Dear Readers! Good news. I have finally managed to talk the Drawing Lady into coming by the blog again to give us another drawing lesson! Now please remember, Dear Readers, that The Drawing Lady is a tortured artist and, as such, is as explosive as a Nitroglycerin Shirley Temple with a dynamite swizzle stick.
Oh shh . . . here she comes, now remember what I said.
Dear Readers, today the Drawing Lady will be teaching us how to draw just like the master artist, Edgar Degas!
Perhaps you are asking why Edgar Degas, Drawing Lady? What not Vincent Van Gogh, Michael Angelo or Leonardo da Vinci?
Dear Readers. Please do not pepper The Drawing Lady with questions. The Drawing Lady has only recently recovered from her jump out the sixth story window of her art school. The Drawing Lady would simply like you to draw the Edgar Degas’s Masterpiece, Two Sisters, below:
The Drawing Lady says now you try:
Is this right Drawing Lady? Is this the way you want us to draw the Two Sisters, Drawing Lady? Does this look okay, Drawing Lady?
Dear Readers, The Drawing Lady cannot answer your questions right now because she is busy pulling out her hair. In the meantime, The Drawing Lady would like you to draw Portrait of Degas and His Friend Valerne.
The Drawing Lady says now you try.
You mean like this, Drawing Lady? Does this look like Degas painted it, Do you think we got the expression right on Valerne, Drawing Lady?
Dear Readers, The Drawing Lady cannot hear your questions right now because she is too busy screaming noooooo! In the meantime The Drawing Lady is hoping against hope that you can do better drawing the Degas masterpiece, Uncle and Niece.
The Drawing Lady says now you try.
How’s this look Drawing Lady? Do the fingers look right, Drawing Lady? Do you think we captured Uncle’s expressive face, Drawing Lady? Drawing Lady? . . . Drawing Lady? . . . Drawing Lady?
Dear Readers I regret to inform you that the Drawing Lady has gone stalk-raving mad and jumped out the window concluding our drawing lesson for today.
Until next time . . . I love you, however, The Drawing Lady doesn’t love you as much as she did at the beginning of this post.
Welcome Dear Readers! Here is a 1984 crocheting booklet that I was lucky enough to score at the thrift shop yesterday! YES! (Okay, nobody else wanted them, but still!)
Let’s Look Inside Annie’s Pattern Club Newsletter!
Isn’t it inexplicably wonderful?
Annie’s Pattern Club was (or possibly still is) a newsletter where mega-talented crocheters crocheted something original and then sent the pattern to Annie, and she would publish the cream-of-the-crop designs her newsletter.
And as you will see, never have so many people come up with so many crocheted solutions for so many things that were never a problem in the first place. Let’s look at a few, shall we?
Crocheted Football Mitts
“Gosh! I don’t understand it. Billy went to play football with the guys and he didn’t take his Crocheted Football Mitts I made him.” “Well that’s weird, maybe he didn’t want the rest of the players to feel bad because they don’t have a pair of Crocheted Football Mitts.” “You know you’re probably right. I’ll get busy and crochet some mitts for the whole team!”
Church Puppet
Need: Attention Getting Device to Keep Children Focused on Bible Stories. Crocheted Solution: A church puppet, not to be confused the a church pulpit. (Although, a dust cozy for a church pulpit probably would have made it into Annie’s Newsletter too.) But what better way for little children to learn about the bible than through the crocheted lips of this memorable, but-not-in-a-good-way church puppet. Oh sure it might give the little tikes nightmares, but they’ll certainly never forget the experience (no matter how hard they try).
Lil Guy Tie
“Oh no Helen! I can’t find little Billy’s tie anywhere, and we’re going to be late for the formal occasion for which toddler formal attire is required. What ever shall I do?” “Don’t worry, Madge! While you were blabbing on and on just now, I knitted Little Billy a tie, a pair of football mitts and a church puppet.” “Oh Helen I’m blown away! Maybe you could crochet me something to wear to a formal occasion while you’re at it.”
