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June 16, 2009

Just Fifteen Words...

...to open a story. Provide a 15 word opening line for the great American novel - something that will invite the reader to give free rein to his or her imagination. Here are a few lines to get you started:

Just east of Liberty, Kansas, there extends an open plain, blank as every memory written.

As her car careened off the guardrail, Devon wished she'd gone to Brakes 4 Less.

The door opened and the scent of honeysuckle crowded him like a suddenly remembered promise.

Few lights had so blinded him with such scant intensity, but that was Helen's gift.

The train was hot and close, and his excuse had melted long before her station.

Posted by Cassandra at June 16, 2009 12:51 PM

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Comments

"I should die in bed," he sighed from behind newsprint. "You will," she smiled silently.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 02:10 PM

It was 54 steps from the front porch to the creek where the secret dwelled.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 02:13 PM

Racing the incoming mortar round to the bunker had certainly *seemed* like a good idea.

Posted by: BillT at June 16, 2009 02:14 PM

Like everything else, goodness and mercy had by-passed the ugly town of Kenner long ago.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 02:18 PM

Knowing what he'd see, he made himself look...

"I did the right thing, didn't I?"

Posted by: Yu-Ain Gonnano at June 16, 2009 02:21 PM

It was a stark and dormy night in the Hahvahd Yahd.

Posted by: BillT at June 16, 2009 02:21 PM

"Do you dream?" Beverly asked, taken his hand across the table. "I wish," he replied.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 02:23 PM

"Do you dream?" Beverly asked, taking his hand across the table. "I wish," he replied.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 02:24 PM

My friend, Jeremiah, was a bullfrog. I could never understand him. So we drank wine.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 02:29 PM

He awoke to the touch of the rain and her silken lips upon his face.

Posted by: MikeD at June 16, 2009 02:46 PM

As Williams eyed the basement door a little voice screemed, "Can't you hear the MUSIC!"

Posted by: Yu-Ain Gonnano at June 16, 2009 02:50 PM

The chorizo burrito was about to herald the arrival of her long lost lover!

Posted by: vet66 at June 16, 2009 02:57 PM

Benny loved to watch his grandmother bake bread. Her every movement was purposeful, and elegant.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 03:09 PM

"Charlie? Oh, Christ! Charlie!"
The sound of his name was consumed by the muddy walls.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 03:16 PM

Linda's watch informed her that there is no time like the present. He'd still come.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 03:27 PM

Spd never let his Chinese Jewish Mexican American Lawn Chica wear the Cheese Danish Bikini.

Posted by: Yu-Ain Gonnano at June 16, 2009 03:29 PM

There I was...up to my bohiney in alligators, with only a soda straw......

Posted by: Kbob in Katy at June 16, 2009 03:34 PM

"Engine Room; Conn. Give me everything we have and prepare for collision. We will win!!!"

Posted by: Kbob in Katy at June 16, 2009 03:37 PM

The door was cranberry red sporting an ornate brass knocker. He pressed the doorbell. Twice.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 03:40 PM

You guys are killing me :)

Keep 'em coming!

Posted by: Cassandra at June 16, 2009 03:48 PM

Bridget counted to 68 while the burning Spitfire writ its last signature into the dockyards.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 03:51 PM

At the corner of 8th and Main there is a cloud. You can't see it.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 03:56 PM

The grass grows warily under the heat of an Alabama July. But it grows nonetheless.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 04:01 PM

The white bear pawed idly at the brass nameplate partially embedded in the glacier -- "Gore Residence"...

Posted by: BillT at June 16, 2009 04:06 PM

Bolden exited the trolley at Kenmore Square, and marched purposefully towards Fenway Park, pleasently amused.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 04:10 PM

Married one bright June day, the Kaminski's divorce was finalized on a grey March 23rd.


Hey! Can anybody help me with the difference between "grey" and "gray" as a color?

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 04:23 PM

Like a Dali painting the champagne cork exited the chilled bottle with a whimper.

Posted by: vet66 at June 16, 2009 04:24 PM

"Bah! Carcharodon megalodon has been extinct for millennia, Davis, despite what that Aussie whaler --" *THUMP!*

Posted by: BillT at June 16, 2009 04:24 PM

Yesterday was snow, and hunger. Today is snow, and hunger. Perhaps tomorrow, Oleg will receive extra beet slice from Politburo, only to have stolen by corrupt Kommissar of life.

