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  • gratefaldean
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    No problem, TL
    I'm guessing that you have enough on your mind right now. Not feeling especially creative myself, but lately about 1 night a week I can't sleep, and then the next morning I've got a long passage to write...my (unsuccessful, I might add) substitute for counting sheep.
  • TigerLilly
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    will jump in again sooner or later
    been reading along, but not feeling at all creative lately. :(********************************** I am not young enough to know everything. Oscar Wilde
  • johnman
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    so they all went to denny's
    for the grand slam breakfast, and the burnt coffee...
  • gratefaldean
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    Well
    Fifteen minutes had passed, and Hippy still owed Bertha (the woman) an answer, so he sat her down on Bertha (the van)'s front bumper and went digging around inside the back of the van. When he came out, he was holding a stack of 8X10 color glossy photos with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each, and proceeded to use them to illustrate his tale. He told Berth (the woman) of the yurt and Yurticulus; the trapped (but since freed) Chilean mimers; the vicious swan bloody massacree; the beer ball, sandstorm, flood, Eiffel tower, and dental floss; the one-eyed-Chesire-grinned sailor, the baguette melee, their harrowing Atlantic crossing, but most especially, he talked about the Three Wiseguys and the flying monkeys. Meanwhile, Guido had found a guitar, and he and Tony and Bob were singing the chorus or "Alice's Restaraunt Massacree" in surprisingly sweet 3-part harmony, over and over and over. Hippy, annoyed at anything the wiseguy trio might do, growled, "Cut out that racket! This Kansas, not the friggin Berkshires!" Guido turned his most menacing look on Hippy, and said, "I don't care where we are, it's almost Thanksgiving and this is what we DO. If you don't like it, take your stupid story over there to the Group W bench!" "Group Dubya bench?" Hippy was confused until Guido jerked his head back toward the north end of the wheat field. Sure enough, back at the edge of the field was a bench. The bench was occupied mostly by flying monkeys too drunk to stay atop their perches. There was a scruffy young fellow who could have been a father raper or a litterer, tough to tell at that distance. Oddest of all, there was a familiar-seeming guy dressed in a blue suit with a stack of books under one arm. He was trying to sell the books to the Group W Bench denizens, regaling them with stories of deception and war. The monkeys were too drunk to care, but when the guy started talking about waterboarding, well, they all perked right up. Flying monkeys are known snowboarding enthusiasts, and they were all right interested in learning about waterboarding...that is until it dawned on them that what the book salesmen was talking about had nothing to do with motor boats, tow ropes, and skimming the waves. Even Group W folks have their standards, so two of the monkeys grabbed the salesman by his shoulders and flew him and his books away out over the northern horizon...and came back without him. Hippy was relating Guido's flying monkey contract with the hag in Oz, that certain girl and her dog still on the loose and making trouble for the hag. Hearing this, Bertha (the woman)'s eyes widened. She fixed her piercing stare at Guido, who immediately stopped playing the guitar, then turned back to Hippy. "This is about Oz and that witch?" she asked. "Do you have any idea what's going on in Oz? Oh Hippy, things are not good at all..."
  • ripple70
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    ok ok
    if hippys bob then who is bob is bob hippy and i thought bob was dead or was that tony youve all got 15 minutes to answer and where are the flying monkeys ? are we looking for oz is hippy to settle down with bertha or does she tell him dont come around here anymore or vice versa we need help guys we need direction................meanwhile back in kansas....
  • johnman
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    "no no no.....
    I'm Bob"
  • ripple70
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    the other one was....
    guido thats who and hippys ear was all wet and sloppy a sensation he was not at all familiar with Bertha demanded an explanation hippy gave his usual dumb puupy eyed look and sighed....
  • gratefaldean
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    "OK," whispered Bertha
    Into Hippy's ear (a very delightful sensation). "So that's one's Tony. Who's the OTHER ONE?"
  • johnman
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    "well, Berfa....I'll ltcha know in about 15 minutes....uh oh"
    "FIFTEEN MINUTES??!?!!" screamed Tony.....
  • gratefaldean
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    Ripple
    We posted at the same time again...we need to stop meeting like this!
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a tale in progress, by request
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does this have anything to do with beer and cookies and a certain person in our midst?