What to wear to a formal occasion in the 80’s
“Here’s some formal attire I knitted for you while you were blowing your nose, Madge. I think it’s perfect for any formal gathering don’t you?” “DO I! I’ll be the talk of the town wearing this outfit, Helen. Thank you!” “You are so welcome, Midge!” “Uh my name’s Madge.” “Yeah whatever. And remember, I’m only loaning you my hat!”
And there you have it Dear Readers! Now get out there and crochet your hearts out!
Welcome Dear Readers to this week’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories!
Today in Sunday school Gregory learned about how God’s two angels visited Abraham’s nephew, Lot, in beautiful downtown Sodom. It’s based as loosely on Genesis: 19: 1-10 — if you’d like to follow along.
Sodom and the Elephant in the Room
One day, the Lord decided to do some evil-people spring cleaning so he sent two of his right-hand angels to Sodom to destroy every man, woman and child who lived there.
When the angels got to the gates of Sodom, Abraham’s favorite nephew, Lot, was waiting for them. As they approached, Lot jumped up and ran over to greet them by bowing down before them.
Lot: Welcome Angels!! Hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place. My wife’s got a big bowl of water ready so we can wash your feet. We know how much you angels love a good foot washing. And then my wife will prepare you a fabulous dinner.
Angel #1: What’s she making?
Lot: Tacos.
Angel #2: Out of what kind of meat?
Lot: Good question. You know I never thought to ask.
Angel #1: Oh. well in that case, thanks for the offer but we’ll just spend the night out in the open, here in the Sodom city square. I’m sure we’ll be fine.
Lot: Listen Angels, I wouldn’t advise that.
Angel #2: Why?
Lot: I’ll spare you the gory details, but everyone who lives in Sodom is horribly depraved.
Angel#1: Really, you mean they don’t always return their library books on time?
Lot: It’s worse than that I’m afraid.
Angel #2: You mean they sneak and eat the last piece of Angel food cake without asking first if the Lord wants it?
Lot: Worse than that even.
Angel #1: Gasp!
Angel #2: Gasp! Choke! Gasp!
The angels fumbled around in their between-wing backpacks until they found their asthma inhalers. Then they all sat down and rested awhile and got to know each other better. They were in the middle of exchanging their funniest foot-washing stories when it started to get dark.
Lot: Aha ha ha! . . . and you thought the bowl of dirty foot water was the soup? . . . ahaha . . . oh you guys are killing me. Ha ha ha! Ahhhhh! But hey it’s getting dark, angels, we better hasten to my house and bolt the door shut, move the dresser in front of it, roll a huge boulder in front of that and then get the elephant to shore it all up with his trunk.
Angel #1: Sounds like somebody got a new home security system!
Lot: Yeah and if anybody breaks in and rapes us, we get one month free!
Angel #1: Wow! That a great deal.
So Lot and the two angels high tailed it over to his house. Lot’s wife and daughters had just finished preparing the tacos and were sitting in the corner busily perfecting their foot washing techniques on the elephant’s feet and marveling, once again, at how handy it was to have an elephant around the house.
Sometime after dinner:
Angel #1: Those were great tacos, Mrs. Lot.
Mrs. Lot:Thank you, but I thought I used a little too much–
Angel #1: Salt?
Mrs. Lot: You thought so too.
Angel #2: What kind of meat was that, anyway?
Mrs. Lot: It was—
Before Mrs. Lot could answer, an angry mob began pounding on Lots door.
Lot: Who is it?
Angry Mob: It’s us. Sodom’s angry mob of men, young and old.
Lot: What do you want?
Angry Mob: We want you to send out the two angels so we can–
Lot: Have them go with you to return your library books?
Angry Mob. Yeah that’s it.
Lot: Well I have two daughters who could help you with that. They’re virgins and spend most of their time at the library, so they know the fastest way there.
Lot’s daughter: Dad! Stop it! You’re embarrassing us! We don’t want to help them return their library books!
Lot: One more word out of you, young lady, and I wont’ let you clean up after the elephant anymore.
Lot’s Daughter: Sorry dad.
