Curses

Mar. 11th, 2002 10:34 am
robinbloke: (Default)
[personal profile] robinbloke
I'm falling behind on my self-imposed project to write a hundred 100 word stories, maybe it's lack of inspiration, maybe it's general apathy or maybe it's because the phase of the moon isn't quite right*. Whatever it is maybe some inspired story ideas will sort me out, so if you have a moment supply me with a single sentance idea or maybe a title for a story and I'll try and write a 100 word story on it. If I ever get around to publishing (haha) then I'll credit you.

* Warning: The current phase of the moon is not a accurate representative scale for any judgement of my cognitive facilities, it and any other celestial bodies have a + negligible effect on my social, mental and physical state, so any attempt to apply this and any other planetary influence as a judgement as to anything I do will be treated with bemusement.

+As yet proven

Inspired by things on my desk:

Date: 2002-03-11 03:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] puddingcat.livejournal.com
A perfume bottle that looks like a lime green Mr Whippy.

2 used, discoloured old teabags.

3 bananas that are managing to be under- and over-ripe at the same time.

Quickies for Nails

Safe as houses?

Hey, I never claimed they were *interesting* things.

Re: Inspired by things on my desk:

Date: 2002-03-11 05:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] karohemd.livejournal.com
Things on my desk:
- a PC, monitor, keyboard, wrist rest, mouse, mouse pad
- document holder
- an empty crisp packet, half a bar of Galaxy Fruit&Nut, a pasta salad (my lunch), a mug
- assorted papers, printouts, folders, pens, paperclips etc.
- the CookieBank™ (currently empty)
- dust and fluff (the cleaners never do desks)

Re: Inspired by things on my desk:

Date: 2002-03-11 06:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] robinbloke.livejournal.com
"And two sugars!" Janet called after Sarah as she walked into the kitchen.
Sarah hated making coffee and making it, but she always seemed to be the doing it.
As the kettle slowly bubbled itself to the boil she sloshed in the milk and the sugar into the cups as required for the others as they sat in the lounge, chatting.
Her eye caught the coffee jar and a thought occurred.
One, two, five spoonfuls laterÂ…
"This is disgusting!" said Janet making a face "Last time I ever ask you to make coffee"
Sarah just smiled and sipped her milk.

Another one

Date: 2002-03-11 05:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] puddingcat.livejournal.com
Billy Blood Drop, ambassador to the blood service.

Re: Another one

Date: 2002-03-11 05:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] robinbloke.livejournal.com
I have one of those too

Date: 2002-03-11 05:20 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jonnyargles.livejournal.com
The fall of a drop of gravy

Disco Inferno in a Cardiff Nightclub

The planet Neptune

ghost poo

those little tadpole things you get in your eye when you squint on a sunny day

Proverb related & others

Date: 2002-03-11 06:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] puddingcat.livejournal.com
How to teach an old dog new tricks
Satisfaction brought him back
A bird in the bush
Three for a girl
Mackerel sky
Through the keyhole of a sandcastle
Dances with Wallflowers

Inspiration

Date: 2002-03-11 07:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sesquipedality.livejournal.com
Inspiration is a fickle thing. After a while, the author found that she only had ideas while in the height of coitus. A sexual revolution ensued, as a result of which she lost her husband, her children and all her friends. The adage "familiarity breeds comtempt" proved true, she couldn't come, and the novel never got finished.

Our heroine, destitute and alone, found that prostitution provided a stable income, and she soon gave up all thoughts of writing. Until the day she died, the novel lurked, like the picture of Dorian Gray, in her attic. Most nights, she slept fine.

Date: 2002-03-11 08:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sesquipedality.livejournal.com
Oh, and some inspiration for you.

"The only thing that surprised Ted about the enormous fruit delivery awaiting him on his doorstep that morning was the small child nestled comfortably in a crate of French goosberries."

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