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  #5761  
Old 07-06-2017, 04:42 PM
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So. Fast approaching 2.00 am then. Less than two hours before the birds lift their beaks to serenade another dawn. A sultry night - the sky flickering with distant lightning like a fluorescent strip in the throes of dying. Grace was padding about the house, pausing in front of open doors and windows, sipping a gin and tonic. She skipped lightly up the staircase for yet another bedroom patrol. Little Man was finally back off to sleep again -skin glistening like glazed pastry - a torch spotlighting tiny stalacmites in his ear canal. His book, as always, stuck to his cheek. Grace moved the post-lights-out contraband and rolled him into the cooler terrain of virgin cotton. She raked his damp hair from his forehead with her fingertips and ruffled the top sheet like a ballerina's tutu around his waist. Grace reversed out carefully with a handful of discarded clothes tucked under her arm - ice cubes clinking in her glass. The house was in darkness apart from a glowing white oblong on her desk and a candle on the coffee table. Anything else would generate more unwanted heat. The silence was unnatural. The usual owl hoots, bat squeaks and rasping fox calls were silenced by oppressive velvet blackness that crackled with voltage and smothered the valley with the gloved hand of a murderer. Grace sat down at her desk and rattled on the keyboard in search of music. The first few strums of John Denver's guitar was accompanied by a deep roll of thunder and the room and hillside lit up like a service station forecourt. So Grace ended her post, turned the volume up on the speaker, and sat back to watch the greatest show on earth - raising her gin and tonic to the beauty of it all.

https://youtu.be/vJzcpUKKxzM

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  #5762  
Old 07-06-2017, 05:13 PM
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Ah, lovely. I love John Denver. Yeah, I know, not cool butó

Hey, when can we read a bit of the Jesus story? I'm stoked as fuck for that.
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  #5763  
Old 07-14-2017, 04:50 AM
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repost from elsewhere,

and with that the goblin wrote out aloud his defiance, or at least that was what it sounded like inside to him, where work had drained him for his pains, no not just today but all throughout the summer it seemed, saying "...sorry slot, just too much too many and too often too, ah no, nothing is ever owed here between us really, but now I'm angry at dailylife for its theft...", it felt good to write again, so selfish even, while the slot just smiled back knowing that goblin could never ever really be normal like those who didn't have some pact with a muse were, smiling "...naah, nothing ever changes does it goblin, it's just you or that dailylife there, where you have to live your life though your pen lest your life lives you through its concerns, simply you stopped to learn you can't stop, well isn't that a lesson in itself there...", but the goblin still felt deeply the anguish of his loss though


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  #5764  
Old 07-17-2017, 01:28 AM
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repost from elsewhere, usual type stuff

and with that the goblin just felt his past returned again as he thought back upon the times before, they were before his father's death of course, his disappointment at his ingenerosity at the end, but what of it, the goblin had moved as it were, or not where it returned to him, whereupon the goblin went "...nice to hear your voice in my head again, where I do hope things are better for you now...", in fact, the goblin was in the middle of the busy season, not that he wrote anything worth reading within this whirlwind of endless work work work, no it was more just the fact that he still kept at it in spite of it, writing he meant, then adding "...personally though I don't know which is worse now, being betrayed or not having much expectation to begin with, I mean I'm glad it turned out to be trump then, seeing the evil advocated by those who were rallied against him, yet he doesn't seem to bring things to a close, instead the spectre of accidental global war remains so constant in its continuation...", simply the goblin hated the mainstream media for its obvious agenda, yet he had to follow the news to foretell its outcome but the media spin span his head and made him so sick of it


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  #5765  
Old 07-17-2017, 02:07 AM
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repost from elsewhere

"...yesterday's table conversation had been my wife relating about how one of her friends whose father upon seeing that it was terminal cancer had terminated things in a family do..." explained the goblin continuing "...simply he had called the family together one last time, and then amongst them all he had drunk the big sleep potion...", where of course what crossed the goblin's mind was what he would do had it been him there, sighing "...naah, I try not to think about it, but I doubt I could call my close family together like that, I mean I tried so hard not to show my children their grandmother when she was not herself, and thus when I'm not myself, for I would not do it otherwise, I doubt that I would want them to see as I am but more I would them to remember me as to what I was before...", it was just another one of those things that passes through one's orbit causing one to look up at the sky once more then back to whatever one was doing before


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  #5766  
Old 07-17-2017, 04:47 AM
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So. Monday afternoon then, with the temperature ever-climbing. Grace shed her layers of business chic the minute she'd donkey-kicked the front door shut. Her high heels were launched down the corridor with two swift Jackie Chan kicks. She savagely wound her hair to a fat corkscrew and skewered her mane on top of her head with the plastic bulldog clip that Little Man affectionately refers to as "The Jaws Of Death". She pulled on a long white vest conveniently draped on the armchair - it could pass as a dress as long as she didn't sit down. Grace flung herself into her favourite chair and swivelled so her legs hung over the arm - forcing the flow of blood away from her hot, pulsating toes that all exhibited the glow factor of E.T's dialling finger. A quiet hour lay ahead of her before Little Man's home-coming and the house would once again start echoing with banging doors, thundering feet and a constant stream of random and theatrically-animated consciousness. Grace weighed up the distance to the kitchen to put the kettle on - and decided against it. She set the alarm on her watch and snuggled back into the cool, cotton cushions for a power nap. The house wrapped its welcome around her as the kitchen radio softly played Armstrong's "Balcony Scene". Grace closed her eyes, breathed in the smell of home and effortlessly shed her day like a reptile easing out of it's cast-off skin.

