The Return of Talking Time

Go Back   The Return of Talking Time > Talking about other things > Talking about creating

Reply
 
Thread Tools Display Modes
  #31  
Old 06-15-2011, 04:46 PM
Alex Scott's Avatar
Alex Scott Alex Scott is offline
Better be the real thing.
 
Join Date: Jul 2007
Posts: 5,935
Default

And we have a majority. You're all working from the same pool! To review:

BEAT: A NOTEBOOK FULL OF INSANITY
Falselogic: A cup of coffee gone cold
PapillonReel: A magic lamp
Rosewood: Mercury
Pombar: A blind shopkeeper/store manager
Nyarlathotep: Witnesses failing to report a crime
caviar.n.cigarettes: A well chewed piece of gum, still being chewed despite its lack of flavor
Prinnydood: A feral child
bobbywatson: A weird collecting habit

Everybody has until Midnight, June 30/July 1 to write a 1000-word story with these plot elements, plus an alphabetical paragraph.

Now go! Write! Write till your fingers fall off!
Reply With Quote
  #32  
Old 06-15-2011, 05:14 PM
Prinnydood's Avatar
Prinnydood Prinnydood is offline
Promoted to Gabby Jay
 
Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: Orlando, Florida
Posts: 4,510
Default

I'm currently swirling things around in my head and these elements aren't as challenging to fit in as the last round, excluding BEAT's and my own. I'm not sure what to make of that.
Reply With Quote
  #33  
Old 06-15-2011, 06:00 PM
Alex Scott's Avatar
Alex Scott Alex Scott is offline
Better be the real thing.
 
Join Date: Jul 2007
Posts: 5,935
Default

Not too surprising. I basically wrote my last story just by describing the Writing Circle to a guy I know. "So, for example, I've got this guy with bad body odor who lives in a tenement, finds a dead mouse, and finds out there's a torture chamber he needs a keycard to enter, and maybe I should stop."

Oh, what's that? Seems a famous author has come to wish us luck! Who could it be?


I'd have gotten here sooner, but I dropped my Nobel Prize at the bull fight. Good luck, everybody. And call me Papa.
Reply With Quote
  #34  
Old 06-27-2011, 01:52 PM
Alex Scott's Avatar
Alex Scott Alex Scott is offline
Better be the real thing.
 
Join Date: Jul 2007
Posts: 5,935
Default

Just a reminder that submissions are due Midnight this Thursday/Friday!

I'll try to have another Encouraging Author Percy up soon.
Reply With Quote
  #35  
Old 06-27-2011, 03:29 PM
Prinnydood's Avatar
Prinnydood Prinnydood is offline
Promoted to Gabby Jay
 
Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: Orlando, Florida
Posts: 4,510
Default

This is going to be a photo finish for me as I'm going on vacation tomorrow. I'm not sure if I'll have reliable access to the Internet or not.
Reply With Quote
  #36  
Old 06-27-2011, 05:12 PM
Falselogic's Avatar
Falselogic Falselogic is offline
Threadcromantosaurus Rex
 
Join Date: Aug 2007
Location: Falselogic Sucks
Pronouns: they/they
Posts: 32,682
Default

Bowing out. Personal life has been too crazy and will continue to be crazy for the foreseeable future.

Sorry all.
Reply With Quote
  #37  
Old 06-28-2011, 10:16 AM
BEAT's Avatar
BEAT BEAT is offline
'SUP NERDS.
 
Join Date: Jun 2007
Location: SKELETON HELL.
Pronouns: DUDE/BRO
Posts: 23,957
Default

Tonight I'm going straight home from work and just smashing this thing out.

Smashing, I say!
Reply With Quote
  #38  
Old 06-28-2011, 10:27 AM
caviar.n.cigarettes's Avatar
caviar.n.cigarettes caviar.n.cigarettes is offline
Baroness Kika
 
Join Date: Mar 2011
Location: Not the Duluth you are thinking of
Posts: 161
Default

So I'm not the only one who's procrastinated the hell out of this? Rawk!