-- "No Crime, Only Punishment" By Comrade Oleg

Posted by: a former european at June 16, 2009 04:25 PM

You guys are killing me :)
Keep 'em coming!


Bill did not understand her desire for euthanasia, but as a gentleman, he was obliged.

Posted by: MikeD at June 16, 2009 04:25 PM

At Quoddy Head, on the coast of Maine, you will see the sun before anyone.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 04:27 PM

Suppose you had fifteen minutes to choose between yourself and your other self. Could you?

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 04:47 PM

The engines died off one by one, until there was nothing in air but smoke.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 04:52 PM

Having exhausted his Google browser, spd continued in bad Rooskie dialect.

Posted by: BillT at June 16, 2009 05:00 PM

"There are three things you must remember," my father would intone. I remember only one.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 05:09 PM

It wasn't uncommon for the front door to swell in the rain. This felt different.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 05:13 PM

The crowd in the lobby only confirmed what Billy already knew. He'd been a fool.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 05:18 PM

I once got stung by a host of hornets.
I sought it, and was rewarded.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 05:23 PM

The Meek. Are you joking? The meek stand aside while the strong level the playng field.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 05:26 PM

There is a precise moment in every persons' life where the mail is late, again.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 05:31 PM

There wasn't anything "wrong," so to speak, but he knew when to finally shut up.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 05:38 PM

Mike... :p

You all are amazing. Sorry I haven't joined in yet. Too much going on at work.

Posted by: Cassandra at June 16, 2009 05:43 PM

It was a dark and stormy night when Jared the vampire awoke and began hunting.

Posted by: ZZMike at June 16, 2009 05:51 PM

"Hey! Can anybody help me with the difference between "grey" and "gray" as a color?"

Seems pretty black and white to me, spd. One has an *a* the other an *e*.
0>;~}

Posted by: DL Sly at June 16, 2009 05:56 PM

Falling ever faster, his last thoughts were Who drained the #$%@%$# pool!

Posted by: bt-the resident-curmudgeon_hun at June 16, 2009 06:30 PM

All day long the damned sun kept shining down, and Sean's guilt began to sweat.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 06:50 PM

Engrossed in the sports page then hearing high heels echo outside the stall was shocking...

Posted by: bt-the resident-curmudgeon_hun at June 16, 2009 07:00 PM

Comrade Oleg,
You have used more than your 15 word allotment. Your selfish hoarding will mean that many subjects of the glorious revolution will have to do with less. This bourgeois attitude is counter-revolutionary and must be swiftly punished. For your crimes you will be left with only one thing to drink from: a massive codpiece.

--The Politburo.

Posted by: Yu-Ain Gonnano at June 16, 2009 07:25 PM

Back against a rocky cave wall; a stifled breath in black darkness. What awakened him?!

Posted by: DL Sly at June 16, 2009 07:45 PM

For your crimes you will be left with only one thing to drink from: a massive codpiece.

*spitting out drink* :)

Posted by: Cassandra at June 16, 2009 08:01 PM

I hope that wasn't a giant codpiece you were drinking out of.....
0>;~}

Posted by: DL Sly at June 16, 2009 08:10 PM

Or even a massive one....
*snnicker*

Posted by: DL Sly at June 16, 2009 08:12 PM

Childs promised that he would behave, but the dinner at his in-laws turned out poorly.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 09:54 PM

The dimly lit portico revealed the owner, unconscious, clad only in bourbon and a thong!

Posted by: bt_sam-spade_hun at June 16, 2009 10:19 PM

Across town, the police were pouring Patrick Kennedy from his totaled Prius into a limo.

Posted by: bt_sam-spade_hun at June 16, 2009 10:22 PM

When the phone rang, John awoke with a start knowing that it was Elizabeth calling.

Posted by: bt_sam-spade_hun at June 16, 2009 10:25 PM

Meanwhile, Timmy had locked himself in his office studying his TurboTax for Dummies 2009 edition.

