Once upon a time there lived a wise old man named Yaris who lived in the very deepest, darkest place in the woods, on a hillside in a place known as Whispering Winds Valley.
Yaris cared very much for the beautiful snow white horses that made their home in those enchanted woods.
He launched a massive law suit against Toyota for naming a car after him without providing him with any royalties
He loved this valley where the wind kept him company and kept the worries and troubles of the world far from him.
But the Toyota king did not allow dissent, so to teach old Yaris a lesson, he sent 10,000 legions of BP serfs to drill wells in the valley all around Yaris' cottage.
....and the king cast an evil spell on one horse, making one horse amidst the throngs of others, a horse destined to run 200 miles per hour over terrible terrain, without stopping - ever. Somewhere far away, a princess was awaiting (pining away for, actually ) Yaris' arrival on one of his white horses...
The horses were upset that their land was being destroyed and set out to destroy the evil corporation and their minions.
From the powder blue skies, Mitsubishi's were gathering with their metal shields with windows in them so they could see the fear in their enemy's as they die.
Habeas Forktongue, the god of dysfunction and dual plot-lines, reached down from the heavens and dusted the land with the Powder of Plurality, letting it fall upon the windswept valley in a glittering rain that blanketed the oil pools in prismatic radiance and speckled the snowy rumps of the horses like equine rainbow butt dandruff.
And once again, he found himself alone on a hillside in a place known as Whispering Winds Valley.
Which should not be confused with the more sparsely populated Passing Wind Valley in the other township
More people would live there, but the massive creature known as Peristalsis, an evil Fiber Beast from the netherlands, lumbered into the valley many decades ago and decimated the population with regularity.
... each Turdsday like clockwork he would descend into the bowels of the valley destroy the valley.. leaving nothing but chunks of vegetables in his wake
"Mmmm, corn," said Yaris one morning, fishing out a bright golden nugget floating in the creek that ran into his valley from the one just beyond.
LOL... I can't hold it... LOL That's too funny!!!
Yet, that beast is so meek and fragile for he was a handsome price once upon a time! Cursed and alienated, he's been and still in search of his real existence, questioning the purpose of his nihilistic craving for freedom.
And then he got really confused because he couldn't understand all these long words. So he sat down, looked up at the sky and started singing...
"oh the wispering winds ....oh the wispering winds,
Oh the wispering winds they long to blow"
But blow they may ....though ... they'll never know,
How much hot air comes with the wispering winds."
Thank you,Thank you.
One day, fed up with his lot, Yaris decided to leave the valley taking with him the best of his white horses, he spent 40 days and 40 nights searching for the happiness his mother always told hom lived beyond the valley.
he rode the most beautiful horse he has and then follow through the course of the valley stopping and then resting, until he saw a lone house -- a beautiful house
The house was majestic in it's simplicity so much so that it took his breath away upon sight and caused the horses to kneel in respect for the wise and peaceful owner who had been expecting them with great joyful anticipation.
He couldn't wait to meet the owners of the house. He knocked at the door and removed his hat, glancing at the surroundings of the majestic house. A beautiful lady opened the door and he was mesmerized!
She smiled sweetly as his stunned silence as she introduced herself in a voice soft enough to rival the fairest of fairies, "My name is Happiness, I have been expecting you, Yaris."
"How Much?" he asked.. and wondered to himself why his mother had know of, and spoken so highly of,this gingerbread brothel.
Happiness awaited his reply, but Yaris' jaw lay upon the ground, dropped there by the prowess of her plastic surgeon, the renowned Count De Botox.
who would have known that the great surgeon would have given the beautiful young lady a penis and an adam's apple in error... or so the woman claimed
Yaris stepped forward adjusting his blouse and skirt, the gentle wind ruffling his golden locks of newly transplanted hair..
Feeling dizzy and more than just a little bit off, Yaris stumbled to the opposite side of the sterile white room and stopped cold in his tracks as he caught a glimpsee of his unexpected reflection in the full-lentgh mirror standing tall in front of a padlocked brass door.
Out of nowhere, the God of war, Aries, made a fart so powerful towards the world that everyone including Yaris blasted out & the world broke down into millions of pieces, finishing everything...The End!!
...and yet the life creating forces of his rival Testiclees, the Greek God of Sex, speilled forth upon the land and recreated everything just the way it was
At least until he decided to rebuild it-Monster Garage style-in five days!