...I mean...I'm doing so well. I'm almost done. I'm not a procrastinator...not at all!
Reply With Quote
  #39  
Old 06-28-2011, 10:44 AM
Prinnydood's Avatar
Prinnydood Prinnydood is offline
Promoted to Gabby Jay
 
Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: Orlando, Florida
Posts: 4,510
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by caviar.n.cigarettes View Post
So I'm not the only one who's procrastinated the hell out of this? Rawk!
Are you kidding? (Almost) everyone procrastinates with this. Desperate typing is where I get my inspiration.
Reply With Quote
  #40  
Old 06-28-2011, 11:34 AM
Nyarlathotep's Avatar
Nyarlathotep Nyarlathotep is offline
Crawling Chaos
 
Join Date: Nov 2009
Location: Missoruh
Posts: 1,424
Default

I thought about it quite bit and came up with a premise. Since then, I've picked away at it by about two-hundred words per night. I'll probably still have to rush a bit by the end, but the start I have gives me a solid foothold to work with.
Reply With Quote
  #41  
Old 06-29-2011, 04:57 PM
bobbywatson's Avatar
bobbywatson bobbywatson is offline
Random guy
 
Join Date: Feb 2010
Location: Saguenay, QC, Canada
Posts: 3,129
Default

I've been working on mine almost every evening this week, but the story is going nowhere, and it's going there fast.
Reply With Quote
  #42  
Old 06-29-2011, 10:52 PM
BEAT's Avatar
BEAT BEAT is offline
'SUP NERDS.
 
Join Date: Jun 2007
Location: SKELETON HELL.
Pronouns: DUDE/BRO
Posts: 23,957
Default

Fuck I'm running late and the next few days are jam packed for me.

If it goes up on sunday it goes up on sunday.
Reply With Quote
  #43  
Old 06-30-2011, 08:35 AM
Rosewood's Avatar
Rosewood Rosewood is offline
The metal babble flees!
 
Join Date: Jan 2009
Location: California, Land of Sea and Fire
Pronouns: she/her or they/them
Posts: 5,378
Default

I'm also posting my application for membership in the Suck Club.

A few days or one more week? Maybe a holiday will get the brain-juices flowin'.
Reply With Quote
  #44  
Old 06-30-2011, 09:11 AM
Prinnydood's Avatar
Prinnydood Prinnydood is offline
Promoted to Gabby Jay
 
Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: Orlando, Florida
Posts: 4,510
Default

Add me to the Suck Club as well. Vacation is leaving me with no Internet until July 10. As ambitious as it would be to type the whole thing on my phone, it's simply not going to happen.

Last edited by Prinnydood; 06-30-2011 at 09:37 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #45  
Old 06-30-2011, 09:41 AM
Rosewood's Avatar
Rosewood Rosewood is offline
The metal babble flees!
 
Join Date: Jan 2009
Location: California, Land of Sea and Fire
Pronouns: she/her or they/them
Posts: 5,378
Default

I've printed out Alex's post and am taking a notebook with me to Anime Expo. I have a setting and a few elements in place, but, as usual, the thing has no plot....
Reply With Quote
  #46  
Old 06-30-2011, 10:41 AM
Alex Scott's Avatar
Alex Scott Alex Scott is offline
Better be the real thing.
 
Join Date: Jul 2007
Posts: 5,935
Default

Okay. You have through the 4th of July to finish.
Reply With Quote
  #47  
Old 06-30-2011, 10:55 AM
PapillonReel's Avatar
PapillonReel PapillonReel is offline
Bug/Flying
 
Join Date: Oct 2007
Location: Edmonton, AB
Posts: 10,539
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by Alex Scott View Post
Okay. You have through the 4th of July to finish.
Hooray!
Reply With Quote
  #48  
Old 07-04-2011, 07:05 AM
bobbywatson's Avatar
bobbywatson bobbywatson is offline
Random guy
 