Posted by: bt_sam-spade_hun at June 16, 2009 10:27 PM

"Three guesses," she taunted, confident that any response would be false. He smiled, and lied.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 10:28 PM

Jimmy Carter offered Israel to the Hamas leadership, shortly before his entourage's armored vehicles exploded.

Posted by: bt_sam-spade_hun at June 16, 2009 10:33 PM

EyeWON stumbled into the office, bewildered, and asked if ACORN ran an operation in Iran?

Posted by: bt_sam-spade_hun at June 16, 2009 10:39 PM

Ray leaned over the bar and whispered.
"Whiskey and a blonde. Any whiskey. Any blonde."

Posted by: spd rdr at June 16, 2009 10:44 PM

Sam, sleeping behind the bar, awoke, rose, and said, take over payments and she's yours.

Posted by: bt_sam-spade_hun at June 16, 2009 10:55 PM

*Sam leaves the bar in haste upon remembering the black bird and the fat man*

Posted by: bt_sam-spade_hun at June 16, 2009 10:57 PM

Yeah, dark and stormy doesn't bother me -- Jared's my name, and demonic hemophagy's my game.

Posted by: BillT at June 17, 2009 01:25 AM

If it was 17 syllables, they could be haikus...which could be done, with 13 monosyllabic words.

There I was in the...
Congo, with nothing but my
clothes and my poor wits.

Best I could come up with on short notice... ;-)

Posted by: camojack at June 17, 2009 01:32 AM

Sir Reynald's escutcheon was blazoned sable and gules -- he *was* a dark and stormy knight.

Posted by: BillT at June 17, 2009 01:42 AM

"Farrell -- look! Near the stoop! What *is* it?"

"It's called a 'lawn chica', sorr."

Posted by: BillT at June 17, 2009 02:04 AM

"Bollocks!" cried the Brigadier's batman, spotting the onrushing wave of Fuzzy-wuzzys at Omdurman. "Volley fire!"

Posted by: a former european at June 17, 2009 03:28 AM

Silently the fog stole over the hill, like an old dog begging for cheese danish.

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 03:29 AM

He knew it was coming, was helpless to stop the cycle.
The comment.
The *whack*.

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 03:36 AM

She bathed the cross in holy water as required to properly banish the Accounting Tome.

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 03:54 AM

The lunatic lives inside their heads. Liberal ideas are how they are fed. Pity them......

Posted by: Kbob in Katy at June 17, 2009 10:17 AM

No spacemerc should die on an agriplanet. No sticks, no stones, nothing to break bones.

Posted by: Elise at June 17, 2009 11:58 AM

Elle's starter soon tired and whimpered to a halt. The snow responded by falling faster.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 12:18 PM

"That reminds me of a joke," he was fond of saying, never noticing the groans.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 12:20 PM

"I really have to get back to work," he pleaded, hoping his face wasn't lying.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 12:22 PM

Brown cowboy boots with black silk boxers. Looks like this stiff died of lousy taste.

Posted by: Elise at June 17, 2009 12:50 PM

"Yeah. Chili for breakfast. Again." she said, striking a match on her boot. "You whining?"

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 01:27 PM

"Mission accomplished," the spacemerc murmured into the comm, holstering the MkIII Lousy Taste Projector.

Posted by: BillT at June 17, 2009 01:29 PM

Kill all the golfers?
No!
All right, let's do the same thing, but with gophers...

Posted by: Carl Spackler at June 17, 2009 01:53 PM

Cool ocean breezes brought goosebumps to his shaved body. Beachcombers stared as he peddled.

Posted by: man riding unicycle naked at June 17, 2009 02:30 PM

Cracking the safe at Hawaii General Hospital was easy; stealing the birth certificate, not so...

Posted by: ziobuck at June 17, 2009 02:32 PM

Bundled in layers. Still cold. Still alone.

A four wheeler gased and ready.

Colorodo sucked.

Posted by: man riding unicycle naked at June 17, 2009 02:32 PM

Even I wouldn't want to read a book I wrote, but you wanted it so...

Posted by: Marvin the Paranoid Android at June 17, 2009 02:37 PM

“Canon fodder,” she mused. “That’s the story of my life around here. Just canon fodder.”

Posted by: Elise at June 17, 2009 02:38 PM

Brain the size of a planet, and you want literature. You call that job satisfaction?

