, was dragged away while saying “This is a farewell … you dog!” He currently remains in custody while the Iraqi judiciary decides whether or not he will face charges for assaulting Iraqi President al-Maliki, who was standing next to Bush.

In related news, the pitching-starved Baltimore Orioles have tendered a one-year offer to al-Zaidi on condition of his release. Terms of the deal were not disclosed but it is speculated that the Orioles may agree to trade one million euros (since the dollar has been devalued) and one thousand unused burkhas to the Iraqi government in exchange for al-Zaidi’s freedom. The Iraqi government is not commenting at this time but is rumored to be looking into a possible trade with Palestinian authorities on a Zaidi for suicide bomber exchange.

When asked about the possible deal with the Orioles, al-Zaidi commented that “I’m not sure about the Orioles but I am open to it since the American League is known as a junk-ball league, so it fits my style better.” Oriole officials are tight-lipped but Orioles owner, Peter Angelos, is considering a three-way deal with Iraq and the New York Yankees if they are willing to put George Steinbrenner on the chopping block.

Posted on 12/15/2008

From Dave's Dominion

[Rockindeano]

Dear Dr. Dean,

After a life time of skinning the carrot, I have noticed a small (no pun intended ) problem. Despite being a lefty, I have always rode the rail with the right hand. Unfortunately that has caused my little soldier's shirt the to ride up on the starboard side quite a bit, and given him a most unsightly appearance.
Now, a few solutions present themselves, and here is where I need your advice.
Should I start shucking the cob with my left hand, even though the task may take up to 3O years to create a similar bunching up of the fabric?
OR
Should I take my little guy to a tailor and have them alter his suit a little bit, and henceforth resign myself to using pussy in a can, in lieu of my digits to maintain a nice, even balance of friction around my little fighter when he is charging the mound?

Thanks for any and all advice,
Bilbo and I shall await your response.

Don

Jesus Christ.

My advice to you sir, is stay sincere to your southpaw qualities...as JFK once said, "There's something immoral about changing one's original thought." My advice would be to use your dominant left hand/arm in the practice of producing baby batter. I think you'll find that the increased dexterity provided by the more coordinated left hand, will bring about great joy and satisfaction in your daily exercise. Try it for awhile, and see what happens. You can always revert back to right hand railing if need be.

[AlteredDNA]

I've done a bit of writing as well - lyrics, short verse, etc..., as well as some fiction. I'm actually currently working on a short story, and think that this Fall I'll actually begin writing the novel that I've been researching for the past year or so.

Sounds like we might have a writer's support group here...

[artist4perry]

I write on my blog on a fairly regular basis. Leftists, please visit if you wish to be pissed off.

I typically write about politics and current events but, occasionally, I do some personal stuff and some comedy. Here's my favorite bit...

In Baghdad, a man identified as an Iraqi journalist tossed his shoes at President Bush earlier today. Bush was able to dodge the shoes. The man, Muntadhar al-Zaidi, was dragged away while saying “This is a farewell … you dog!” He currently remains in custody while the Iraqi judiciary decides whether or not he will face charges for assaulting Iraqi President al-Maliki, who was standing next to Bush.

In related news, the pitching-starved Baltimore Orioles have tendered a one-year offer to al-Zaidi on condition of his release. Terms of the deal were not disclosed but it is speculated that the Orioles may agree to trade one million euros (since the dollar has been devalued) and one thousand unused burkhas to the Iraqi government in exchange for al-Zaidi’s freedom. The Iraqi government is not commenting at this time but is rumored to be looking into a possible trade with Palestinian authorities on a Zaidi for suicide bomber exchange.

When asked about the possible deal with the Orioles, al-Zaidi commented that “I’m not sure about the Orioles but I am open to it since the American League is known as a junk-ball league, so it fits my style better.” Oriole officials are tight-lipped but Orioles owner, Peter Angelos, is considering a three-way deal with Iraq and the New York Yankees if they are willing to put George Steinbrenner on the chopping block.

Posted on 12/15/2008

From Dave's Dominion

Political writing, cool! We have talent here, some of you are being shy!

