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July 01, 2010

It's That Time Again....

That moment VC-ers wait for with trembling anticipation each year:

For the first month of Ricardo and Felicity's affair, they greeted one another at every stolen rendezvous with a kiss--a lengthy, ravenous kiss, Ricardo lapping and sucking at Felicity's mouth as if she were a giant cage-mounted water bottle and he were the world's thirstiest gerbil.

Molly Ringle

Of course the subtle literary stylings of the Bulwer-Lytton Contest cannot be fully appreciated without taking a trip down memory lane to July of 2004:

It was a dark and stormy night, jet black as the plush leather seats of the Mazda RX8 that gripped Delilah's trembling thighs like an overzealous car salesman on a slow afternoon, the inky void relieved only by the eerily grinning face of the Bose radio dial... as her sandaled toe caressed the clutch gently to the floor and she experienced what she could only describe thereinafter as a low polar moment of yaw inertia, she was confidently aware that the pre-loaded multilink design in back would minimize any lag in rear suspension response as she headed into a steep curve and she suddenly knew she would never go back to Brett...it was over.

Hard to believe it's been 6 years, isn't it? It feels like just yesterday.

Posted by Cassandra at July 1, 2010 07:50 AM

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Comments

But... I'm TERRIBLE at this. :(

Posted by: MikeD at July 1, 2010 08:57 AM

We don't need to do it again :p

I just thought it might be fun to torture the villainry with Brett Barboursville and the Case of the Hairy Egyption!

Posted by: Cassandra at July 1, 2010 09:04 AM

Wow -- that second guy, he really knows how to get inside a woman's head. It's like he KNOWS me, you know?

Posted by: Texan99 at July 1, 2010 09:43 AM

As Heather stared through the double-paned oriel in the faculty lounge, absorbed at vista presented by the the student housing across the barren quad, illuminated only by the chill light of the distant stars, she mused, "Gee, it really *is* a stark and dormy night."

Posted by: BillT at July 1, 2010 10:17 AM

%$#@!

"...absorbed at the vista presented by the student housing units..."

Proofreading by laptop light...

Posted by: BillT at July 1, 2010 10:19 AM

"Six..." Brett thought to himself as he returned his prison jump suit to Sergeant Ringwald,aka "Ringworm," the sour-pussed lead guard of cell block H - "H as in Hell" - "...years" (his thought continued) pacing the narrow confines of a 8 by 10 world of hard stone accompanied only by a discordant soundtrack of metal-on-metal, foul language, and, on occasion, the screams of the mad and the innocent under the harsh glare of incessant flourescent lighting which provided an undertone of buzzing and crackling that reminded him, at times, of the kind of buzzing and crackling one might hear in the laboratory of a mad scientist in a grade B horror flick of the sort Hollywood turned out in great numbers in the 1950's to lure teenagers into the drive-in movies where the popcorn was never as fresh as the boys, or so it seemed at that time, as least to Brett, who was only a wink in his father's eye at the time, but was now an old man after the last six years...and for what?

Posted by: spd rdr at July 1, 2010 10:28 AM

In spite of the buzz kill that is Potus #44 and the 111th, I'm getting an iddy, biddy kernel of an idea. Something along the lines of an adventure.

*Hmmm, the primitive Neanderthal brain wonders how improbable would be a tale of a bumbling but adventurous character.
An every day, lunch-bucket fellow who manages to command the world stage while keeping both feet firmly planted in his smirking maw?

*lights explode in optic nerve-brain junction! Nope, not beer-thirty alarm, but plot line*

I've got it! *Drum roll*

Delaware Joe and the Raiders of the Lost Snark!
<subplot>Saving Private Memories -- The Elena Kagan Testimony --</subplot>

I'll have to mull this one over a bit.

Posted by: Alstair Cooke's cousin Cletus at July 1, 2010 10:58 AM

I wish I could say I was drunk. However, given the date, I was on paid meds.

I laughed, I cried, I kissed five minutes goodbye.

That was fun!

Posted by: La Femme at July 1, 2010 11:22 AM

Bell rings, incessant in it's tenacious zeal to alert us, in its audible semaphore, that Ra's Chariot has appeared, and the neogenisis of my pre-collegiate educational endeavor. My gaze drifts to port as a siren, a daughter of Eve (Gracen, of the Hampton's Gracens famous for acquiring their wealth during prohibition with the Kennedy clan), a neighbor and family friend, has emerged from a crysalis composed of Medusa's veil and emerged as Helen of Troy, but with augmentation from the Hephaestus of Beverly Hills, the esteemed gentleman that bequeathed to the world a new Heidi Montag.

Posted by: Smart Grunt at July 1, 2010 11:59 AM

You know, I go back and read it about twice a year. You don't get that kind of purple prose at just any newsstand.

And it forever changed the way I look at startled kittens.

Posted by: MathMom at July 1, 2010 12:29 PM

That was a classic line, wasn't it? :)

Posted by: Cassandra at July 1, 2010 12:33 PM

Unfortunately for Brett, that is, if it was possible to be more unfortunate than Brett, his narrow world was about to become even narrower, as "Ringworm" gave him the unwelcome news that prison overcrowding had reached a tipping point and he was about to get a cellmate - but his disgust turned to something entirely new when he realized he had seen his new "buddy" before...he reached up to the sill of the window where he kept his few precious belongings and gently lifted a round, flat object which, dammit, stuck him in the thumb aGAIN, the campaign button that he had rubbed and fondled for years like a single worry bead…and then as his new cellmate stepped through the open bars, Brett thought to himself (because, to whom else could he think?) “That John Edwards sure has a purty mouth!”

Posted by: MathMom at July 1, 2010 01:06 PM

EWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!

Posted by: spd rdr at July 1, 2010 03:51 PM

Admit it, people.

I am a God.

Posted by: The Silky Pony at July 1, 2010 03:56 PM

As the years in prison ground down his body and wore on his soul, he was refreshed by the memory of Delilah and her feminine charms, her long brown hair (or was it blond?), her deep brown eyes (or were they green?), her lucscious pouty lips (or were they thin?), and the every day reminder of the ecomium he had tried to live by these last six tedious years, when recalling the past, the best rejoinder was "forget it".

So it goes.
*************************
"Delaware Joe and the Raiders of the Lost Snark"

And don't be a smartass. :)

Posted by: Don Brouhaha at July 1, 2010 07:39 PM

Gee, I was thinking about writing The Great American Novel about a vampire named Lefty, whose abusive father had knocked out his left fang when Lefty was a toddler.

But I don't think I'm in this league.

Eric Hines

Posted by: E Hines at July 1, 2010 08:55 PM

Well, I don't have to write a story cause I already know of one.

Read the first chapter

Posted by: Ymarsakar at July 1, 2010 09:11 PM

Forgot to mention, manga is read from Right to Left, Top to Down. Whereas English comics are read from Top-Down, Left to right.

Posted by: Ymarsakar at July 1, 2010 09:11 PM

Has anyone discussed starting a fund to help Ricardo with what must be the world's worst buck teeth?

Posted by: Richard McEnroe at July 4, 2010 02:56 PM

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