Up and Cumming: Work In Progress

Y'know, my one non-five vote on Frankenstien was because someone decided they didn't like the main character. If this next one hits Lit, people are going to simply hate him. Hell, I almost hate him, and he's part of me.

*sigh*

Q_C
 
I have:

a quick and dirty stroke piece that needs about two - three hours to finish.

a dragon story that needs a couple of days work

a Letters & Transcripsts thingy that I just started

and a novel that seems to be neverending.

I'm horrible. :eek:
 
Snippet from Kazoo Conundrum...working title

...

Violet's back from She Had Had Enough. Mid life crisis has spurned on a trip...and oh what a trip!
...

Quite frankly, it was the kazoo that started the entire mess. It had been her passion, her reason for being. There was simply nothing quite like the vibration of that smooth metal tube pressed to her plump, supple lips that brought her a small slice of nirvana. Even as she thought about the simplistic instrument, strains of its haunting melodies filtered through her mind.

Vern, her itinerant husband of the past 20 years, had left her for a mouth harp player not long after their 11th child was born. She couldn’t fault him; the mouth harp was very seductive. It was very clear that Vern loved Varicose and they both were decent to the kids. How could Violet be anything but supportive?

The children they had had were solace in their way, but being alone in the cruel town of Nowank, Kansas, left a bitter taste in her mouth. Vale, Vaginismus, Verbophobia, Vern jr., Vitiligo, Varicella, Vertigo, Valentine, Valhalla, Vulva and Venereal were all exceptional children.
...

it'll be a while before i finish this but she meets and falls for a guy...Vas, Vas Deferens, a Jamaican Ukulele player.
 
vella_ms said:
...

Violet's back from She Had Had Enough. Mid life crisis has spurned on a trip...and oh what a trip!
...

Quite frankly, it was the kazoo that started the entire mess. It had been her passion, her reason for being. There was simply nothing quite like the vibration of that smooth metal tube pressed to her plump, supple lips that brought her a small slice of nirvana. Even as she thought about the simplistic instrument, strains of its haunting melodies filtered through her mind.

Vern, her itinerant husband of the past 20 years, had left her for a mouth harp player not long after their 11th child was born. She couldn’t fault him; the mouth harp was very seductive. It was very clear that Vern loved Varicose and they both were decent to the kids. How could Violet be anything but supportive?

The children they had had were solace in their way, but being alone in the cruel town of Nowank, Kansas, left a bitter taste in her mouth. Vale, Vaginismus, Verbophobia, Vern jr., Vitiligo, Varicella, Vertigo, Valentine, Valhalla, Vulva and Venereal were all exceptional children.
...

it'll be a while before i finish this but she meets and falls for a guy...Vas, Vas Deferens, a Jamaican Ukulele player.
Vas Deferens, lmao. :D
I like your working title, btw.
 
OhMissScarlett said:
Vas Deferens, lmao. :D
I like your working title, btw.
well, thank you vera much, gorgeous.
its lovely to be insane sometimes.
now, im just having a bit of a hard time working the chapstick/alien conspiracy theory into the plot...but its begun!
 
vella_ms said:
well, thank you vera much, gorgeous.
its lovely to be insane sometimes.
now, im just having a bit of a hard time working the chapstick/alien conspiracy theory into the plot...but its begun!
I knew Suzy Chapstick was a fucking alien! :eek:
 
OhMissScarlett said:
I knew Suzy Chapstick was a fucking alien! :eek:
it all started with a misguided anal probe and the need for lube.
...suzy was never the same.
 