Angry Mob: We’re going to keep pounding on this door until you open it.
Lot: What shall we do?
Angel #1 to Angel #2: We could strike them all blind.
Angel #2 to Angel #1: That’s a thought.
Lot: Or you could strike all of us deaf, and then we couldn’t hear the pounding.
Mrs. Lot: But then we couldn’t hear the elephant, if he needed us.
Lot: Good point.
Angel #1: We could strike them so they can’t taste or smell anything.
Lot’s Wife: How about striking us so we can’t smell anything.
Angel #1: Why?
Lot’s Wife: If you have to ask, you’ve never lived with an elephant.
Angel #1: Let’s just go with my original idea to strike all of them blind.
Lot: Okay fine. But they’re pounding on the door already. Won’t they still know where the door is?
Angel #2: Lot.
Lot: Yes?
Angel #2: I think I hear your elephant calling.
And there you have it, Dear Readers, what Gregory learned in Sunday School today. Be sure to check back next week when the angels destroy Sodom and Lot’s wife becomes a pillar in the community.
After years of dedicated service to so many of us writers, the editors have decided to close up shop and pursue new and exciting adventures.
I can honestly say, I’ve never had so much fun writing as I have writing for the wonderful and thoughtful writing challenges the editors at the Trifecta Writing Challenge set up for us each week.
It boggles my mind when I think of how much time and effort, thought and dedication they put into it. And I learned so much about how to write and met so many wonderful writers!
I appreciate all that they’ve done more than they’ll ever know. And so it is with a heavy heart that I write this final challenge.
Farewell to Thee My Beloved 3 3 3
Ah! Creative bliss!
Our weekly word bouquet
Where our words did pile up
In fabulous array!
But over now, just let me say
There’s really nothing worse
When pretty-little, piled-words
Must scatter and disperse
With much love and appreciation from just a few of those who would have never existed without you,
Tracey Hollaway Mr. Wondlewinkie Deputy Darwood Blick Melvin Meebee Wesley Nonlinger Strutner Von Puddlepants Mrs. MacSmathers El Guapo The Knee Deepians Puffy Weemers Piedmond Poink Toots Tenyada Heebs Hoover Spendal Braun Layla Bernice Stub Annamarie Anabella Dot Specks MacDiddles Benjamin Feldermyer Roger Lapew Sarah Bubbles Marty McDump Chlorine Carmichael’s Mother Markie MacGiggles Magnificent Jones Spinkz McCoy Valeria Lafoot Zingy Zanderlini Judy Beyerstrom Ingernelly Asp Myopic Kate Vince Valdarian Turnelly’s Junkyard Hamster Quasar Pottimas The Angel Landsburyians Lemonmaringuepieuary Dilly Dallyer The Residents of Panhandler Pennsylvania Father Ozzie Rear Admiral Rasputin Riboflavin Jake Spitzwater Marlene Frappizio Dr. Sarandon Rap Pamela Darling Smolden Farlington Shelden Pilfington Little Horribella Nigel Cornhusker Larry Flerd Becky Slater
Yaard Flunder Don Bunkley Studs McCain Charlie Center Al One Talligas Harrington Don Deeble Helen Henderdorkle Miss Penelope Pickles the Snake King Tut’s Righ and left-hand man Dr. Cartwheel
Welcome Dear Readers! While I was climbing to the top of Wednesday, I accidentally slipped and fell into Thursday. I coudn’t reach my computer as it was still in Wednesday! My computer finally caught up with me this morning! Just in time for Friday Fictioneers on Thursday. Yay! A round of calendars for everyone — on me!
Merry Christmas Dear Readers and welcome to the very first day of the five days of Blog Festivus 2013. For Blog Festivus 2013, I’ll be posting a 200-word Christmas story every day this week based on Charles Dickens Christmas Carol. For more details, pop over to Blogdramedy and read all about it!
A Very ‘OMG!! Shut the Hell Up, Girlfriend!‘ Christmas!