https://youtu.be/Je3KyWWW8pA.
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  #5767  
Old 07-17-2017, 05:07 AM
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Originally Posted by brianpatrick View Post
Ah, lovely. I love John Denver. Yeah, I know, not cool but—

Hey, when can we read a bit of the Jesus story? I'm stoked as fuck for that.
Some fairly twisted off-shoots almost ready for your consumption Bri. x
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  #5768  
Old 07-22-2017, 01:35 AM
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("...good reads, below explains my absence perhaps..." went the goblin)

repost from elsewhere

the goblin had been caught up in a car accident, no he wasn't hurt though, nor he was the driver, yet being on the motorway it had been shocking, relating "...back to work the very next day as if nothing had happened, but it just reminded now me that it could have been so different...", where the day was warm and sunny, the rain had washed the heat away for a while it seemed but france was still in the grip of those summer holidays where no one bar a lone goblin actually wanted to work rather than be on holiday, sighing "...yes there is something very wrong with me, I just like the stress of work, where work is a dance with either the reward of getting it right or the hell of getting it wrong..."


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  #5769  
Old 07-22-2017, 01:39 AM
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repost from elsewhere

"...too much of a coincidence..." went the goblin explaining "...I mean there must be hundreds of swiss army knives types out there by now, and yet my daughter has just given me the very same knife that my father gave me back then when I was a child, he remarried and that chapter ended there, and no she couldn't have known about it because I rarely bore my family now with my past, ah no seems I do that anonymously on the internet instead then...", the heat of day kind of clouded the goblin's mind with discomfort, continuing "...so now do I keep the penknife in silence or explain my reasons for not keeping it, personally I'd prefer to forget the dead, forgive the dead even, where possible if possible, why, perhaps because if you don't forgive the dead you'll just end up living with them in the past, my choice really, pity I keep choosing though..."


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  #5770  
Old 07-22-2017, 07:50 AM
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https://youtu.be/yCUm2GthNJs


Saturday then. Somewhere in the afternoon but it felt like morning to Grace. Her body clock and Greenwich Mean had recently parted company due to differences in artistic temperament. Someone had boiled the sky with a black sock and the rain was no more than camel spit on the windows. And Grace hadn't dressed. Only a mild pang of conscience eventually bitch-slapped her into the shower. Little Man was consumed by a construction project that demanded Howard Hughes isolation and a cease fire on vacuuming. Sucked into his own private Narnia, Grace was relieved of parenting and let the Lego corporation take the strain. She drank tea, took her time with the newspapers...slipped off to bed and took comfort in her own dexterity. Did a hundred sit-ups with her toes hooked under the base of the bed and wondered if anything heavier than a plate of ham sandwiches would ever appreciate the tautness of her suspension. Yeah, she figured they'd pull it together and venture out later. A meal and the cinema - Baby Driver looked potentially worth the ticket price. Meantime, she headed for the fridge to forage for breakfast.
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  #5771  
Old 07-22-2017, 05:13 PM
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Or I suppose the goblin could keep the gift in triumph over the ghosts from the past, realizing that there are many coincidences in life, and if we let the past stay with us, we deny ourselves the innocent pleasures of today.

I don't fault you though, flea -- I did the same thing for most of my life, refusing to participate in holiday festivities because of the memories they brought back of holidays ruined by the actions of one long gone...but I'm sure they had no such problem, they enjoyed their holidays, so why shouldn't I? A lifetime of indifference has dampened the joy, though, a shame, when you think about it, that I can't blame them anymore, because it was my choice...
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Mr. Ed said I should use his signature, since he's not anymore. In honor of his good friend Nok, here it is: "As far as smoking a cigar," she said, "I'd not know where to start or how to start." "It's simple," said I, "You light one end and chew on the other and hope to meet in the middle."
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  #5772  
Old 07-22-2017, 05:27 PM
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Ah, and somehow, Grace, your link above led me to Tom Petty and Stevie Nick, then Fleetwood Mac and memories of both wives and how much I denied myself the pleasure of music for so many years, because it reminded me of them...the foolishness of youth is nothing compared to the foolishness of adulthood.
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Mr. Ed said I should use his signature, since he's not anymore. In honor of his good friend Nok, here it is: "As far as smoking a cigar," she said, "I'd not know where to start or how to start." "It's simple," said I, "You light one end and chew on the other and hope to meet in the middle."
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  #5773  
Old 07-24-2017, 04:41 AM
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Lovely pieces.
I also don't like editing. I ask them https://edubirdie.ca/pay-for-essays for help since I've been a student.
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Old 07-24-2017, 06:03 AM
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("...thanks rob56, but I bet they're all those humans again, so I'd never get into troll school if I used an essay writing app like that..." mentioned the goblin liking the company though then adding "...get it wrong to get it right, truth is most folks know what they want only that they don't know that they no longer want it for being as expected, and thus the goal is to see if one can write that which they didn't know they'd like till they had read it from you...", and with that the goblin just posted his next)

repost from elsewhere, the troll's forum, the "I got banned" thread

at which the goblin showed up and then picked the very first thread that didn't seem to have any topic really, suspecting too that a troll getting banned for being a troll came across as about as surprising as when one finally learns that donald trump is an american, the goblin just borrowed the slot to muse awhile upon how to save a hippo from drowning, as if those trolls ever really cared about their bans, no they loved them in fact, years later and they're still at it, still getting banned for the pains, the goblin just smiled "...don't think that hippo is going to drown for all its lamentations, just it's waving not drowning perhaps..."


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  #5775  
Old 07-26-2017, 09:31 PM
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holy shit, goblin o' mine! that baby hippo is the cutest of the cute. btw i had a dream about you: this great big penguin and i was eating bread or cakes or something and i ogled you and called you flea bot and you got mad at me for interfering lol. just letting you know ily.
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