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July 16, 2005

Volume 3, Issue 16

Today's theme comes with instructions.

1. Grab a nearby book and open it to page 47.
2. Find the fourth sentence on the page.
3. Find the seventh word from the start of that sentence.
4. If it is a noun, adjective, or verb, make it the title and theme of your 100 words and get to writing!
5. If it's not a noun, adjective, or verb, continue reading until the next noun, adjective, or verb you hit. Make this the title and theme of your 100 words.

Feel free to include the name and author of the book you're using at the end of your post, although not in your word count.

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Comments

She doesn't have to explain herself to you. She is what she is, and therefore does what she does, and that's all you need to know.

The "shocking" color of her hair, the tattoos and piercings, that's just the way she is, and if it makes you uncomfortable, that's your own thing, not hers.

You can feel free to look down your nose at her, the nose you're quite fond of saying is continually to the grindstone, but you should be careful. Be aware that she can kick your ass should the desire arise.

She's daddy's little punk rock girl.

Posted by: Adam at July 16, 2005 7:18 AM · Permalink

Word was "explain," from Carl Sagan's "Cosmos."

Posted by: Adam at July 16, 2005 7:19 AM · Permalink

Alashiyah looked in the mirror for any telltale bulges that might give him away before he could accomplish his mission. Satisfied, he left his apartment and went to the corner to catch the bus to the Green Zone.

Before they could enter the Green Zone, everyone on the bus had to debark and submit to a search. He got in line behind a large man in a bulky jacket, and slowly shuffled toward the checkpoint. As the large man reached the gate, Alashiyah pulled his hidden pistol and shot him before he could set off the explosives under his jacket.

(Isaac Asimov, Asimov's Guide to the Bible - The Old Testament)

Posted by: hnumpah at July 16, 2005 7:27 AM · Permalink

Getting dressed was a ritual for Jack. Every garment was painstakingly chosen for maximum effect and then slowly donned. Finally, black shoes, shined to reflective brilliance, were laced over dark silk stockings. “Very dapper indeed,” he smiled at the reflection in the mirror. “Quite the lady killer.”

Before he left, he selected his finest silver walking stick and opened the black leather pouch with the crimson velvet lining. He placed some grapes and two coppers into the pouch and removed all but his sharpest scalpel.

Then Jack extinguished the gas lamps and strode forth into the squalid streets of Whitechapel.

(The word was ‘pouch’ from The Gates of Thorbardin by Dan Parkinson (shameless plug)

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at July 16, 2005 10:42 AM · Permalink

Frank didn’t know when the coffee shop had gone so far downhill. It blared out to him on the side of the container “WARNING! Contents are approximately -20C to +150C.”

“Damn” he thought to himself as he took his first sip. The coffee was cold and bitter, like his wife. Frank only continued to gamble at this establishment because once in a blue moon some lucky patron would strike it rich, goldmine. This coffee would taste as if it was brewed directly from the fruits of ambrosia.

But, until he received that cup, it was -20C to +150C for him.

[that was "-20C" (to +150C) with some creative interpretation from the Digi-Key corporation product catalog]

Posted by: Dirk at July 16, 2005 11:00 AM · Permalink

Earl climbed through the fence, being careful to avoid the barbs in the darkness. Then he reached back through and got the two five-gallon cans and the section of garden hose. He soundlessly made his way down the path between the recreational vehicles and travel trailers.

He selected a huge Winnebago and felt along the side for the cap. He unscrewed the cap, inserted the hose, and started to prime the siphon. One second later, he screamed and threw up. Lights came on but he didn’t care. All he could think about was heaving his guts out. Wrong damn cap!

(Durco Pump Engineering Manual. Word: siphon)

Posted by: ErnieG at July 16, 2005 11:21 AM · Permalink

No you can't! Yes I Can! No You CAN'T! YES, I CAN!

They had been at it for what seemed like hours. This particular episode was the latest in a very long day. I was frustrated almost to the breaking point. I broke it up before it got out of hand.

They each went back to their desks, sulking. The stares between them melted anything between. I give them assignments that should keep them away from each other, but that never works for long.

I wish I could fire them, but their dad is the boss, so I can't. CAN'T!

["can't" from March Upcountry by David Weber]

Posted by: JAB at July 16, 2005 3:51 PM · Permalink

Sure, that stool's free.
Barkeep, 2 Buds please! Thanks.

Youngsters! Computers. Rock music. Designer drugs. Bah!
That's not power.

Back in my time, 'fore Prohibition, we had the best brew in the world!
Not this artificial, mass-produced, flavorless shit.

Brew back then was rich and powerful. Strong, was it ever strong.
We had REAL eye of newt, not grown in a vat somewhere.
The blood of virgins had POWER then. A wizard's life was GLORIOUS!

With the right brew in me, I could raise the dead!
Now, all I can raise is a hangover. Damned prohibitionists.

Barkeep! Another Bud? Thanks.

-- Clone Brews (recipe book for homebrewers) by Tess and Mark Szamatulski

Posted by: Randy Shane at July 16, 2005 7:50 PM · Permalink

"So just what do you belive in?, my students ask.

It's the same question I get every year when I tell my students that I do not believe in religion, Jesus, heaven, or prayer. I always follow up my introductory lesson on religion with the statement that I am a deist, and that I don't believe in religion. Then I explain that I believe in a creator, and go over the whole "clockmaker" explanation of Deism.

The ones who come up to me and solemenly tell me that they will pray for me are the ones I appreciate the most.

"Believe" Dies the Fire, S.M. Stirling

Posted by: Gahrie at July 16, 2005 11:15 PM · Permalink