Join Date: Feb 2010
Location: Saguenay, QC, Canada
Posts: 3,129
Default The box

Quote:
The Box
by bobbywatson
Terry grabbed the coffee mug on his desk, brought it to his mouth and took a sip. It was disgusting. It was cold. How long had the coffee been on his desk? He looked at his watch. Was it really already 10? He rose up, walked out of his cubicle. He noticed that he was the last person in the office. Again. He went back to his desk, took the mug, walked to the restroom and dumped what was left of he coffee in the sink. He rinsed the cup. It was time to go.
As he was getting out of his Mercury Sable, he noticed the newspaper in the box next to the door of his house. He grabbed it while unlocking the door and got in. Inside, he noticed the nice smell of fresh banana bread Laura had cooked earlier. Terry put the paper on the dining room table, took off his shoes, and walked to the fridge.
He turned on the TV and switched to the CBC news channel. The news anchor was enumerating all the catastrophes that had happened during that day. Terry did not listen. He was eating a slice of banana bread while flipping through the pages of the newspaper. A title caught his attention: "Feral Child Found". That was original. Apparently the child, a girl aged five, had been found in northern Ontario, near a small town. She was not able to speak and had been transferred to a hospital, where she was being treated. Terry wondered how she had managed to survive, naked in the Canadian winter. Scientists were apparently quite excited to finally be able to study a real feral child. Too bad for the kid, ending her life as a lab rat...
He was about to throw the newspaper in the recycle bin when Laura walked into the kitchen. She was wearing her night dress. It looked like she had just woken up. "Hey sweetie", did she say. "Hi, honey. What are you doing up?"
"When did you get here?"
"Not too long ago. Why?"
"Are you hungry? I can heat up some of the leftovers from dinner"
"I'm good, don't worry. I could do that myself, you know."
"I know. It's just that..."
Terry understood. She had been feeling down for a while now, ever since she had lost her job. She wanted to feel useful again. Terry had told here time and time again that she had nothing to feel ashamed of, but somehow that had never worked with Laura.
"How did the job search go?"
"Not well. I printed a bunch of resumes this morning and dropped a few in some stores downtown, but nothing so far."
She opened the fridge's door, grabbed a slice of banana bread. She split it in two and handed one half to Terry. "There's something on your mind," Terry said. "What is it?"
"There was this weird antique store. You know, the one with the blind shopkeeper?"
"Lady Irma's Antiques? Yeah, we've been there before."
"I stopped by to drop my resume, but then I remembered that she could not read it. So instead, I started to browse. I got you a little something..." She pointed to a box on the counter, next to the sink. Terry opened it.
Aircraft safety cards. A whole bunch of them. He took one out of the box. Pan Am!
"You're kidding, right?" said Terry, a big smile on his face.
"Nope. All Pan Am safety cards in mint condition. I knew you did not have any in your collection. Well, now you do. The shopkeeper said it covers all of their aircrafts. I never thought someone other than you would be collecting that sort of stuff. It was pretty cheap, too. I think the shopkeeper was quite happy to get rid of them."
Amazing! He hugged and kissed her many times. She started giggling. "Glad you like them. I know you've been looking for that kind of stuff for years... It was the only one, though. I looked around and could not find any other box."
"Did the store keeper say who brought that in? I would be curious to know who it was."
"I did not ask."
***
Terry left work early the following day, pretexting a violent headache that extra strenght Tylenol could not cure. He was not sure if his boss bought it or not, but he did not really care. He spit out the gum that he had been chewing before he climbed in his car, as the flavor had run out long, long ago.
The store with the blind shop keeper was downtown, next to the public library. He parked in front of it. The shop keeper welcomed him when he entered. "Good afternoon sir, welcome to Lady Irma's Antiques". The welcoming formula was most certainly an antique. Terry thought it was charming. Terry walked to the counter. "Hi. My wife bought a box with aircraft safety cards in it. Do you remember who brought it in?"
"I remember. A gentleman sold me this about a year ago. Can't remember his name. I hear he is in prison now," did the old woman reply.
"Prison? What did he do?"
"He was a witness to a crime he did not report and did not help the victim, or so I hear."
"Did he sell anything else to you at that time?"
"Aside from a journal his great grandmother had written, no, I'm afraid not."
"What kind of journal? Do you still have it?"
"No, I sold it a few days later to a shrink. Apparently, that book was so full of insane stuff that the shrink wanted to study it further and use it for a post-doctorate or something. The gentlemen also sold me a lamp that he claimed was magical. I tried it."
"Did it work?"
"I'm still blind and old, so I'm going to say 'no'."
Disappointed, Terry thanked her and exited the store. He walked back to his car and drove toward his house.
Oh well, it had been worth a shot. He could always see if he could find the guy online. They had internet access in jail, right? Any everybody and their dog was on Facebook and/or Twitter these days.
Well, that was pointless. Sorry about that.

