Three Word Thursday #1

Last week I started a new Word game.  I gave you three words and a whole week in which to write a story using those words.  Some of you whined and cried and claimed the words were too tough.  Seven of you grabbed your pencils and started scribbling.  And the incomparable, Dr. John, used all three words all week.

Last week’s words were: cynicocratical (governed by cynical people with cynical ideas);  isangelous (equal to the angels); and volgivagant (commoner; riff-raff; no-account)

And last week’s players were:

  • Lisa — Check the comments for her “story”.
  • Betty — The best story she’s written to date (my opinion)
  • Dr. John — wherein he mocks me
  • Cindy — Uses the words describing a day in her life.
  • Thom — describes Eden.
  • Alice —  talks to her cat
  • Nessa — saves Joan of Arc, sort of.

I want to change things up just a bit.  With people posting whenever, some folks didn’t get anybody coming by to read their stories.  So here are the new rules:

Every Thursday I will give you three new words.  You have until the following Thursday to compose a story using all three of the words.  Then, on that following Thursday, post your story.  After you post, come by here and sign in in the comments.  Then, just like up above, I will put your links up for all to visit.

Got it?  Good!  In that case:  Your story is due on:  February 19th, 2009

This week’s words:

  • fracas
  • numismatics
  • perspicacious

I promise, I looked all three of these words up in the dictionary and/or on the web (using Google Search) and found definitions for them all.  One of these words is new to me.  🙂

An Introduction

If you’d like to meet OC, (also known as Amoeba & O’Ceallaigh) wander over to my photoblog, Quilly Unshuttered, and take a peek at photos #128, #131, & #132.  They are all on the same page, so you won’t have to work to find them.

OC says, I need to find a better model.  I say, my heart has chosen him and I am content.  Besides, my camera seems to like him, too!

#6 — Punny Monday — 2009

three drinking glasses in a stack topped by one drinking glass on its side with the base facing toward the camera.

What noun (thing) does this photo represent? EMAIL your answers and leave a comment designed to either help or confuse your fellow game players.

The first contestant to EMAIL me the right answer wins a featured link in my blog which will display until next Monday when we’ll play this little game again. Enjoy.

PLEASE, do not write your guess in the comments. It spoils the game for the other players. Your guesses will be shared when the game ends.

Winners

February 9th, 2009, 3:13 a.m. — Polona — Eye Glasses

February 9th, 2009, 4:23 a.m. — Melli — Eye Glasses!!!

&

Runners Up

February 9th, 2009, 3:04 a.m. — Polona – Glass Eye

&

Wacky Wild Guessers

February 9th, 2009, 12:46 a.m. — Crazy Cath –Tumble Top; Glass Mountain

February 9th, 2009, 2:58 a.m. — Crazy Cath –Waterfall

February 9th, 2009, 3:01 a.m. — Polona – Glass Tower

February 9th, 2009, 4:23 a.m. — Melli –I Fell Tower; iPod

February 9th, 2009, 4:59 a.m. — Doug – Glass tower, Blown Glass

February 9th, 2009, 5:04 a.m. — ArtsyGEL – Glass Tower; Tumblers;

February 9th, 2009, 5:04 a.m. — ArtsyGEL – Crystalline; Triple Twist

February 9th, 2009, 5:04 a.m. — ArtsyGEL – Glass Menagerie

February 9th, 2009, 5:19 a.m. — ArtsyGEL – glass bottoms; glass tower; crystal tower; water fords; crystal light; turned glass

February 9th, 2009, 5:31 a.m. — Jane – The Odds Are Stacked 3 to 1!

February 9th, 2009, 6:12 a.m. — Raven – One-upmanship

February 9th, 2009, 7:15 a.m. — Carletta – High Ball; Lead Crystal; Bottoms Up

February 9th, 2009, 8:45 a.m. — Doug – Spy Glass; Looking Glass

February 9th, 2009, 11:43 a.m. — ArtsyGEL – bottoms up;  reverse turn; opposite turn; backwards turn; turnstile; twisted tower; reverse stack; reverse order; turntable; upside down; twisted sister !!!
high twist; high turn; high tower; opposite order; askew ; spin stack; highpoint

February 9th, 2009, 4:35 p.m. — Cricket – Windmill

Night Errant

She said, “For my photography class homework this week, I have to take night shots.”

He said, “Too bad you’re in the wrong country for that.”

She said, “What are you talking about?”

He said, “Your homework.  It’s a shame you aren’t in England.”

She, frustrated and confused, “And why would I need to be in England!?”