[Deb]

Nice story Deano, very you, and yes, funny!

Youngjrny..........storylines take time for comics, but in short that was a good twist.

Kim, share a short story, please.

Don,................... I did not know this would turn into a Dear Deano/Dear Dr. Ruth column, but O.K. Whatever makes your "little soldier" more even.

Great idea for a thread Ginger, love your poem.

I remember reading a little short story that Deano threw together on the fly about Journey back when JSS was in it......using a bunch of MR people as characters, I think it took place on a tour bus or in a restaurant or something, funny stuff. LOL I'll have to see if I can search it up later...........

[StevePerryHair]

I've done a bit of writing as well - lyrics, short verse, etc..., as well as some fiction. I'm actually currently working on a short story, and think that this Fall I'll actually begin writing the novel that I've been researching for the past year or so.

Sounds like we might have a writer's support group here...

Apparently that as well as a sexual advice column

[artist4perry]

I've done a bit of writing as well - lyrics, short verse, etc..., as well as some fiction. I'm actually currently working on a short story, and think that this Fall I'll actually begin writing the novel that I've been researching for the past year or so.

Sounds like we might have a writer's support group here...

Apparently that as well as a sexual advice column

Maybe I need to put Deano's face on Dr Ruth's body.....................that is scary!

[AlteredDNA]

I've done a bit of writing as well - lyrics, short verse, etc..., as well as some fiction. I'm actually currently working on a short story, and think that this Fall I'll actually begin writing the novel that I've been researching for the past year or so.

Sounds like we might have a writer's support group here...

Apparently that as well as a sexual advice column

At first I was wondering if you had read some of my PMs, then I realized you meant Dean's post...

[bluejeangirl76]

Kim, share a short story, please.

I don't really have one that's fit to share, LOL. the one that ended up book-length - no way. I'd never live it down. I really want to try to rework it now, because a lot of it IS good enough to share, and to grab peoples' interest... but my god that would be a huge undertaking. It's SO long, and the entire original premise is in no way usable. But I don't know how to take the character to where she needs to be without it. Hmmm.

The more recent one (October/November 2008 was when I started it...) isn't bad, but like I said, I hit a wall... might try to work on that soon. My other problem is when I'm consumed with one idea, I can't revisit others ... that's why things end up unfinished or at least, by my standards.

You all just might read the current idea one day, though, when it's in the $4 dollar bin at Barnes & Noble next to a James Patterson crime novel or Sue Grafton's "I is for Insanity" or whatever is up with her alphabet books... Kind of a thriller idea.

And actually Ginger, this thread kind of jumpstarted me a little... as I was typing the previous post, an idea that I've been toying with for a few weeks kind of started to take some direction. So I will dedicate the book to you! But dear lord, it's DARK. I might not make it through the outlining of it.

[StevePerryHair]

I've done a bit of writing as well - lyrics, short verse, etc..., as well as some fiction. I'm actually currently working on a short story, and think that this Fall I'll actually begin writing the novel that I've been researching for the past year or so.

Sounds like we might have a writer's support group here...

Apparently that as well as a sexual advice column

At first I was wondering if you had read some of my PMs, then I realized you meant Dean's post...

:lol:

[Michigan Girl]

I am LMAO!!! I have always said Deano is a great writer!!
I am sure he can write for any audience ...obviously his
target audience here is MR. His stories always contain
remarkability ... intelligent, witty writing, excellent
craftsmanship and dialogue.
His ability to take us into that bathroom and make us
visualize each moment is uncanny!!
I was eating mac and cheese and I had to stop ...!!!

Great job, Deano ...I really think you should pursue this as a career,
you're fabulous!!
Someone will help you with the grammar and punctuation!!

[Rockindeano]

This one is also going in the book, It is a bit sexual, but it did happen. It's not meant to offend anyone, but it is adult reading.

