Isn't this the seventh sign?
Two days in a row... Wow, let's not get used to this, this can't be a regular thing... It'd be nice if it were but I'm not going to get my hopes up. And now rather than commenting on my lameness how about I just move on? Sounds like a plan, sure it does.
So things are going... interestingly... Can't say much right now but needless to say, I'm enjoying the insanity 'cause I'm a kook like that.
Anyway, the main reason for this (and yeah, I hope to turn this away from just being a recepticle for my writing exercises someday but I'm going to be plenty happy with things if that's all that this is for a while, gotta start somewhere like I said) is today's scribblings. I prefer to get to this first thing in the morning but today I got a bit of a late start and couldn't get to it till now. I'm glad to see I pulled cootinator back into this stuff as well. It's more fun when someone else is out there playing along, and he's a much better writer than he gives himself credit for. I'll check his stuff out as soon as I post mine.
I ended up with a weird little running gag in this thing. Started by accident then I just wanted to see if I could work it in a couple different ways, to varied levels of success... Eh, take a look at it it's the...
04-06-05 Writing Exercise
#2877, "Zette's Gym - Day 1411 - Wednesday, 06 April, 05"
FIRST IMPRESSIONS...
It's an oldie, but a goodie. Today, try your hand at one sentence character description. Try to show what a character is like with just one glance. use physical attributes, mannerisms, even the comments of others in dialog. Anything, as long as it is no more than a singel sentence. Then, see how many of them you can do.
Justin
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Not a whole lot of room for interpretation on this one, pretty straight forward, yet I still find a way to mark it with my own tasty brand of tomfoolery. Ho-ho, chuckly chuckle...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
He had the kind of face you just wanted to punch.
Murielle was a gentle soul, wouldn't harm a fly, but she had no problem helping me carve up bodies after the killin' was done.
"I don't know what it is about him," Fay mewed. "But I just want to punch him in the face sometimes."
She limped like a hunchback and growled whenever she heard her name.
Preston Fletcher moved in such a smooth, fluid gate I found myself glancing down to the floor to see if his feet were even touching the ground.
Poor Brent McKlintok; looked all his life like someone had just sprung out from around the corner a second earlier and punched him in the face.
Alice made rags and twine shimmer like silk and lace.
If he weren't missin' a tooth 'r three an' that big 'ol chunk 'a ear, Billard might almost coulda been confused fer handsome.
A missing limb, even just a finger or two, was always off putting to me, but looking at old Fenton I honestly couldn't imagine him WITH all his appendages.
Maurice was a smug little prick with a kind of unwarranted air of superiority that just made you want to punch him in the face.
Yusef shuffled timidly towards the snack table, invisible to the world he still couldn't help but feel every eye was judging his every slouched step.
With a loopy half grin and the cocking of an eyebrow, Drake's cool practically lowered the room temperature ten degrees.
He was a clumsy, oafish, clod of a man, gripping his fork like a spade shovel and dribbling the quiche down his stubble dusted chins.
With the brim of his tattered felt hat pulled down across his brow it was rare you would ever catch a glimpse of Bernie's soft blue eyes, which was how he liked it.
Francis sighed as he sank back into bed and re-cradled the phone; for what ever reason, no matter what he did, it always felt like the world was just lining up, waiting their turn, to wind up and punch him in the face.
So things are going... interestingly... Can't say much right now but needless to say, I'm enjoying the insanity 'cause I'm a kook like that.
Anyway, the main reason for this (and yeah, I hope to turn this away from just being a recepticle for my writing exercises someday but I'm going to be plenty happy with things if that's all that this is for a while, gotta start somewhere like I said) is today's scribblings. I prefer to get to this first thing in the morning but today I got a bit of a late start and couldn't get to it till now. I'm glad to see I pulled cootinator back into this stuff as well. It's more fun when someone else is out there playing along, and he's a much better writer than he gives himself credit for. I'll check his stuff out as soon as I post mine.
I ended up with a weird little running gag in this thing. Started by accident then I just wanted to see if I could work it in a couple different ways, to varied levels of success... Eh, take a look at it it's the...
04-06-05 Writing Exercise
#2877, "Zette's Gym - Day 1411 - Wednesday, 06 April, 05"
FIRST IMPRESSIONS...
It's an oldie, but a goodie. Today, try your hand at one sentence character description. Try to show what a character is like with just one glance. use physical attributes, mannerisms, even the comments of others in dialog. Anything, as long as it is no more than a singel sentence. Then, see how many of them you can do.
Justin
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Not a whole lot of room for interpretation on this one, pretty straight forward, yet I still find a way to mark it with my own tasty brand of tomfoolery. Ho-ho, chuckly chuckle...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
He had the kind of face you just wanted to punch.
Murielle was a gentle soul, wouldn't harm a fly, but she had no problem helping me carve up bodies after the killin' was done.
"I don't know what it is about him," Fay mewed. "But I just want to punch him in the face sometimes."
She limped like a hunchback and growled whenever she heard her name.
Preston Fletcher moved in such a smooth, fluid gate I found myself glancing down to the floor to see if his feet were even touching the ground.
Poor Brent McKlintok; looked all his life like someone had just sprung out from around the corner a second earlier and punched him in the face.
Alice made rags and twine shimmer like silk and lace.
If he weren't missin' a tooth 'r three an' that big 'ol chunk 'a ear, Billard might almost coulda been confused fer handsome.
A missing limb, even just a finger or two, was always off putting to me, but looking at old Fenton I honestly couldn't imagine him WITH all his appendages.
Maurice was a smug little prick with a kind of unwarranted air of superiority that just made you want to punch him in the face.
Yusef shuffled timidly towards the snack table, invisible to the world he still couldn't help but feel every eye was judging his every slouched step.
With a loopy half grin and the cocking of an eyebrow, Drake's cool practically lowered the room temperature ten degrees.
He was a clumsy, oafish, clod of a man, gripping his fork like a spade shovel and dribbling the quiche down his stubble dusted chins.
With the brim of his tattered felt hat pulled down across his brow it was rare you would ever catch a glimpse of Bernie's soft blue eyes, which was how he liked it.
Francis sighed as he sank back into bed and re-cradled the phone; for what ever reason, no matter what he did, it always felt like the world was just lining up, waiting their turn, to wind up and punch him in the face.