He, feining innocent confusion,  “I’m sorry, love.  But didn’t you say you need to take Knight shots?”

She bowed her head, covered her face with her hands, and groaned.

He leaned back in his chair grinning, “A little slow tonight, aren’t you, dear?”

Raven’s Wordzzle # 49

Wordzzles are little Word Puzzles gifted to us weekly by Raven at Views From Raven’s Nest.  Raven presents these puzzles in the form of lists, which we must unravel and expand into a story.   Here are my unravelings for the week:

The Ten Word Challenge:

Marjorie lost everything when Wall Street crashed.  Her possessions vanished as though they’d been made of fluffer-doodle and dreams; illusory security.  Almost everything she owned had been repossessed, or confiscated to pay her outstanding bills.  When they repossessed her marble and mahogany dining room set, they even took the cookies and milk she’d set out for her lunch.  They’d left her with nothing but a channel changer to a TV she no longer owned, a chipped ceramic candelabra, and a paperback novel, Lemon Rage, written by that author who’d holed up in the Pine Cone Motel for five years before the mob toasted him.

The Mini Challenge: (nightly news clip)

The Newscaster introduced the film clip with these words, As they carried the bodies from the house, one of the neighbors had this to say: “The war at Ben and Martha Wooten’s house started after every Friday night around 6:00 P.M. when Ben asked Martha how she liked her vodka martini. I’m flabbergasted that Ben kept asking, because Martha always said the same exact thing, “Chimera vodka tastes like it was distilled in sweaty wooden shoes and you know I hate it!” And then Ben would call her a vodka snob, she would call him a cheap drunk and within 20 minutes one of us neighbors would call the cops.

The Vanity Challenge:

Madonna and Barbara Walters, met for lunch in Central Park last Saturday afternoon.  The duo ate at Zeus‘ Hot Dog stand where they were overheard discussing 47 flavors of lipstick, stubborn cellulite, and Arnold Schwartzenagger’s reaction when they approached him to model Napoleon Brand incontinence underpants.  The ladies wanted Schwartzenagger because his name is synonymous with power and masculinity — or it was before the Terminator-Governor was seen running from two petite women while yelling, “Don’t come near me or I’ll call the police!”

If you, too, would like to join Raven’s Wordzzle, you are more than welcome. Here are some guidelines to make the process more fun.

Next Week’s Ten Word Challenge will be: ubiquitous, do you see what I see, getting a word in edgewise, wild goose chase, grandmother of five, Freemasons, Pacific Paradise, everything and nothing, insanity prevails

Mini Challenge: shortening the distance, it’s all about bloggers, the Fortress at Pigeon Falls, finding Pam, a raven’s nest


Introducing Three Word Thursday

So, are you game for another game?  This one will really test your metal.  Every Thursday I will give you three words, which you then have to use to create a story.  You have anytime until the following Thursday to post your story on your own blog, and come back here to let us know you’ve posted.  (Just leave your comment, I’ll take care of the links.)

Sound too easy?  Well, there is one little catch.  There’s a good chance the words I choose, aren’t going to be words you are familiar with.  You may just need to look them up.

This week’s words:

  • cynicocratical
  • isangelous
  • volgivagant

I promise, I looked all three of these words up on the web (using Google Search) and found definitions for them.  I also promise that for this week  at least, the words are just as new to me as they are to you.

A Dream Come True

Harvey Castlemeyer was a born day dreamer.  He’d daydreamed his way through the first 47 years of his life, greeting reality only now and then, when forced to by circumstances beyond his control — like getting fired for inattentive behavior.  That had happened far too many times — but no more.  Now he could stop dreaming and start living.  He felt the stiff, paper rectangle in his pocket and couldn’t help but smile.  For once Dora was going to be proud of him.

The car clattered and clanked its way into the driveway.  Harvey had the keys in his pocket and was half way to the front door before the engine quit sputtering.  No matter.  That car wouldn’t be part of his new future.

Usually Harvey went into the house through the backdoor, but he wasn’t wrestling the garage door tonight.  In fact, he thought, maybe I’ll get me one of them fancy garage door openers.  And I can get Nora a big screen TV to watch her soaps.  Smiling big, he opened the front door and stepped into the living room.

His mother-in-law was in her usual position at the end of the couch with her feet on the hassock and an overflowing ashtray in her lap.  “Who said you could use the front door?”  She snapped at him.  “Close it now before I catch my death.”

Harvey almost laughed.  That thought fueled one of his favorite daydreams.