Last edited by bobbywatson; 07-19-2011 at 07:31 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #49  
Old 07-04-2011, 04:18 PM
Nyarlathotep's Avatar
Nyarlathotep Nyarlathotep is offline
Crawling Chaos
 
Join Date: Nov 2009
Location: Missoruh
Posts: 1,424
Default

My story is done, but I'm trapped without internet in Kentucky until tomorrow. I'm sorry, guys, I didn't relize just how devoid of technology this place was.
Reply With Quote
  #50  
Old 07-05-2011, 08:42 AM
Alex Scott's Avatar
Alex Scott Alex Scott is offline
Better be the real thing.
 
Join Date: Jul 2007
Posts: 5,935
Default

Guys, seriously. I know we just passed a major holiday weekend, but if we don't have any more entries in the next few days I'm stopping the round so we can vote between bobbywatson and Nyarlathotep.
Reply With Quote
  #51  
Old 07-06-2011, 08:19 AM
bobbywatson's Avatar
bobbywatson bobbywatson is offline
Random guy
 
Join Date: Feb 2010
Location: Saguenay, QC, Canada
Posts: 3,129
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by Alex Scott View Post
Guys, seriously. I know we just passed a major holiday weekend, but if we don't have any more entries in the next few days I'm stopping the round so we can vote between bobbywatson and Nyarlathotep.
Everyone is probably busy recovering from Monday's drinking parties...
Reply With Quote
  #52  
Old 07-10-2011, 01:35 PM
Alex Scott's Avatar
Alex Scott Alex Scott is offline
Better be the real thing.
 
Join Date: Jul 2007
Posts: 5,935
Default

Okay, I've given it some thought, and I've decided to make a new deadline: two weeks from today -- Sunday, July 24. Same rules and elements apply. If anyone has bowed out, now's your chance to rejoin.
Reply With Quote
  #53  
Old 07-10-2011, 01:39 PM
Prinnydood's Avatar
Prinnydood Prinnydood is offline
Promoted to Gabby Jay
 
Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: Orlando, Florida
Posts: 4,510
Default

Awesome. I just got back from vacation so I'll be able to work on mine.
Reply With Quote
  #54  
Old 07-11-2011, 12:24 PM
Pombar's Avatar
Pombar Pombar is offline
Curious Young Gent
 
Join Date: May 2008
Location: Beijing
Posts: 9,673
Default

Yeah, sorry about delay on my part too, I had a big internet outage for a while back there, and then had to deal with end-of-exams immediately followed by travelling through hostels without my computer. Time to get back on this.
Reply With Quote
  #55  
Old 07-11-2011, 04:10 PM
bobbywatson's Avatar
bobbywatson bobbywatson is offline
Random guy
 
Join Date: Feb 2010
Location: Saguenay, QC, Canada
Posts: 3,129
Default

Cool, I might go back and review my entry then, because it needs it.
Reply With Quote
  #56  
Old 07-13-2011, 10:07 PM
Nyarlathotep's Avatar
Nyarlathotep Nyarlathotep is offline
Crawling Chaos
 
Join Date: Nov 2009
Location: Missoruh
Posts: 1,424
Default

Daniel Markowski stared at the reversed lettering painted between two thin layers of glass announcing to all of Centennial Street that this was Merconon’s Antiques, Merconon himself standing behind the beat-to-shit, mahogany-stained Formica-glass box of his counter. To his right there were a dozen high price artifacts made vaguely valuable components put together so artlessly that one for got their base materials—silver, copper, an eight karat chunk of gold molded into something like teeth, a supposedly magic lamp made of real bronze—could have either beauty or value. To his left were painted steel shelves covered in wooden novelties in near perpetual motion, necks pivoting on their forty-five degree metronomic duties or seemingly on the with swords raised on the verge of a strike.

Behind all of those, though, was a metal door so small Daniel had to duck to get through it. That was where Merconon kept the real collector’s items. Old paintings by suicidal frontiersmen, pistols with pearl handles (which he didn’t have the license to sell), and other bits of old Americana. These formed a dustless nation in his back room along with roughly five tons of old paper-work.

To say Richard Merconon’s files were disorganized would be a bit like saying wonderland was a bit weird. It captured the basic concept, but the volume and density of the mess were things that needed to be witness. Pages of unfiled tax returns, receipts, personal notes, bills, and mad ramblings from his notebooks formed chaotic wood pulp geometry in origami patterns on the end of the room opposite the door. This was the monster’s layer for Daniel’s employment. Every day he came to rifle through the sheaves of untamed paper which had crept like ivy across the office, slowly choking the walls and floor. That Thursday was like so many of the others: in, read, walk between back room stock and the office, read old documents to Merconon.