Posted by: Marvin the Paranoid Android at June 17, 2009 02:41 PM

His lover scowled. "You love that half-bike more than me."

"Where's my jockstrap?" he signed.

Posted by: man riding unicycle naked at June 17, 2009 02:45 PM

Three silent flak bursts beset the tail-gunner.
"Don't sweat'em unless you hear..." BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Posted by: ziobuck at June 17, 2009 02:52 PM

He sighed, "Two things I ask of you. Do not refuse me before I die."

Posted by: ziobuck at June 17, 2009 03:02 PM

"We call ourselves 'the Canon Fodders,' Hawkeye -- it's a Chaplain joke," chortled Father Mulcahey.

Posted by: BillT at June 17, 2009 03:10 PM

*groan*

Posted by: Cassandra at June 17, 2009 03:23 PM

*whine* *roof*

(Okay, that's fifteen, in dog words)

Posted by: BillT at June 17, 2009 03:25 PM

She could usually ignore the inner voices, just not that one, "Neverrr haf' family mushrrrroom."

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 03:43 PM

The twins shaved their heads and beards the day before their father married Jill.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 03:47 PM

Snidely pondering the glowing rectangle Cass thought, "My inner child does not enjoy being spanked".

Posted by: Cassandra at June 17, 2009 03:48 PM

Memphis was fogged in, and if Jack really wanted to go home, he'd have driven.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 03:58 PM

[riffing on vet66]

As Conchita's moans heated up the Ford's interior Juan suddenly regretted that final bean burrito.

Posted by: Cassandra at June 17, 2009 04:02 PM

Five was a bad number. Very bad. And Carlton's jersey invited the muse of misfortune.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 04:05 PM

There is a point in time where you disappear and your kids won't miss you.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 04:09 PM

Glaring down upon her sycophantic donut glazer, Sally sneered, "*That* is not personal growth."

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 04:10 PM

Al took notice of the doughnuts on the table, and so let his guard down.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 04:12 PM

Agghhhh**drool***

Dooooonnnnuuuts.

Posted by: Homer at June 17, 2009 04:15 PM

Is Agghhhh**drool*** a word?

Wait, does that question count towards my 15?

It does?

Doh!

Posted by: Homer at June 17, 2009 04:17 PM

Snidely pondering the glowing rectangle Cass thought, "I feel the need.....to *whack* someone."

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 04:17 PM

"There are things I've seen," Grandpa said, distantly, "Scary things." And he returned to whittling.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 04:25 PM

I had seduced many Soviet officers, but General Alexeev was the first really great lover.

Posted by: jennifer at June 17, 2009 04:28 PM

The cheery "WHAP WHAP WHAP" of the cyber ruler soothed Cass's badly bruised cerebral cortex :p

Posted by: Cassandra at June 17, 2009 04:31 PM

Derrick survived the smack of the ruler three times, and then pronounced his knuckles free.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 04:38 PM

The Dark Lord grimly hun'ted trolls while quietly muttering, "Yu-ain gonnano know what hit ya."

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 04:42 PM

'A Man's knuckles are born free" he mused, "...and yet everywhere ..." WHAP WHAP WHAP!!!!

Posted by: Cassandra at June 17, 2009 04:51 PM

The knock on the door was not unexpected. Xerxes' "*WHAP* Tax" enforcers had finally arrived.

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 04:57 PM

he pretended to fish. the man he had come to kill was launching his boat.

Posted by: nom de guerre at June 17, 2009 05:05 PM

if only i could go back in time and kick the crap out of myself.

Posted by: nom de guerre at June 17, 2009 05:10 PM

Nobody could reckon the date. It might have been May, or June, or October. Whatever.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 05:12 PM

There were a hundred of us. All fools ready to die. But I did not.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 05:16 PM

Kyle stared dully as the elevator's indicator tracked the descent. Four. Three. Two. One. Me.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 05:30 PM

There's a gypsy on Sixth Street that can summarize your soul. I go there often.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 05:36 PM

Ms. Prejean tapped her foot impatiently.

Posted by: Cricket at June 17, 2009 05:44 PM

The horses looked thirsty and tired in the hot summer sun.
Thanks for playing everyone.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 05:49 PM

He removed the offensive letters from his perfect keyboard. "A virtual vowel movement." He chuckled.