OMG!! Shut the hell up, girlfriend! Did I hear you correctly? You’re telling me my boyfriend, Ebenezer Scrooge, is getting me a Christmas gift this year? The original Mr. Cheapskate? What’s that? You have it on good authority! Why that adorable, darling, wonderful Neezy! Who knew he was such a sweetheart? OMG!! I just thought of something, girlfriend! OMG!! It’s an engagement ring, isn’t it, girlfriend? OMG!! What’s that? You can’t tell me? Shut the hell up, girlfriend, of course you can! OMG!! I promise I won’t spill the beans. Ebenezer’s not home now anyways. He’s over at some relative’s house duct taping somebody’s crutch back together. Who’s crutch? Oh, I don’t know, someone named Tiny Tim, I think. Ebenezer broke it trying to fish a penny out of a storm drain! They wanted him to pay for it? Can you imagine my Neezy paying for anything? What’s that? No. I don’t know why they call him Tiny Tim. Maybe he’s a midget or something. Who cares? I’m getting engaged! OMG!! What’s that? Yes, I know you didn’t say it was an engagement ring. But shut the hell up, girlfriend! It’s an engagement ring!! OMG!!
“What? An engagement right for moi? Shut the hell up, girlfriend!”
In The Scorpio Races, author Maggie Stiefvater writes, “It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.” Give us the next thirty-three words of this story, as you imagine it. Take it wherever you like, but make it original and make it 33 words exactly.
How Swiss Cheese Got Its Holes
“It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.”
Are you psychic?
Yes. On 11/2/13 a torpedo will blow up the world’s largest block of cheese.
Another psychic message?
No it’s on my calendar: Buy cheese-destroying torpedo, locate world’s largest block of cheese.
One state -of-the- art, cheese- seeking torpedo down one world’s-largest-block-of-cheese to go!
Welcome, Dear Readers, to the Weekend Trifecta Challenge. Today, we are challenged to write 33-word story incorporating the words: Tether, Loft and Crown.
Welcome Dear Readers to the very first edition of What Were We Thinking Eighties. Let’s start with some 1984 crocheting booklets that I was lucky enough to score at the thrift shop yesterday! YES! (Okay, nobody else wanted them, but still!)
Let’s Look Inside Annie’s Pattern Club Newsletter!
Isn’t it inexplicably wonderful?
Annie’s Pattern Club was (or possibly still is) a newsletter where mega-talented crocheters crocheted something original and then sent the pattern to Annie, and she would publish the cream-of-the-crop designs her newsletter.
And as you will see, never have so many people come up with so many crocheted solutions for so many things that were never a problem in the first place. Let’s look at a few, shall we?
Crocheted Football Mitts
“Gosh! I don’t understand it. Billy went to play football with the guys and he didn’t take his Crocheted Football Mitts I made him.” “Well that’s weird, maybe he didn’t want the rest of the players to feel bad because they don’t have a pair of Crocheted Football Mitts.” “You know you’re probably right. I’ll get busy and crochet some mitts for the whole team!”
Church Puppet
Need: Attention Getting Device to Keep Children Focused on Bible Stories. Crocheted Solution: A church puppet, not to be confused the a church pulpit. (Although, a dust cozy for a church pulpit probably would have made it into Annie’s Newsletter too.) But what better way for little children to learn about the bible than through the crocheted lips of this memorable, but-not-in-a-good-way church puppet. Oh sure it might give the little tikes nightmares, but they’ll certainly never forget the experience (no matter how hard they try).
Lil Guy Tie
“Oh no Helen! I can’t find little Billy’s tie anywhere, and we’re going to be late for the formal occasion for which toddler formal attire is required. What ever shall I do?” “Don’t worry, Madge! While you were blabbing on and on just now, I knitted Little Billy a tie, a pair of football mitts and a church puppet.” “Oh Helen I’m blown away! Maybe you could crochet me something to wear to a formal occasion while you’re at it.”
What to wear to a formal occasion in the 80’s
“Here’s some formal attire I knitted for you while you were blowing your nose, Madge. I think it’s perfect for any formal gathering don’t you?” “DO I! I’ll be the talk of the town wearing this outfit, Helen. Thank you!” “You are so welcome, Midge!” “Uh my name’s Madge.” “Yeah whatever. And remember, I’m only loaning you my hat!”