OhMissScarlett said:
That's why she was always smiling.
she was until she chipped a tooth on a particular alien outing. very haphazard, those aliens. what i wanna know is why its so odd to give a vibrator a blow job.
 
vella_ms said:
she was until she chipped a tooth on a particular alien outing. very haphazard, those aliens. what i wanna know is why its so odd to give a vibrator a blow job.
Unless it looks like the floor sander over on Imp's antique sex toys thread, I'd say blow away. :)
 
OhMissScarlett said:
:nana: I will admire your dedication while I stare at this blank page. :)


Normally it comes like this on a single work, tongiht it's working no matter what I open. Time to make coffee, When itleaves again I'll be depressed at all I didn't get done :)
 
OhMissScarlett said:
:nana: I will admire your dedication while I stare at this blank page. :)
ditto in spades
whilst i re-write the opening sentence on my next story 5squillion times.
 
vella_ms said:
ditto in spades
whilst i re-write the opening sentence on my next story 5squillion times.
Ah yes, I can sympathize, as I have rewritten my first paragraph a kazillion times myself. This is its current state:
Charlie didn’t dance. It seemed like such a small thing at first, but as small things often do, after four years of marriage, it came to disturb me greatly. How anyone who had been a young adult in the sixties would not dance, was beyond me. On a long list of eccentricities, this was by far the most reasonable of them all, but it gnawed at me nonetheless.
*snore*
 
Charlie didn’t dance. It seemed like such a small thing at first, but as small things often do, after four years of marriage, it came to disturb me greatly. How anyone who had been a young adult in the sixties would not dance, was beyond me. On a long list of eccentricities, this was by far the most reasonable of them all, but it gnawed at me nonetheless.

Charlie didn't dance. Fucktard!


hows that?
 
People who don't dance are fucked up.

People who don't like the Beatles have head problems.
 
My path to enlightenment taught me to see the world in a different way. I decided to accept my fat and be one with it. It was only natural. If I put on a few pounds over the summer I would tell people I’m storing up my fat for winter. It worked for bears it should work for me. Then again no one is going to tell a bear it has a fat ass.
There is much we can learn by observing wildlife. We can learn how to conserve our resources, how to build homes and dams, how to rear our young and how to use protective colorization to hide. I conserve energy by using as little of it as possible so incase I get locked in a closet or basement I can live off my body fat indefinitely. Protective colorization should be used wisely. An example would be to not go to the circus in vertical stripes, you could be mistaken for the Big Top’s offspring. Wearing a white shirt and black pants to a restaurant is also a bad idea because you will be mistaken for a waiter.
Some animals cover themselves with found objects to avoid detection. You can also do this. When you have that big report due and you are falling behind and the boss is on his way to your office cover yourself with papers and office supplies while lying on your desk. You can also stand in the corner with a jacket over your head and pretend you are a coat hanger. When in doubt or in case of emergency you should scurry into the nearby bushes like a small animal.
There are also a variety of defense mechanisms you can copy. There was a catbird that had a nest in a nearby tree located along our backyard. Whenever my mother would go to hang out the laundry this bird would come out screeching and dive-bombing her. We called it the bitch bird. The bitch bird was very wise indeed because she was protecting what was hers. This can be applied to humans as well. When someone is invading your territory come out of nowhere bitching. Since flying at them is not possible I suggest throwing objects small enough to sting but not cause any permanent damage. Protect what is yours.
Other methods you can use are making a deep growling noise when someone gets too close, especially if you are possessing baked goods or candy. Baring your teeth is also good. Try to make yourself look as large and fearsome as possible. Puff out your chest and let your arms hang to your sides, muss up your hair. If you look dangerous they will back down. Be dominant.
Traveling in packs is also acceptable. This comes in handy when in large stores or malls. Send one member of the pack out on a scouting mission then you can divide and conquer. Imagine this scenario, you are all at the mall, there is a rack of your favorite designer’s blouses on sale. You see the blouse you want but there is a woman looking at it, first two of the pack go in and distract her by telling her some bullshit story about the blouses being made in sweatshops by blind and lame children in some third world country. If this doesn’t work they must convince her it will look terrible on her, once her attention is diverted the Alpha female strikes and snatches away the blouse. Remember the raptors in Jurassic Park? Be the raptor.
There is a lot to be said by studying our animal friends. We can be safe and comfortable in our nests or dens. We can be industrious building dams and cities. At times we can even be solitary and reclusive like Bigfoot. I could never understand the big fuss over him. People are able to run off and disappear without too much of a trace, why can’t an 8-foot, hairy, smelly man-ape or a gigantic water monster? I don’t doubt the word of anyone who has witnessed anything such as Bigfoot or Nessie. Some people see ghosts or aliens or other unexplainable things, I don’t doubt their word either. I do wonder why trailer dwellers and half-wits only do so many sightings of such things when the story hits the news.
 