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 05:53 PM

When you sell your soul to the devil, the contract must be signed in blood.

Posted by: david foster at June 17, 2009 06:47 PM

The quivering mass froze as she stabbed the cigarette out, "Mistress Mandy is not pleased."

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 07:31 PM

Whistles echoed down the trench. "Ready?" Alvin asked. Jeb grabbed the ladder without a word.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 07:38 PM

Being a jerk was not something Tom aspired to, but his calling was without question.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 17, 2009 07:55 PM

The black 'vette erupted over the knoll, smokey tires begging to stop before the cliff.

Posted by: DL Sly at June 17, 2009 09:00 PM

The black 'vette erupted over the troll. Frodo smoked while pondering this latest anachronism.

Posted by: BillT at June 18, 2009 12:56 AM

all my problems, every last one, started the day i decided to fire my mother.

Posted by: nom de guerre at June 18, 2009 01:08 AM

Call me Ma'am, she thought! Ha!
Yuri the hit-man dwarf was waiting on hold.

Posted by: Barbara's Boxers at June 18, 2009 08:26 AM

((Going for a James Joyce type nonsensical "word art" thing here))

The mores of the abstemious paragon averred the salutary effulgence and disported the gravid megrim.

((Inspired by http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/archive/2009/06/ )

Posted by: MikeD at June 18, 2009 10:13 AM

The canon kept firing as I charged up the aisle to the strains of Pachelbel.


The cannon kept firing as I charged up the isle to the stretch of pachysandra.

Posted by: Elise at June 18, 2009 12:21 PM

The Canonical Cannon Conundrum Compilation, Villainous Company Press (2009).

Rate it now? Y/N [ENTER]

Posted by: BillT at June 18, 2009 12:53 PM

Shouldn't that be The Canonical Cannon Conundrum Compilation: The Complete Canon?

Posted by: Elise at June 18, 2009 01:20 PM

Wellllllll, yeah, but then I'd have gone over the word limit and had to borrow

Posted by: BillT at June 18, 2009 01:33 PM

from a couple of the folks who didn't use their entire allocation of fifteen words

Posted by: BillT at June 18, 2009 01:34 PM

and thereby created a de facto Verbum Offset cartel. Besides, Oleg already used most of

Posted by: BillT at June 18, 2009 01:36 PM

the surplus.

Posted by: BillT at June 18, 2009 01:37 PM

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon in front of them


<To purchase another fifteen word allocation, please enter your credit or debit card number and four digit authorization code>
Thank you

Posted by: The Terseinator at June 18, 2009 02:37 PM

In another time and place, a hangman's noose around ten American necks wouldn't seem unusual.

Posted by: ziobuck at June 18, 2009 02:57 PM

Between Dublin and Hunter there only were three stretches of road to dump a body.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 18, 2009 03:03 PM

His breathing stopped as crosshairs marked the termination point of the .300 Winchester Magnum round.

Posted by: ziobuck at June 18, 2009 03:17 PM

Free-falling in the dead of night at 120 mph should be the ultimate thrill. Not tonight.

Posted by: ziobuck at June 18, 2009 03:54 PM

Walter didn't care that he was naked. He was going to eat his egg salad.

Posted by: DL Sly at June 18, 2009 05:07 PM

Christian Fellow's name appeared in the Times 87 years before he knew himself a thief

Posted by: spd rdr at June 18, 2009 05:15 PM

A camera distances the wretched from the chronicler of the wretched. And cocktails were waiting.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 18, 2009 05:27 PM

"Left."
"Why?"
"Just go left."
"Right would be faster."
"I hate it when you breathe."

Posted by: spd rdr at June 18, 2009 05:32 PM

Walter squeeks outta naugahyde covered in egg salad. A .300 WinMag arrives between venetian blinds...

Posted by: bt-the resident-curmudgeon_hun at June 18, 2009 05:55 PM

Sgt. Friday noticed Bubba choking Billy as she was turning right, tires squealing in protest.

Posted by: Officer Gannon at June 18, 2009 05:59 PM

Removing two metal spatulas from deep freeze, the wardrobe mistress cackled, "I'll give ya cold...."