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It does indeed! this thread is for telling a progressing story, which we're waiting impatiently for ripple to start!! :)********************************** By trying we can easily learn to endure adversity -- another man's I mean. Mark Twain
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like from the user list here on deadnet? If so, I will start the story then, or Johnman can or Badger-we'll figure it out marye!********************************** By trying we can easily learn to endure adversity -- another man's I mean. Mark Twain
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Robert Hunter once said, in part... "It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken Perhaps they're better left unsung "
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And it isn't...I'd be sweating out posting the grand beginning. Lot's of pressure now to start with something fabulous, something that can move forward, something that'll catch and hold our interest. If the light was all shining on me, I'd likely get a wicked dose of stage fright, lose my lunch, and hide in the men's room. I'll go check the stalls to see if Ripple is where I'd be...
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It was a dark and stormy night........
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finally managing to wrestle his yurt-flap open, poor Ripple's Hippy found his exit barred by a squadron of flying Mongolian monkeys.********************************** By trying we can easily learn to endure adversity -- another man's I mean. Mark Twain
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ladies and gentlemen!!!!!!
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Ripple lived,2 miles north of somewhere else, he was a simple man who had dropped out of mainstream life many moons ago.Ripple lived a simple life,chickens ran freely on his land and vegetables grew in abundance.Now ripple had his own hippy and ripples hippies name was ripples hippy,at night they would sit,pass a pipe and ripples hippy would tell tales about his adventures.One night they sat the wine flowed and ripple passed the the pipe to his hippy,ripples hippy looked up hit by some far of revelation,his eyes widened,lights came on and he said flying monkeys........
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The hallucinogens ;) heehee "The dire wolf collects his due while the boys sing round the fire"
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Flying Monkeys were blue in hue. They were dressed in regal Green, and had singing swords. you could hear. Ro Bee O Oh Oh. Rob ie o Oh Oh. The lead monkey passes the orb and it was said, that all Kind people in all good time, will share with those without a smile. and so the Orb was passed. Frowns became smiles, and smiles became brighter. The swords sang loud and proud. The flying monkeys came together to discuss the Ripple, and the Hippy that came to town. One monkey wondered why ice creams slowly rolled down his cheeky monkey. the Other monkey thought it was a sign. the 3rd Monkey concurred it was sweet. and so it was. :)
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to go steal beer...which is what they do best. But they couldn't agree on whether it should be brought to Spain......or Iowa
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...because of the South American psychedelic smoke that was enveloping the yurt. Strange floatring shapes, much like flying monkeys, kept buzzing around his head, despite his swatting them away. Ahh, now he remembered... It was all that damn Ripple's fault.
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hovering around the outside of the yurt and looking for any hidden beer supplies, were pointing and laughing at Hippy, knowing that without beer, he wouldn't be able to adjust the effects of the smoke. He would have to be content with fermented mare's milk, which may have contributed to his current befuddled state to begin with.......
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to make some sense out of it all, while fermented mare's milk was woking fine fo ripple's hippy, there was sill the important decision to be made about delivering to Spain or Iowa. So he mind-melded the monkey into sitting down and paying attention, so they could take a democratic vote, Spain Aye, Iowa Nay was the unanimous result, Hippy was very convincing that in his argument tht Spain would be much better to visit and deliver beer than awful Iowa. Ripple concurred, so,,, as soon as thy fought their way out of the yurt, the must set off fo Andalutheia. ********************************** By trying we can easily learn to endure adversity -- another man's I mean. Mark Twain
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then what happened next was...... (from very tired jetlagged badger)
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(murder being what a flock of crows is called, and flyin' monkeys bein' similiar in disposition) Hippy turned his attention back to the orb, which fate would have it, was actually a Coors party ball, complete with tap, beer that the monkeys missed. "I will save this for the corn ranchers thirsting in Iowa" Hippy said. Corn ranching can be dry, taxing work as opposed to corn farming, where there is no herding required. Suddenly, at the yurt door, 3 wise guys appeared, Guido, Tony, and Bob, "We're here about the monkeys" Bob said......
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were under control and there atentions taken away from beer,the decision had been made spain was the drop off point a murder of monkeys was sent to spain re delevery.There was another problem that ripples hippy instructed the remaining monkeys to deal with somebody had to rescue the chilean mimers trapped underground with nothing but light food and a carton of smokes.......
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"I've got it" Hippy exclaimed, "those trapped mimes could use some BEER!!" (heeheehee, those monkeys are BEST at stealing beer, ya unnerstan'. Tryin' to get a flyin' monkey's mind offa beer is like tryin' to teach a chicken how to spit.) Ignoring the wise guys, hippy sent a message to the chief of the local flyin' monkey band "more beer!! for the trapped Chilean mimes!"...."Ahem" said Guido, "about these monkeys"....