“Lose the shoes.”

It’s the little differences that sticks. Tiny little variations on what is common behaviour in otherwise seemingly similar cultures. Some of them you see immediately, like the left handed traffic and almost perverted obsession with roundabouts in Britain. Or the way your lunch spins backward when you hurl it up and flush it down in Australia, although I'd have to work pretty hard to tag that phenomena to some Oz national trait. Others are more subtle, because you don’t encounter them 24/7. But they are equally confusing. Like shoes in Iceland. Apparently, you don’t wear the things.

That's what I 've got so far.

Now what?
 
my latest posted today...Exploring A Bare Frontier


in progress I have the bare beginnings with a man about to meet the first woman he's been nervous about in a long time: a reunion piece about old lovers reunited by his return to his roots and I have just ideas about revisiting some old characters to see what they have been up to in my absence...
 
Mental constipation, how I hate you! Churning and bubbling and nothing's coming out ...

In the works:

-Teacher's Pet novel, stuck dead on the 9th chapter.
-Stroke/BDSM short inspired by SnoopDog's bitchy roommate. Came along nicely until time for the bondage scene, then stopped short.
-Slightly twisted stroke/lesbian/self-indulgent-fanasies type piece. Stuck on dialogue of all things!

BLLAAAHHHHH!!!! :mad:
 
Working on a romance, love lost and found novel/novella that still needs a lot of work.

Here's about the only piece that doesn't scream at me for heavy editing.



Over dessert, his mother couldn’t resist another one of her favorite subjects. “Now that you’re home again, maybe you should meet a nice girl, and get over that bitch Letizia who broke my son’s heart.”

‘Dammit, why’d she always find a way to bring that up? She knows how much it pisses me off!’

Emilio still did not like where he knew the conversation was headed, so he did his best to bring it to a halt. “Mom, please don’t refer to her as a bitch. I loved her, so your saying that only hurts me, not her. If you want to curse someone, curse her old man. I am over her now, and I realize it could never have worked out, but that doesn’t mean I can erase the memories.

“And please don’t play matchmaker for me. I know you mean well, but we tried that a couple of times and it didn’t work. Don’t get me wrong, I know they were very nice girls and will be wonderful wives someday, just not mine. Do you want me to get married for the wrong reason and end up divorced five years later, paying alimony and child support? I’m not ready to settle down. I just started this new job and it’s going to be hell on my schedule for a while.”

Emilio breathed a little easier now that he gotten that off his chest. It pained him to look at his mother, her eyes filling with tears. He knew what he had said had been hurtful, but also knew that it had been necessary if he was going to get on with his life. He glanced at his father and unexpectedly found him smiling, inwardly pleased at the man his son was becoming.

“I just want you to be happy,” said his mother in a creaking voice.

“I never said you didn’t, mom,” he replied and then, in what he was certain he would regret in the future, but would ameliorate his current predicament, he added, “Besides today I met this girl, or rather, woman I should say.”

“Really?” She smiled and her crinkling eyes forced a tear down her cheek that was quickly wiped away with her napkin. “What’s her name?”

“Judy.”

“How did you meet her?”

“She works for one of my clients. She’s a designer.”

“Is she Italian?”

“No.”

“Is she Catholic?”

“I don’t know, mom. I forgot bring an application with me today.”

His father suddenly gave a quick burst of laughter. “Christmas, Maria! Emilio just met the girl and you’re giving him the third degree already! Didn’t you hear what he just said?”

“I’m sorry; I’ll try not to pry into your love life so much. Just tell me one thing. Are you going on a date with her?”

“Maybe. I told her I’d call her after I checked with my friends on their plans. I know they were going to arrange some sort of welcome back dinner and get Yankee tickets. As soon as I know all that, I’ll call her.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Maria! You said one more question and Emilio answered it. That’s enough!”

“Thanks, dad,” said Emilio. “Mom, if and when there’s anything to tell you, I will.”
 
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