Posted by: DL Sly at June 18, 2009 08:52 PM

One day a boy stood at the ocean wondering when his father would come home.

Posted by: DL Sly's VES at June 18, 2009 08:55 PM

We live a life of twists and turns on this rollercoaster of life and death.

Posted by: DL Sly's VES at June 18, 2009 08:55 PM

Salt water splashed over her face as she floated not knowing where she was headed.

Posted by: DL Sly's VES at June 18, 2009 08:57 PM

You guys are having WAY too much fun with this.

Posted by: Cassandra at June 18, 2009 08:58 PM

Posted by: DL Sly's VES at June 18, 2009 09:34 PM

Francis knew he was having too much fun. but he couldn't just let it waste.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 18, 2009 09:39 PM

All of a sudden my life changed, what I liked and didn't like had flipped.

Posted by: DL Sly's VES at June 18, 2009 09:39 PM

Francis knew he needed to lighten up, but he had lost the willpower to diet.

Posted by: DL Sly at June 18, 2009 09:44 PM

Steade, have you heard of the positive of power thinking? Something brother Norman Vincent said.

Posted by: Emma Peale at June 18, 2009 10:00 PM

No... Wait my phone rings.

Emma blurts, Steade, If called by a panther don't anther!

Posted by: john steade at June 18, 2009 10:03 PM

Coffee bean, dark and hard. Weigh my dear burro down. Chavez say, my mortgage pay...

Posted by: juan valdez at June 18, 2009 10:06 PM

Es also say Obama pay, to keep us south of town.

Silly man like Carter clown.

Posted by: juan valdez at June 18, 2009 10:08 PM

With knife in hand he knew the rfid chip must be removed or death waited...

Posted by: Sandy Berger at June 18, 2009 10:18 PM

Barry usually liked to end his day with three stiff martinis. Tonight it was six.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 19, 2009 10:42 AM

"Tryin' to stiff me for those martinis, Barry? I'll make *you* a stiff -- yo, Jared!"

Posted by: BillT at June 19, 2009 10:53 AM

I knew I had choothen my new mathter poorly when he thtarted thinging thad thongs.

Posted by: Igor at June 19, 2009 12:33 PM

"Good morning, baby," she chirped entering the kitchen. His coffee cup barely missed her head.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 19, 2009 12:39 PM

Yikes! :)

Posted by: Cassandra at June 19, 2009 03:11 PM

monica laughed joyously, remembering whirlwind moments with the president. "i think i'll save that dress."

Posted by: nom de guerre at June 19, 2009 03:28 PM

The blueberry picking stopped as four rebels stepped silently from the dark green tree line.

Posted by: Forklift at June 19, 2009 05:16 PM

Daniel Ortega drifted off into tropical sleep, smiling, nuzzling his autographed, EyeWON! eight by ten...

Posted by: Sam DinEsta at June 19, 2009 05:29 PM

Just before Earl was to become Father of the Year, things unraveled at home.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 19, 2009 05:55 PM

Today just wasn't their lucky day, she was stuck in traffic, and she had PMS.

Posted by: DL Sly at June 19, 2009 06:00 PM

After thirteen days of bombardment 6th Comapany no longer feared shells, but trembled at silence.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 19, 2009 06:01 PM

Luiz awoke in an alley off 5th Street and took a bloody breath. Not yet.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 19, 2009 06:10 PM

Lights still shone brightly across the Strand as Cyril and Jacob disappeared from the world.

Posted by: spd rdr at June 19, 2009 06:24 PM

"Fiction breeds an arrogance," Nabob confessed, "that denies responsibility for the well being of our creations."

Posted by: spd rdr at June 19, 2009 06:32 PM

Election results, reality's whole-cloth, torn asunder. Too ignorant to vote, but they did... twice, thrice.

Posted by: I.B. Crook at June 19, 2009 06:36 PM

I win? You're kidding! I win?
How can I explain this?
Um....
Firstest with the mostest.

:-)

Posted by: spd rdr at June 22, 2009 08:05 PM

Barry lay in the People's Hospital bed when the doctor entered. "No Liver for you!!!"

Posted by: Britt Paty at July 30, 2009 05:45 PM

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