And again Out of nowhere, the God of war, Aries, made a fart so powerful towards the world that everyone including Yaris blasted out & the world broke down into millions of pieces, finishing everything...The End!!
The End was just Yaris's dream. The dream endeth.. and reality begineth... "Phew! What a terrible dream it was!", yaris said softly. He rolled his eyes and said to himself, "In a world of uncertainties the human mind succumbs to unexpected occurrences." Yaris got up from his bed and saw the moon, full in its glory, shines across a few gaps within the skyline, a palm tree protrudes across the horizon delicately decorated with starry bulbs that illuminate the outline of its form, the wind was blowing so fast... Subsequently, Yaris smiled and went back to his bed to finish his sleep.
Slowly, imperceptively, the welcoming dream started to refocus itself in his weary head until Yaris was once again standing in the Whispering Winds Valley looking around in approval and feeling comforted at once.
But alas, the dream got broken when again Out of nowhere, the God of war, Aries, made a fart so powerful towards the world that everyone including other Gods, Goddesses, all sorts of dreams & of course Yaris too blasted out & the universe broke down into millions of pieces, finishing everything...The End!!
You know, if you don't like this thread, you could just choose to ignore it instead of constantly trying to end it.
what can I do, I want to write it but cant get anything else in my mind
But was it really the end, or a new beginning? Time marches on and though the universe was in pieces and Yaris was destroyed the parts like seeds spread out into a new universe where once again matter coalesced from energy and Aphrodite scanned her new surroundings searching for the love that would bring forth a new chapter in this never ending story.
[You know reading through this from start to...well...so far...tells a lot about the writers we have here and with one or two of the writers some psychologists would have a field day. I love the way the story has been transformed from blissful beauty to dark matter and how some of the writers try to return it to its former glory - it will be interesting to see how the story progresses if I leave it alone for another few days.]
The impossibly imperceptible seeds were sown by way of the universe's natural gravitational pull as the miracle of life began to emerge yet again as definitive proof that nothing can stand in the way of the cycle of life.
and the lovely Goddess came across a bearded Russian writer who had a large manuscript that contained the following...
"Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don't tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by that Antichrist- I really believe he is Antichrist- I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer my 'faithful slave,' as you call yourself! But how do you do? I see I have frightened you- sit down and tell me all the news."
It was in July, 1805, and the speaker was the well-known Anna Pavlovna Scherer, maid of honor and favorite of the Empress Marya Fedorovna. With these words she greeted Prince Vasili Kuragin, a man of high rank and importance, who was the first to arrive at her reception. Anna Pavlovna had had a cough for some days. She was, as she said, suffering from la grippe; grippe being then a new word in St. Petersburg, used only by the elite.
All her invitations without exception, written in French, and delivered by a scarlet-liveried footman that morning, ran as follows:
"If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince], and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed to see you tonight between 7 and 10- Annette Scherer."
"Heavens! what a virulent attack!" replied the prince, not in the least disconcerted by this reception. He had just entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee breeches, and shoes, and had stars on his breast and a serene expression on his flat face. He spoke in that refined French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation natural to a man of importance who had grown old in society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting to her his bald, scented, and shining head, and complacently seated himself on the sofa.
"First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your friend's mind at rest," said he without altering his tone, beneath the politeness and affected sympathy of which indifference and even irony could be discerned.
"Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be calm in times like these if one has any feeling?" said Anna Pavlovna. "You are staying the whole evening, I hope?"
"And the fete at the English ambassador's? Today is Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there," said the prince. "My daughter is coming for me to take me there."
"I thought today's fete had been canceled. I confess all these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome."
"If they had known that you wished it, the entertainment would have been put off," said the prince, who, like a wound-up clock, by force of habit said things he did not even wish to be believed.
"Don't tease! Well, and what has been decided about Novosiltsev's dispatch? You know everything."
"What can one say about it?" replied the prince in a cold, listless tone. "What has been decided? They have decided that Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe that we are ready to burn ours."
Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor repeating a stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the contrary, despite her forty years, overflowed with animation and impulsiveness. To be an enthusiast had become her social vocation and, sometimes even when she did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her. The subdued smile which, though it did not suit her faded features, always played round her lips expressed, as in a spoiled child, a continual consciousness of her charming defect, which she neither wished, nor could, nor considered it necessary, to correct.
