Moderator: Arwen9
by lilyo » Tue Feb 03, 2009 4:01 pm
by lilyo » Tue Feb 03, 2009 4:01 pm
by pencilandpaper » Wed Feb 04, 2009 10:51 am
by pybutcher » Sat Feb 21, 2009 4:53 pm
Argg, I have been working on a similar project me onesies. Perhaps we can be of friendly alliance in this quest! A recent post that be mine includes this fictional memoir:
------------------
I grew up in a small, one-horse town with dirt roads and white picket fences. I wanted to be an astronaut, then a cowboy, then a policeman, then astronaut again; it went on like that until I was about twelve, and then I grew up.
When I say “grew up”, I mean that I realized the reality of the ugliness of life for the first time. It happened when I saw my Uncle Rip get real mad and shoot the neighbor’s Cocker Spaniel- Pete. Uncle Rip (his real name was Roger, but no one ever called him that around us kids) was usually a pretty easygoing type, but sometimes he would just up and get irritated for something. You never knew what it would be, so it was usually better to just avoid him unless he initiated conversation in good a mood, which wasn’t very often. He always reminded me of a volcano- peaceful and serene and then, without cause, violent and vulgar.
Uncle Rip was ok, but then there was his wife- Aunt Martha. I could generally deal with Uncle Rip by avoiding him, which contented us both, but there’s one thing I can’t tolerate and that is an artificial prig. Aunt Martha was one of those people that always put on a polite smile, all the while making subtle suggestions that you do something for her. That pretty little smile would turn into a quick snarl if you ever got up the pluck and defied her.
Unfortunately for me, I’m the guy that lets you know just what he thinks, with little (if any) sweet discretion. I guess I just never lost that basic innocence of believing that the bare facts were what people wanted to hear. It always confused me when the adults kept saying to tell the truth and then reacted with such adversity when I did it. I wasn’t usually an obedient kid, but it took me a long while before I learned to lie, and even longer before I was able to muster up the guts and actually do it well. By the time I got to that point, the other kids had long left me behind, maturing quickly in the revered art of vice.
.... If you're interested, I'd love to hear from you!by pybutcher » Sat Feb 21, 2009 4:53 pm
Argg, I have been working on a similar project me onesies. Perhaps we can be of friendly alliance in this quest! A recent post that be mine includes this fictional memoir:
------------------
I grew up in a small, one-horse town with dirt roads and white picket fences. I wanted to be an astronaut, then a cowboy, then a policeman, then astronaut again; it went on like that until I was about twelve, and then I grew up.
When I say “grew up”, I mean that I realized the reality of the ugliness of life for the first time. It happened when I saw my Uncle Rip get real mad and shoot the neighbor’s Cocker Spaniel- Pete. Uncle Rip (his real name was Roger, but no one ever called him that around us kids) was usually a pretty easygoing type, but sometimes he would just up and get irritated for something. You never knew what it would be, so it was usually better to just avoid him unless he initiated conversation in good a mood, which wasn’t very often. He always reminded me of a volcano- peaceful and serene and then, without cause, violent and vulgar.
Uncle Rip was ok, but then there was his wife- Aunt Martha. I could generally deal with Uncle Rip by avoiding him, which contented us both, but there’s one thing I can’t tolerate and that is an artificial prig. Aunt Martha was one of those people that always put on a polite smile, all the while making subtle suggestions that you do something for her. That pretty little smile would turn into a quick snarl if you ever got up the pluck and defied her.
Unfortunately for me, I’m the guy that lets you know just what he thinks, with little (if any) sweet discretion. I guess I just never lost that basic innocence of believing that the bare facts were what people wanted to hear. It always confused me when the adults kept saying to tell the truth and then reacted with such adversity when I did it. I wasn’t usually an obedient kid, but it took me a long while before I learned to lie, and even longer before I was able to muster up the guts and actually do it well. By the time I got to that point, the other kids had long left me behind, maturing quickly in the revered art of vice.
.... If you're interested, I'd love to hear from you!by Claryce » Mon Feb 23, 2009 12:49 am
by Claryce » Mon Feb 23, 2009 12:49 am
by AngelRoseDarke » Mon Feb 23, 2009 1:34 am
by AngelRoseDarke » Mon Feb 23, 2009 1:34 am
by Deb E » Sat Feb 28, 2009 2:44 pm
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