After a particularly odious transaction with a woman whose face was so heavily canvassed in makeup that she looked more embalmed than embellished, Daniel set a tentative focus to the filing cabinet in the back corner of Merconon’s papermaze. After shuffling vertically hanging folders which clung to the edges of the cabinet’s bottom drawer, he came across a black leather-bound notebook in good condition bearing the signature of “Dick Merconon” on its inside cover. Flipping through the pages, one could get a sense of Merconon’s general health. The handwriting slowly deteriorated as his mind and sight left him and words gradually became like child scribbles. The first few pages contained a series of poems, all expressed in the shaky hand of a man who is not yet sure of his own abilities. On the third page he wrote about wax boats whose masts were wicks which burned violently in human storms, all the sort of thing expected of twenty-somethings with new journals, and Daniel spent a moment trying to decide if the boat was a metaphor for war or love.

Delving further, the pages seemed to split between poems and journal entries. Halfway through, they even began intertwining as Merconon gave up his rhyming penchant in favor of hyper-realism-prose poems. He described women in the detail that only a truly lonely voyeur can. Lips, thighs, nails, eyes, weight, hair, faces were chronicled in the methodic manner of an assembly line worker.

Ten minutes passed before Daniel realized he wasn’t being paid to go through an old man’s diary (though he could have gotten away with it easily enough), and he put the journal in the inside pocket of his jacket. He was continuously aware of the book’s weight against his left breast, but he managed to make it through the day without giving any major signs of unease. He had given up smoking a year before and had, since we can never truly go without filling the void left by one habit with another, taken up gum-chewing as a substitute. He chewed his current stick furiously so that it lost its flavor after a few minutes, but he chewed it anyway if only to keep his mouth shut. He thought if he said anything not prescribed in the office’s records he might let something slip.

He didn’t have to work hard at that, though; Merconon was infamous for his vision. Some light and blurry silhouettes may have filtered in through those milk-drenched ocular cavities, but they weren’t good for much beyond dodging particularly large oncoming traffic.

When he arrived home he took his scarf, and hat and coat to the couch and, after removing the notebook, dropped the clothes unceremoniously. He tried to focus on reading, but the cold had worked itself into his knuckles, and his fingers ached even at the turn of a page. His old mercury thermometer on the back window of his apartment (paid for, in large part, by his parents, even when he was employed and not busy with schoolwork) read twenty-three Fahrenheit. That night, he read in bed, selecting pages randomly. In an entry not long before the senility crept into Merconon’s pen Daniel read “Haven’t thought about him much. Not even at all, I guess. I think I should feel worse about it than I do, really.” He flipped back three pages, skipping several poems, a few uninteresting entries and a list of “Best American Artists,” to a previous entry from two weeks prior. There was a small rhyme about burning wheat fields and how the ruby embers complimented the golden stalks. Below that:

“...got rid of him.” “…I helped deliver…” “I took it out on the highway, but I lost my guts” “…Oedipal…” “…she won’t do anything.”

Going back a few more pages took him back several months. Apparently Merconon hadn’t felt like or been able to update frequently in that time:

“…don’t know what she planned on doing with it.” “…still worried about the others, but I’m don’t think they’ll tell.”

He found where the updates began to become irregular:

“I just can’t remember it. I’ve tried, but I can’t.” There were a number of pen marks next to these words which were etched into the page. On the page before it:

“She said I forced myself, and I was certain she lied, but now Jack and Ian are supporting her. They said that they didn’t see me, but they saw something happening, and that I was the only other person there, so who else could have done it?” “The whole night is hazy.”

And the day before that:

“Something happened to Lucy. Ian and Jack are visiting her now, but I’m afraid to see her. They said it was bad and that they’re not sure what happened to her.”

Several lines down:

“It was bad.”

Daniel closed the book.

Holy shit, I’m working for a rapist. I’m working for a rapist who forced a girl to throw out her child. Jesus-fucking-Christ. I don’t know if I can even look at the guy, let stand around talking to him for seven hours every weekday.