In the midst of a conversation on political matters Anna Pavlovna burst out:
"Oh, don't speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don't understand things, but Austria never has wished, and does not wish, for war. She is betraying us! Russia alone must save Europe. Our gracious sovereign recognizes his high vocation and will be true to it. That is the one thing I have faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous and noble that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his vocation and crush the hydra of revolution, which has become more terrible than ever in the person of this murderer and villain! We alone must avenge the blood of the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely on?... England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot understand the Emperor Alexander's loftiness of soul. She has refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and still seeks, some secret motive in our actions. What answer did Novosiltsev get? None. The English have not understood and cannot understand the self-abnegation of our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only desires the good of mankind. And what have they promised? Nothing! And what little they have promised they will not perform! Prussia has always declared that Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe is powerless before him.... And I don't believe a word that Hardenburg says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality is just a trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny of our adored monarch. He will save Europe!"
She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity.
"I think," said the prince with a smile, "that if you had been sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would have captured the King of Prussia's consent by assault. You are so eloquent. Will you give me a cup of tea?"
"In a moment. A propos," she added, becoming calm again, "I am expecting two very interesting men tonight, le Vicomte de Mortemart, who is connected with the Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of the best French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the good ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that profound thinker? He has been received by the Emperor. Had you heard?"
"I shall be delighted to meet them," said the prince. "But tell me," he added with studied carelessness as if it had only just occurred to him, though the question he was about to ask was the chief motive of his visit, "is it true that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke to be appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all accounts is a poor creature."
Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but others were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya Fedorovna to secure it for the baron.
Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that neither she nor anyone else had a right to criticize what the Empress desired or was pleased with.
"Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager Empress by her sister," was all she said, in a dry and mournful tone.
As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna's face suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere devotion and respect mingled with sadness, and this occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to show Baron Funke beaucoup d'estime, and again her face clouded over with sadness.
The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual to her, Anna Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for daring to speak he had done of a man recommended to the Empress) and at the same time to console him, so she said:
"Now about your family. Do you know that since your daughter came out everyone has been enraptured by her? They say she is amazingly beautiful."
The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude.
"I often think," she continued after a short pause, drawing nearer to the prince and smiling amiably at him as if to show that political and social topics were ended and the time had come for intimate conversation- "I often think how unfairly sometimes the joys of life are distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid children? I don't speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don't like him," she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder and raising her eyebrows. "Two such charming children. And really you appreciate them less than anyone, and so you don't deserve to have them."
And she smiled her ecstatic smile.
"I can't help it," said the prince. "Lavater would have said I lack the bump of paternity."
"Don't joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do you know I am dissatisfied with your younger son? Between ourselves" (and her face assumed its melancholy expression), "he was mentioned at Her Majesty's and you were pitied...."
The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him significantly, awaiting a reply. He frowned.
"What would you have me do?" he said at last. "You know I did all a father could for their education, and they have both turned out fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet fool, but Anatole is an active one. That is the only difference between them." He said this smiling in a way more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles round his mouth very clearly revealed something unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant.
"And why are children born to such men as you? If you were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach you with," said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pensively.
"I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can't be helped!"
He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel fate by a gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated.
"Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal son Anatole?" she asked. "They say old maids have a mania for matchmaking, and though I don't feel that weakness in myself as yet,I know a little person who is very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of yours, Princess Mary Bolkonskaya."
Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness of memory and perception befitting a man of the world, he indicated by a movement of the head that he was considering this information.
"Do you know," he said at last, evidently unable to check the sad current of his thoughts, "that Anatole is costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And," he went on after a pause, "what will it be in five years, if he goes on like this?" Presently he added: "That's what we fathers have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?"
"Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was nicknamed 'the King of Prussia.' He is very clever but eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov's and will be here tonight."
"Listen, dear Annette," said the prince, suddenly taking Anna Pavlovna's hand and for some reason drawing it downwards. "Arrange that affair for me and I shall always be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good family and that's all I want."
And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to him, he raised the maid of honor's hand to his lips, kissed it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair, looking in another direction.
"Attendez," said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, "I'll speak to Lise, young Bolkonski's wife, this very evening, and perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your family's behalf that I'll start my apprenticeship as old maid."
But Yaris never having seen a nude woman before, said "Look you have fur in your armpits"
The town barber aptly named the barberian always said, "hair today gone tomorrow. The armpit thing shall be a thing of the past" snickering at his cleverness, he took the hair and threw it out the window not knowing that this was magical hair that grew like mad once it hit the soil.