Rachel


Back in 1988, I attended Washington State University in Pullman, WA. It was an extremely fun time in my life, and in fact, sometimes too fun. I enrolled late, going in at age 26, but damned I was young at heart. I would routinely mix it up with the younger students, and engage in every activity one could, ranging from toga parties, to outdoor bashes down on the Snake River, about half an hour south of the campus. Although I was older than most if not all, I could definitely hold my own in any drinking game imaginable. I never lost a drinking contest, and unfortunately, that was my claim to fame in my college career. At a major university, the law of averages produce a healthy number of desirable women, fuckable in every conceivable way. I was legally married at the time, but separated, and was soon heading for a divorce, so I took every possible chance I could get to get with as many smokin' hot girls.

In my junior year, in political science class was a tall long legged beauty named Rachel Bernstein. This girl had me from day one when I would sit next to her in the back row of class. She would always reveal those long sculpted legs whether it was Spring, Summer or Fall. I looked more at her appendages than I did the professor, who was always blathering some shit about civil rights, constitutional amendments or presidential elections. I knew all that crap already, as every poly sci class seemingly entailed the same lessons, in different versions. So one beautiful day in late April, Rachel wore a mini skirt that I swear was for my own personal viewing show. She just had to know I was infatuated with her. I would always giver her answers to tests, help her with homework, and brief her about the readings she never got around to doing. So on this fine day, I decided to down a 12 pack of cheap beer in the mid morning. Class started at 1:00p.m. so I had plenty of time to indulge in liquid courage prior to class. I awoke about 10, and threw on some shorts and a shirt and bumped on down to the supermarket and picked up some horrible tasting Keystone Light. This was going to be a grand time I told myself; this was the day I was going to hang out with Rachel. I shotgunned all twelve beers in about 30 minutes and was feeling pretty good about myself and where this was going. I hopped in the shower and washed every single inch of my body. I wasn't fat, but wasn't in great shape, but I was fairly good looking. I lathered up and vigorously cleaned my ass area, my nut sack and my pecker. They never saw soap like that before. My cock had to know something was up today, and that little fucker better had not let me down. I put on a Cougar T shirt and some khaki shorts and walked down to the bus stop.

The ride to school was bumpy and I found myself needing to piss like Secretariat. I somehow managed to wait and painfully walked to the nearest restroom and drained my main vein. After about 5 minutes of peeing, I was back outside and heading for Todd Hall. I arrived into class and was once again excited to see Amy wearing a revealing mini skirt and tight shirt, outlining perfectly constructed breasts. I knew I had to make a run for those today, and was determined to do so. Class happened, I think, as I didn't pay one fucking attentive minute to the professor. I just fantasized and scribbled in my notebook, and of course glanced looks at beautiful Rachel. During class, I drew a little picture of the on campus bar called The Coug, and showed her. She smiled and my nerves responded with a whisper, "After class, you in?" She nodded yes, and I had instantly erected a tent in my pants. The clock seemed to go backwards at this point, and I never thought this fucked up lesson about MLK and the Civil Rights movement would ever end. Eventually it did, and it was go time! I was still semi hard at this point, and thank God I had a backpack that I could carry low today, to hide my jousting rod. It was so obviously pointing through my shorts, that I couldn't wait to sit in those bar stools to alleviate the uncomfortably feeling.

We made the short walk across campus talking about everything non school. It was absolutely awesome feeling, having this gorgeous girl next to me, and having my nimrod buddies see us. Of course those assholes heckled some embarrassing, yet funny shit, and I smiled underneath my lips, but I think even Rachel was silently laughing too. We arrived at The Coug and went in. The windows were open, and the breeze was cleansing to the soul. I ordered a pitcher of beer and joined her at a little corner table. She drank her first few beers down rather quickly, and I matched her of course, and soon found myself at he bar ordering yet another pitcher. The day was sailing along and the beer seemed to be evaporating into our waiting mouths, and I was ordering another and then another. Of course now we were both good and drunk, and it was nearing 7p.m. The talk was turning more and more seductive and personal. Somehow, someway, she and I ended up sitting flush to one another, leg to leg, hip to hip. My hand found the tops of her thigh, and soon, it traveled north to her breast. The bar was completely packed, and some of my friends had found their way in as well, and were watching this movie play out in the corner of the bar. We finally left at midnight, sixty dollars lighter in the wallet, and walked to her house. It was all we could do to keep our hands off each other, and once in, it was on. The clothes came off like we were on fire. This had to be the best drunken night of my entire life, as I was loose enough to be free and charming, yet straight enough to know what I was doing.