He flipped back to the pages following the entry about forgetting the child, but found only poetry. The intervals between dates were longer. He closed the book and took two sleeping pills. He didn’t want to think about Merconon anymore, didn’t want to think about permanent damage to a woman’s body or psyche how she might never be able to walk strait or think about anything other than her unending pain and merciless psychic punishment, and didn’t want to think that these thoughts would be constants as long as he remained employed at Merconon’s Antiques.

He had deep sleep, no dreams.

Because of his early sleep he woke at six the next morning. Considering that the pills’ residue remained in his head, he was surprisingly functional enough plan his next moves. Daniel would go in as if nothing happened. Exactly: Nothing had happened. Files irrelevant to the business had been very temporarily moved. Granting that they made their way back to their place only he and God would ever have any suspicions. He would then give an excuse for why he needed to leave, take care of the formalities, get the hell out and never look back. Ignite the bridges and be gone forever.

But that didn’t happen.

He did go into Merconon’s Antiques but, rather than a welcome and the usual offer of lukewarm coffee which tasted a bit like partially-filtered swamp water, he was greeted by silence. Merconon was not in his usual position, glaring out without seeing into the distance beyond his backwards name in the store’s glass panes. No, in fact the store seemed vacant, although Daniel knew that wasn’t possible since the door was already unlocked, and he had helped to lock it up last night. He had already been nervous and this break from routine did nothing to ease his mind.

He walked between the twenty islands of merchandise, all in gridded alignment, to the back door. It was already cracked, and he could see the paper storm had swelled in his time away from it. He pulled the handle and looked in. Merconon was there in his papers, looking from one to another futilely tears rolling down through the valleys of skin under his eyes and around his mouth. “Where is it?” Daniel paused for that moment. He couldn’t see me, to him, I could be anyone. I could turn around, walk away and he wouldn’t know for sure whether it had been me or a customer.

“Here” Daniel said, taking the journal from the inside of my coat. He took it and pressed it to his forehead, still crying.

“Did you read it?”

“Yes.”

There was silence punctuated by that metronomic click of the moving antiques on the shelves behind them. He held the book to his chest and I watched him for several minutes. When Daniel could no longer take it, he backed out of the doorway, dropped my set of keys on the counter and walked out.

Three days later, they found Merconon’s body on the edge of some forests near the highway north of town. He had frozen to death under a large pine. Daniel though it must have been the same spot which the child was left to the wilderness, and he thought of one last poem from the journal, one about pine cones falling from trees to the flaky earth.
Reply With Quote
  #57  
Old 07-15-2011, 09:42 PM
Rosewood's Avatar
Rosewood Rosewood is offline
The metal babble flees!
 
Join Date: Jan 2009
Location: California, Land of Sea and Fire
Pronouns: she/her or they/them
Posts: 5,378
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by Alex Scott View Post
Okay, I've given it some thought, and I've decided to make a new deadline: two weeks from today -- Sunday, July 24. Same rules and elements apply. If anyone has bowed out, now's your chance to rejoin.
I had half-finished my story before going on a week's vacation, and am back now, so I'd better get crackin'!

"Feral child." mutter mutter
Reply With Quote
  #58  
Old 07-19-2011, 06:38 AM
Nyarlathotep's Avatar
Nyarlathotep Nyarlathotep is offline
Crawling Chaos
 
Join Date: Nov 2009
Location: Missoruh
Posts: 1,424
Default

So, hows about them stories?
Reply With Quote
  #59  
Old 07-19-2011, 07:32 AM
bobbywatson's Avatar
bobbywatson bobbywatson is offline
Random guy
 
Join Date: Feb 2010
Location: Saguenay, QC, Canada
Posts: 3,129
Default

Finally sat down and reviewed what I had. It's not great, but since I'm going to be away until next week without access to a real computer (the iPad does not count), I figured I should just use what I have. It's not great, but it will do.
Reply With Quote
  #60  
Old 07-19-2011, 10:53 AM
Prinnydood's Avatar
Prinnydood Prinnydood is offline
Promoted to Gabby Jay
 
Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: Orlando, Florida
Posts: 4,510
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by Nyarlathotep View Post
So, hows about them stories?
Great stories take time to craft.

The horrible truth: the extension is making me procrastinate even harder. But I'm gonna have it done for real this time.
Reply With Quote
Reply

Thread Tools
Display Modes

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off

Forum Jump


All times are GMT -7. The time now is 12:33 PM.


Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.7
Copyright ©2000 - 2018, vBulletin Solutions, Inc.
Your posts ©you, 2007