The beast of burden standing outside was lifted as the hair grew. A kid from a distance said, "Hey isn't that yak in the hair stock?".
First he looked to see where the bell was coming from, then he looked down and wished he hadn't.
It takes a lot to get this fairy tale going with spanners in the works so many times,Never give Up!!
Vertigo was once thought to be a cow-wardly affliction but the dizziness caused the boy to yak all the while the yak will soon be at the same height in this little livestockless world.
"Ah!" thought Yaris... "Again, I saw a horrible dream?" Poor Yaris went outside and sat under a tree.
Thoughts were flowing in his mind, “Lonely hours are the best hours of life, because it’s the only time we share our deepest secrets with the most trusted person in the world - Ourselves", said Yaris.
Slapping himself firmly around the face and shouting "snap out of it", Yaris leapt to his feet grabbing his trusted AK47 in one hand and an extra clip of ammunition in the other.
He finished his schooling; he was missing his family a lot and thought to visit his home, where his family lives and he went back to his hut, packed all of his clothes and catched the train on time at 6:30 AM.
The Ronald McDonald Revolutionary army (tooting branch), hijacked the train on which he was traveling, at least he had his AK..
They were heading to trade Big Macs for ammunition and Yaris was caught up in this whole adventure.
He sat in the train along with his auto text and wrote what he liked and viewed, it was cold and foggy, the crisp breeze that softly flows by compelled him to cover up in extra clothing and he leaned on the left side of his seat and thought about times he spent with his family.
He remembered fondly those family days when he kept watch as his parents partook of the "pipe" and his older sister took the "johns" to her room.
Yes, those were the good old days. Sadly his parents passed away and all he is left with is the "pipe" which he enjoys occasionally. Hasn't seen his sister in years. Heard she moved to Kentucky.
But back to reality and what was going on in the train, Yaris idly fingered the trigger of the AK as he watched those McDonalds Fundamentalists.
Antsy was the only way you could describe Yaris because his normal ever steady composure was being tested by the smell of french fries as the train was steaming ever closer to Hamburg.
Suddenly, Yaris had a strong and terrible urge to go to the bathroom....looking around franticly, he saw that there wasn't any on the train!!
He had a sweet nap and at last the train stopped at the station, he got up and came out from the train and said "Punjab! Punjab! where I was born and brought up nand whilst he was walking, he felt rain drops on his cheeks, it was pouring.
The a snake snuck up from behind him and sheltered him from the rain. Yaris became the new Buddha from then on.
But a true Buddha needed to free himself from all earthly needs like fame, money, sex...unfortunately Yaris knew that he was still a pervert inside & decided to cut off his weenie in order to free himself from the lust for women.
However, once cut off the weenie took a life all of it's own, swelling to enormous size it went off to invade Tokyo..
The Psychologist looked up from his note pad, "ummm... it looks like you have a phallic obsession. Now, tell me about your childhood"
Yaris burst into crying & started to reveal his mysterious agonizing childhood memories...
"At that time I was only ten years old when a group of aliens (they call themselves: Annunaki)came in a flying saucer from the planet Nibiru...They abducted me & Sexually Abused me!!"
"Ummm.. an exestentialist fantasist - interesting. Tell me, were you breast fed?" The psychologist asked.
He saw some kids and joined their crowd and together, they ran and pranced around and splashed and laughed, he continued to his way to home.
His day dreaming came to a halt when the psychologist shouted at him to reveal his mysterious childhood memories.
by Novel Treasure4 years ago
Let's see how creative we can be. Let's write a story one sentence at a time per post to see what direction it takes us. The topic can go anywhere, but please let's keep it clean : )I will start it:The day started out...
by BenWritings5 years ago
Each person writes a sentence, and the next person creates the next sentence of the story.I will start it with:There once was a ferret, who lived in a tree.
by WordWielder4 years ago
Thanks kimback for the inspiration to do this with your last topic.... Simple rules: Every two lines have to rhyme, the next two lines have to rhyme as well but be different from the first lines. Be creative and make it...
by \Brenda Scully7 years ago
no more than 4 lines.... and we need them to rhyme... Though tired after a long day I am staying up writing Just having my say ...
by Renee S5 years ago
As I was driving down the road the other day I noticed.....
by kimback087 years ago
I'll begin our story with part of a sentence and the next person to post adds on to my post, and then the next post adds on to theirs and so on. HERE WE GO...
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