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Had already contracted the monkeys to do a job for a hag who lived not in Iowa, but not exactly Kansas, either. A certain girl and her dog were moving in on the hag's territory and so far had eluded the hag's attempts to snatch them. Flying monkeys are most reliable in this regard, and beer or no beer, a contract is a contract...
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the murder of monkeys sent to spain had been attacked by vicious swans flying south for the winter.there had been a huge bloody battle and the vicious swans had come out on top,in a blink of an eye half the flying monkey population had been wiped out.The remaining monkeys got news of this attroicity and abandoned any other plans they had and set off for revenge in search of the vicious swans.The wise guys were distraught contracts had been broken and chilean mimers left trapped and then out of nowhere.........
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oh my
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That swans are mean birds... really they are.. although not as vicious as turkeys, those damn things will chase you down and corner you! "It's got no signs or dividing line and very few rules to guide"
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The lonely Coors party ball back in the yurt began to pine for the missing monkey murder as it secretly longed to be with them given their original flight plan. It harbored secret desires to go tilting at windmills where it had heard such things might happen, and had little desire to be sentenced to either Iowa or Kansas. No, it had heard of far more interesting fields of grain, and it longed to see them. And so it began to gently strum its guitar and sing to itself, very soft, yet very clear. Guido, Tony and Bob were astonished at this display, their jaws hanging slack in amazement, but hippy was completely nonplussed as he and the beer ball went way back. "Far out, ball! I hear that," he said. "Maybe we should swing by and pick up the mimers, too. I'd bet they could use a nice vacation on the Costa Del Sol right about now!" As he was looking up the fail-safe money recall code for the day, Bob snapped out of it and said... Conversation is always more interesting than recitation, so speak your mind and not someone else's.
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the hallucinogens again....
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...had been opened way to often and the result was all these flying monkeys and buried mimes ambling about. Funny, it used to be a lot more transcendent when that box got opened back in the day. "Should I take them to OZ", he mused? If we follow the yellow-brick road past the poppy fields things are bound the get better, though there was bad blood between some clans of the flying monkeys. Ahh well, it always seemed a rather jolly time after a jaunt through the poppy fields.
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.......yawn!!!..........stay........awake.......poppies.......hee....heeheee......zzzzzzzz...
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poppies poppies poppies....
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Flying monkeys are quite rare, and humans that interact with them are rarer still, so to say that Hippy and Guido had something in common is akin to saying that twins have "something" in common. But despite their obvious physical and philosophical differences, Hippy and Guido shared one other quirk of fate: they were blessed (many say "saddled" or even "cursed," but don't count Hippy or Guido among those naysayers) by their parents at birth with names that carried...expectations. Guido was raised in the Family, and the Family had a Business. Guido grew into his name and his business like corn grows in Iowa. In his early days, he acted as an enforcer for the Family: when gentler arts of persuasion failed to convince Family clients to do right (which is to say, pay up), Guido was adept at using brute strength, baseball bats, tire irons, lead pipes, and found objects by the dozen to bloody noses, bust jaws, break arms and legs, and shatter knees in order to convince recalcitrant clients to pay what was owed the Family. Even in later years as he rose through management, finally becoming a Boss, and then the Boss of Bosses, Guido remained hands-on in many of his business dealings. When it came time for a stupid, stubborn client to pay the ultimate price for crossing the Family, Guido always took the task on himself, and by himself. He had a sawed-off shotgum cunningly hidden in the trunk of every car that he owned, and used the weapon to dispatch his targets. And everywhere he went, whether it was the swamps of Jersey, the plains of Spain, the cornfields of Iowa, or that poppy field just over the rainbow from Kansas, Guido knew just the spot to stash the body where it would never, ever be found. Guido lived up to expectations, and he prospered. Hippy's story was a little different, as there was not really a family business nor history to live up to. To be honest, he grew wide at the hip in his mother's womb, causing so much grief at childbirth that she insisted that he be called "Hippy." It's right there on this birth certificate, notarized and sealed. Hippy eventually grew into his hips and became quite hip in the process. Hippy entered the burgeoning "hippie" scene in the Bay Area (what's up with that odd spelling, he often thought, as if the New York Times had any clue as to the proper spelling of "hippy"). Hippy was a hippie's hippie, admired and trusted by all. No object was more closely identified with Hippy than his 66 VW microbus, hand-painted (and over the years, hand-painted, and painted, and painted, until many wondered if there was still any steel left under all that paint) and lovingly maintained by Hippy for decades. The van has been driven over every continent but Antarctica (today Hippy looks at the shrinking ice mass at the bottom of the world, wondering if he'll get a chance for a roadtrip there before he dies), and is fast approaching the 3 million mile mark...or so. Hippy's van's odometer goes only as high as 99999.9, so keeping track of that 3 million miles has been nearly as much a challenge as keeping the old flower-powered warhorse on the road. Hippy began a tradition of, wherever he was, throwing a big party every time the odometer turned over. Usually 5 or 800 of his closest friends would show up in time for the festivities, but there was this one time in upstate New York, on a farm owned by a guy with a funny name, where things got a little out of hand. Half a million people showed up for the party, and the house bands (more and more just kept showing up) played and played and played. Hippy had grown into his name like hemp on the side of the road, and he too prospered, after his own fashion. But as much as Hippy and Guido had in common, it was their differences, especially their differences over the flying monkees, that set them on a dangerous path that one could not conceive of ending well.