Thankfully, her roommates weren't home, and we found ourselves naked on her bedroom floor. I came clean in the heat of the moment and told her I thought she had the most wonderful ass and legs I'd ever seen, let alone touched. I told her she was so smooth and that it was a great sensation. She commented that she loved to shave and that she shaved her entire body. I looked at her incredulously and peered down to her nether region, and sure enough, she was shaved, but not perfectly. There was a few days stubble. She said she was planning on shaving tomorrow morning and if I stayed over, I could watch. I said, "Why wait until tomorrow?" She smiled and concurred. It was now that she told me she didn't exactly shave, but used a hair removing cream. I said, "Ok, do it, do it now." She again smiled and looked at me, straight into my eyes and said, "know what turns me on? A man who shaves his crotch area." "Really" I said curiously. She said, "you can do me and I'll do you. "You got a deal!" Hell, I didn't care, and it sounded hot anyway. I laid her back and applied the cream around her sex and to her inner thighs and down her lovely legs. She immediately took the bottle and told me it was my turn. I laid back, and soon felt the cold cream encapsulate my balls, cock and ass area. "Takes about 5 minutes, and then we can shower it off," she said. So after just a minute, I felt something happening. The cream somehow entered into my bunghole and it started to burn like a fuckin' wildfire. I held the scream in that I wanted to badly yell out, and immediately hopped into the shower and pointed the nozzle straight up my ass, and turned that fucker on high. Had there been a lake nearby, I could have sat in it all night and cooled down my blistering asshole. This was unbearable! My shitpipe was on fire and Rachel actually started to laugh. I was so embarrassed that I wasn't pissed. I somehow got through the shower and we both were now hairless, however, I was beat red down there.

What happened next made MLK's dream look like a fucking nightmare. I proceeded to get the absolute best blow job and hummer possible. She delicately licked my shaft and under my balls, and expertly inserted my huge blue balls into her warm mouth. This heavenly feeling lasted so long, and I was so drunk I couldn't finish, and when I fell back onto the bed, she pushed me over on my stomach and started to massage my back and ass. It was then that the next move she made changed my life. I felt her slide down the bed and after a deft pause, I felt a wet soft tongue flick my asshole. She was licking my ass! At first I wondered if that was a good thing, but about a second later I ascertained that it was the most perfect thing any girl could do. I managed to roll over and my rod looked like the Washington Monument. Rachel didn't need to be told what to do, and she hopped on immediately. The wild west was now on my mind, as she slid up and down like she was on a teeter totter. All of a sudden, I had a new problem. I was almost there, but she wasn't. Quickly my mind went to a new frontier; I found myself thinking about oil changes, baseball box scores and Congressional floor debates. I was thinking about anything other than Rachel's amazingly tight snapper, gripping my pogo stick like an obsessed king crab. I must have done a good enough job with evasive thinking, because the next thing I knew, Rachel was bucking like a wild bronco, whipping her long straight hair around like a fuckin' spazz, arching her back and with it, her exquisite set of milk bags soaring straight into the air, cumming like a fucking southern Texas oil well. Goddamned if the fuckin' sun wasn't blinding me as my eyes rolled back in my head, exhausted by the events of the night. It was morning, and we were entwined in arms and legs, panting like Africans who just ran 12 miles escaping from a fuckin' cheetah. I knew one thing, and that was I was hungrier than an fasting Ethiopian. I was on a mission for food, so I grabbed my clothes and turned to Rachel, and she was fast asleep, no doubt completely worn out. I left her to sleep and headed out into the sunlight, streaming down on me like I accomplished a truly great feat. I was doing the walk of fame if you will, and it felt awesome.

[Lula]

Great job, Deano ...I really think you should pursue this as a career,
you're fabulous!!
Someone will help you with the grammar and punctuation!!

not for any audience, but for the overgrown frat boy crowd he has a fan base .

i do think dean has a knack for story telling and should spend some time honing his craft.