“Harvey?  Harvey Castlemeyer, is that you coming in my front door?”  Dora stomped from the kitchen shaking a wooden spoon and splattering red sauce everywhere.  “First you come home late — I had to start supper! — and then you come in my front door.  What is the matter with you?”

Perhaps for the first time in his life, Harvey looked at his wife as she stood there pointing at him with the wooden spoon in one hand, and the other hand on her cocked hip.  Lips pursed, eyes glaring, toe-tapping, this was not the isangelous woman of his dreams.

“Well,”  she snapped, “Get in here!  My show is coming on in a minute.  You still got dinner to finish, the laundry to do and this house could use a good sweeping.  You’d best get to it.”

Harvey looked around.  The dining room table was buried beneath a tumble of newsprint.  Dirty dishes littered the occasional tables.  Several pairs of his mother-in-law”s socks lay in a heap beside the couch.  It was like waking up from a weird dream, one that made sense, yet didn’t.  Harvey turned to Dora.  “What do you do all day when I’m at work?”  He asked.

Dora puffed up her chest and demanded, “What kind of a question is that?”

Harvey pointed at the dishes, the socks, the newspaper, the tangle of clothing spilling out the laundry room doorway.  “All day while I’ve been at work, you’ve been busy making this mess.  Why should I clean it up?”

In the living room his mother-in-law wrestled her bulk around on the couch.  “What do you mean, ‘Why should you clean it up?’  Dora is delicate.  You know good and well –”

Harvey tuned his mother-in-law’s rants out.  He considered the cynocratic governance of his house, and how it had come to be.  He and Dora been married two years when she miscarried and her mother moved in.  Harvey had been doing the cooking and the cleaning and the hop-to-ing ever since.

He looked at his mother-in-law.  He looked at his wife.  He slipped his hand into his pocket and caressed his future.

“What are you waiting for?”  Dora snapped.  “You heard my mother.  I’m anemic and not healthy enough for physical labor.  The doctor said so.”

“That was twenty-two years and about a hundred pounds ago,” Harvey said.

“Oh!”  Dora let out a wail an ran from the room.

“Go after her, you dolt!”  His mother-in-law ordered.  “You’ve hurt her feelings!”  Harvey saw it all for the play it was.  He’d fallen for it again and again over the years.  He would start to question, and they would manipulate him back into line.  He bent down and picked up the sauce covered spoon his wife had dropped on the dining room floor, and handed it to his mother-in-law as he passed her on his way out of the house.

Harvey walked to the bus stop and caught a Trailways Bus to Vegas where he got a job washing dishes in a casino kitchen.  During what he now considers his final six weeks as a volgivagant, Harvey slept in a flop-house and laid low.  Then,  on the very last day of that sixth week, Harvey filed for divorce, giving the house, the car, and all their worldly possessions to Dora.  Within hours after the signed and notarized degree arrived in his mailbox, Harvey cashed in the lottery ticket and moved to Mazatlan.

Sun, sand and surf had always featured in Harvey’s favorite day dreams, but now sometimes when he sits on the beach he dreams of Dora or her momma scrubbing some rich woman’s floors for minimum wage, then coming home at night too tired to watch that big screen TV he’d sent them as a parting gift.

by Charlene L. Amsden

~ * ~

Other Three Word Thursday Participants

Lisa (Check the comments for her “story”.)

Betty (If you need “in context” help, check here!)

Dr. John (wherein he mocks me,
& proves my response to his comment on this post!)

Cindy (Uses the words describing a day in her life.)

Thom (describing Eden).

Alice (who talks to her cat)

Alphabet Photo Challenge

A few words before you enjoy the challenge:

She said, while stomping around with a camera in her hand
and a frown on her face,  “I need an F!”

He looked at her like she was crazy and said,
“That should be easy, hon.  Just don’t do your homework this week.”

Melli, our hostess with the mostest, presents:

The ALPHABET PHOTO CHALLENGE

Week Three: E & F

The garden hose, just the way OC left it — and I clearly see an e, but I figured somebody would grouse, so:

A capitol E to go with.  Pft!

.

The F made a surprise appearance on OC’s bike.

And for those of you needing help seeing my vision:

I Haz Oucheez

I was assaulted by a tile floor. Armed with a puddle of water, it forced me to tap dance, then launched itself at me in a full body slam. It tried to attack my camera, too, but I sacrificed my left hand to save it.

Inventory of oucheez:

Left hand, et al.
Left ankle & foot
Right knee
Right hip
Right elbow
Right shoulder
Ribcage at sternum

Fortunately, my whine is intact and working at optimal levels.