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am i awake,asleep,dreaming what is this road here all yellow made out of bricks and what are all they flapping hairy things flying above somebody.......
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...on the way to OZ. It seems that Guido was once again being forced into the role of "The Family Hammer" in this sprint to get to the great Oz,, who, it seemed, had two good bitches and two bad bitches under his control, plus a few other freaks missing vital organs, who were part of Hippy's crew. One of the evil bitches had command of the squad of flying monkeys and Guido thought there might be some easy way to use them to to make the hit on Oz. Hippy was a bad influence though. He spoiled all his bad plans with those poppies, making everybody feel like they were lost in a Chinese Opium den in NYC in the 20s. Something had to be done about this intractable situation. But what?
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did Hippy end up trapped in a yurt,, being kept as a pet by the jovial and beer brewing Ripple? and is Tony a relation? or is Bob a temp hire (and why is his hair so long?)
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to use this chinese opium to our advantage we could put this opium in the monkeys beer and make them easier to control.So the opium was added to the latest batch of ripples brew and soon the flying monkeys became under the mean bitches control and instructed to fly to oz.Guidos long haired brother tony didnt think this was a good idea and became argumentative.........
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Tony was always the hothead in the Family. Just the mention of "15 minutes" could send him into a frenzy. "15 minutes!!" he'd howl. "FIFTEEN MINUTES? IT'S NOTHING!!" But for Tony and Guido, 15 minutes was everything. You see, the two brothers were twins, but Guido beat Tony into the world by, you guessed it, 15 minutes. As the first-born son, Guido got the name to live up to and the clear path to Bossdom. Tony would always be the second fiddle, the spare wheel, the Family Captain who was constantly and so unfairly forced to accede to Guido's wishes. But they were brothers, after all, and twins to boot, so they'd fight like brothers over the slightest of slights. But the flying monkey issue was no slight, it was serious business, and Tony had a point...
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the poppies were magic enough without chemical transformation....jeeez.....and Bob has the long hair!!....oh boy.......(erasure sounds.......pencil snapping)........................ouch!!
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Hard to maintain continuity in this format. We need to paste this sucker together...not that I'm volunteering.
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"Boss" Guido, "Too Late" Tony and "Longhair" Bob were in fact direct descendents of Marco Polo, and their "Family" fortune had been evolving through the centuries as opiate distributors while masquerading as exporters of Authentic Mongolian Yurts. Having achieved total control over their historical markets, they were now looking to branch out into new territory. Specifically, Great Bend, Kansas and Boone, Iowa, as they seemed like central locations. They had run into ripple by chance at... Conversation is always more interesting than recitation, so speak your mind and not someone else's.
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too busy laughing here....."too late" tony....heeheeeee
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the Flying Monkey brewing enterprise re-emerged to continue making Ripple's Amber in small kegs for those with keg-o-rators. Kansas must have become too risky, maybe even dangerous, with vicious swans migrating thru Cheyenne Bottoms Reservoir, near Great Bend. Longhair Bob was preparing the three varieties of hops, all the while singing some Elvis song, Jet to the Promised Land. Awkwardly, Guido and Tony ......
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that Guido didn't know about, despite being twins and all. Tony had an imaginary friend who was a winged four tailed cat-the REAL mastermind behind the flying monkeys. The four-tailed winged cat was a legacy of their adventurous ancestor Marco Polo, who bequeathed command of this cat (who's name, by the way, is Yurtilicious) to the 2nd born twin of each generation of his progeny. Having control of Yurtilicious means that...********************************** By trying we can easily learn to endure adversity -- another man's I mean. Mark Twain
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control of oz and can use the huge castle as our new brewing empire,all beer will be brewed from oz and delivered to the four corners by the flying monkeys this will keep them busy and out of mischeif. as for bob guido and tony well what happened was ripple decided too ....
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was worth a try but didnt quite work grateful thanks to all that contributed.