And there you have it Dear Readers, this blogs very first installment of What Were We Thinking Eighties.
Welcome Dear Readers! Well it’s Wednesday again. Unless I somehow went into a parallel universe just as I was making my bed this morning. In which case, I’d like to give a shout out to the “you” in the parallel universe and wish “you” a lovely HorsD’oeuvresday.
But whatever universe you’re in, it’s still time for Friday Fictioneers — which means it’s time to write a 100-word story about the picture below — furnished by our lovely Friday Fictioneer hostess Rochelle Wisoff-Fields at her blog, Addicted to Purple.
Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
One Day Down at the Cannery
The day Irene got a microscope was the day Irene began to loath large and began, instead, to fall hopelessly in love with little.
Nothing escaped Irene’s microscope slide –wood shavings (she loved to whittle), vitamins (she was fit as a fiddle) and even Jello (she was hooked on its wiggle).
Irene often pretended her Cheerios were donuts, and that she was eating them with The Incredible Shrinking Man.
Then one day down at her job at the cannery, she saw him! Mr. Jolligreen Gyant! And just like that, Irene began to loath little and began, instead, to fall hopelessly in love with large.
Welcome Dear Readers! Well it’s Labor Day here in the United States of America! Which means a lot of people get the day off. Nobody knows why and nobody cares why.
Well, Dear Readers, I for one, feel that Labor Day is getting the shaft, and that’s why I have taken the liberty of writing an educational story about Labor Day to create awareness for Labor Day appreciation.
Mummy, Tell Me Again About Labor Day
“Mummy tell me again about Labor Day,” little Tommy Sweatington begged his mother one fine Labor Day morn. For as you know mummy,” little Tommy continued,” ’tis my favorite American Federal holiday of all!
Mummy Sweatington looked upfrom her task of scrubbing the floors of City Hall with a toothbrush and replied, “Tommy! How many times have I told you never to come to City Hall wearing your pajamas!”
Mummy’s harsh words made Tommy’s heart sink and push down on his kidneys in such a way as to make the tears in Tommy’s eyes shoot out at odd trajectories. But then he remembered it was Labor Day, his favorite American Federal holiday and his heart floated back up to it’s proper position and his tears reversed their trajectory and went back into his eyes.
Once his vision cleared, Tommy noticed something very strange. His mother was working! Mummy was working on Labor Day!
“Mummy!” screamed Tommy, don’t you know that in 1882 Matthew MacGuire proposed Labor Day after witnessing a labor festival held in Toronto Canada which eventually led to the observance of my most beloved American Federal Holiday — Labor Day? Mummy, I implore you to tell me why you are working on Labor Day?”
At this, Tommy became agitatedand then Tommy became appalled and finally Tommy became apoplectic — which didn’t last very long — because right after that Tommy went back to being appalled and then merely agitated and by the time his mother looked up to answer his question, Tommy was pretty much back to normal.
“But Tommy Dear,” Mummy Sweatington replied, “I’m not working. Scrubbing the floors of the City Hall is my hobby, silly!”
“But Mummy!”Tommy protested. “Why would you want to have a hobby that requires you to scrub the floors of City Hall with your toothbrush?”
” Tommy darling, you don’t understand. I’m not using my toothbrush to scrub the floors of City Hall, I’m using your toothbrush!”
Hello Dear Readers! Happy Wednesday! The only day of the week that has a hump — giving the rest of the days of the week something to grip onto thus keeping them from flying off into space.
Here’s the prompt picture which will serve as this week’s inspiration for a 100-word story provided by Dawn M. Miller.
Copyright Dawn Miller
Benny Flump’s French
Mademoiselle Bouillabaisse-Bourgeois crossed the lobby of the Eiffel Tower, and all eyes drank of her beauty like they were drinking a tumbler of Chardonnay after eating a 16-inch baguette.
But no eyes drank more than Benny Flump’s. Benny’s eyes were bigger than his stomach when it came to beautiful French women. And Benny thought Mademoiselle Bouillabaisse-Bourgeois the most beautiful creature he had ever pronounced.
They would marry!
At the top of the Eiffel Tower she said “I do.” Benny replied “adieu” and then jumped.
Oh, Benny Flump’s French left a lot to be desired I should have probably said earlier.
Dear Readers! Good News! I am overwhelmed to announce that one brave blogger has stepped up to this blog’s story-writing challenge by using not just one . . . not just two . . . but ALL TEN WRITING PROMPTS! which were presented here yesterday.
Who is this Death-Defying Wordsmith? This Participle-Dangling Daredevil? This Purger of Profundity? (Okay I’ll stop now.)
The Adventures of El Guapo and His Side-kick, Abraham Lincoln
1) Abraham Lincoln was using his axe to prune the Rhododendron. He was doing this because he was grumpy that when he was done he would need to transplant an organ at the church. Then he was grumpy for the sake of being grumpy for the number 2 (2) and no reason besides that.
While it was odd that Abe Lincoln was out doing this kind of work (especially in the 21st century, it really was his own fault. (3) He had shot the gardener, Fats, (Fats had a green thumb.) (Literally, as he was an alien.), in the Skinny part of his throat after Fats told him he could no longer wear the Hideous stove-pipe hat.
He also shot him because Fats had a Tragically awful habit of capitalizing adjectives. It was later that afternoon that Abe realized Fats may have been so skinny due to genetics, or possibly because of a tragic accident. (That was after he saw a (4) steamroller flatten a poor woman from something resembling a Sputnik to something the thickness of a harpsichord.) (The sight almost ruined his lunch. “Oy Vey” he lamented into his tibbs and pickles sandwich at his favorite sandwich shop, They Call Me Mr Tibbs.) (But his appetite came back since he was so tired. Organ transplanting really”takes it out of you”) Editor’s note: Author has been slapped for that awful joke above.
After lunch, Abe went to see his friend (5) Hum Cwart, who he always called Kumquat. Even though Hum wasn’t green or an alien. It’s a sad fact that Hum couldn’t see Abe, or even see that Abe was mispronouncing the name. But that’s another story. The fifth, I believe. Now for those who don’t know, Abe was a statesman, known best for his dealings with the Chinese. Or at least General Tso, and his delightful companions known as (6)Wang-Lang and Lang-Wang.
He never knew their last names because they never used them. Now, as it happens, since they gave up smoking, the Ang-Angs (as Abe called them) became dress makers. They made dresses because they could test them by dancing in them to work off all the nervous energy from not smoking. They made a dress for their dear client (7) Lucy.
As a surprise, her husband Ricky picked it up, and the Ang-Angs told him that even though it was expensive, it was their best dunce dress. Ricky was so angry, and dragged Lucy into the store yelling at her for buying a stupid dress. Realizing the misunderstanding, the Ang-Angs donned the dress (together, for they were very thin), and demonstrated it was a “dance” dress, being careful this time to enunciate. Ricky was so ashamed, but Lucy said the studio audience loved it and off they went. As the Ang-Angs were reminiscing,
Abe interrupted, saying “Something smells rotten in Denmark”. Most people would say that was a euphemism, but Abe was well known for his scenting ability and the prowess of his schnoz. In fact, he had famously versed (8) “The nose knows the woes of those what owes the toes”, which was accepted as very profound by those who had no idea what the hell he was talking about.
What Abe, in fact, would have loved to be talking about was (9) women behind women behind woman, all oiled up. But Abe was shy and didn’t think that kind of talk was appropriate in mixed company, shaken or stirred. So with nothing left to do, (10) Abe mounted his trusty horse, Glue, and headed back to the 1850s to invent the stapler.
For their efforts, I am officially awarding El Guapo and his sidekick, Abraham Lincoln, this hastily made much coveted trophy:
I think you’ll agree that nobody deserves this trophy more than El Guapo — with the possible exception of Abraham Lincoln.
Linda Vernon Humor 