Rachel's Luck

"...They could hear folks gasp. The organist muttered, "Well that's one way to look at "till death do you part." It only took a second to put the handcuffs on his wrist and then hers. He was startled and then he was laughing and she was laughing. It was the only sound they heard in the church. She took the key from her glove and undid the lock to his side of the cuffs. As she did, she said the words soft and then loud so everyone could hear, "I release you from the obligations of marriage and instead give you it's joy and freedom to share life with me." Then she handed him the keys. Still no sound from the congregation. At first she thought he'd leave her side of handcuffs locked, but he said the words too and then added, "I love you."


He kissed her before the preacher got the words, "You may kiss-" out of his mouth.

Later, alot later, she'd tell her brother that marriage had liberated her. For the first time, she trusted someone not to leave. She trusted him to be honest even if they were miles apart ..."

Next: http://12dotsandablot.blogspot.com/2010/06/apart.html

(Note: before ANYONE jumps to conclusion. I don't write fan fic. I do, however, write fiction.)

...apart

They were fighting.
Again.



"You know if you didn't love me why in hell did you marry me in the first place." He was really sick of the way this dragged on and on and on - he was about to tune her out when he heard the words, "...fairly good orgasm."

"What did you say?"

"I said, I thought that I loved you but it was sex. Just sex and a fairly good orgasm."

That startled him enough to get his attention.



He let go of her hand. "Good." she said it out loud but soft. It was enough. At least she had his attention. If she could get him to listen maybe they could sort things out.

"Once upon a time..." she started the story and then he interrupted her. If she told it they'd never get to sleep. Maybe if he did it right she'd fall asleep or get in the mood. That wasn't a bad thing either.

"I'll tell it. You leave things out."

He looked at her. She was asleep.

"Good." he thought, " Anything to get her off the subject ...."

Next

http://12dotsandablot.blogspot.com/2010/06/subject.html

...the subject...

He watched her sleep. Jiggled her to make sure. She wasn't a sound sleeper so moving her was a risk but he tried and she didn't wake up. It was safe. That was the moment he decided to call Rachel and all the trouble began. There were moments in all this that were clear now. The times when he messed up. For the life of him he couldn't guess why he did this kind of thing but he did. This time it'd turned into a real mess.


from Rachel's Luck

6/18/10

by Author Ann
all rights reserved by the author.


-----------------Okay if you read the ebay 12 dogs and a blog blog you remember how the interactive short stories work. You might be able to read these post by post but the real story is in the blue links.

All together now,

The Slacker Chronicles aka 12dots and a blot (12dogs and a blog/blogspot) is a a writer's journal. Fact and fiction co exist here. If you don't know what's real and what isn't? Please. Don't ASSume. Ask.

Hugs.AA



story above is from the short story Rachel's Luck that I'm working on. It's a work in progress. I'm going to use the Interactive Short story format to work out plot. Might as well put it here for your entertainment.

Rachel's Luck

6/18/10



All rights reserved by the author

Sigh . Now this is funny.

Livin' the dream...

As many of you know by now, I've been kind of disinherited by my folks. They've kind of informed me that perhaps I might need to suppliment my income with -- a job.


Their suggestions?

Doing yard work. Working in the restaurant. Pool person.

Pool person?
"snert"

I'm unfortunately over qualified for these jobs.

I'm a writer. I've got a friggin' college degree.

I was worried.

Then? I talked to my friend that sells mild mannered milk goats.

I can follow this dream of being a "couch anchor", goat herder. But still there was so much self doubt.

So I talked to my friend the musician..



She's not afraid to follow her dream...

Be strong, Goat Herder Boy. Be strong and follow your dream of writing a successful blog about raising organic happy goats and making artisanal goat cheese for you parent's yuppy foodie friends..."

"The morning sun is shining like..." --




Written @

Diary of Goatherder Boy...

Day one:


Contemplated belly button lint.

Found new species of mold.


Thus sayeth The Goat Herder Boy.

This day 25 April, 2010



Sayeth his long suffering parents?

"It's gonna be a long summer."



Our son.

The one who has his college paid for.

The one who has a plot of land all paid for that will someday be his.

The one who is at this second practicing being a "couch anchor".

Is going to be a goat herder.

No scratch that.

He wants to be a fish wrangler.

That's his diary up there.

I want him to keep a diary of this year.

That's day one.


His father and I are going to be supportive. We're gonna buy hims a 39 dollar tent and put him out on his parcel of land. We're also giving him a sleeping bag, bottled water, ice chest, and a flash light.

Don't worry. He'll also get 20 dollars a week allowance and he's right next door to us.

If he's lucky he'll get to look at the car and can come eat supper with us.

I'm secretly hoping that this really is a phase.

My stomach hurts.

I woke up craving this song...

Uh not exactly.

This morning I woke up from a dream about having sex with someone I'm currently NOT talking to. We've never (incase you're wondering). Could have but didn't. Probably a good idea. Then I laid in bed paralyzed because of this question, "What if I can't anymore? What if the sum total of my sexual experiences were already over?"


Then I craved the song.

"..Bernadette..."

LOL "Rosebud. Rosebud."


Written @

Ooolala...oops?

White jeans before Memorial Day?????

Ooolala yeah.

Now if we can only we get "casual Fridays on the LLShow"



http://www.third-beat.com/?p=1250&cpage=1#comment-1470





Written @

From my late Uncle Edgar...

Not really but I kind of liked the quote...



"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night."
~Edgar Allan Poe




And he is a poet.

I guess that relates.


I'm not going to wish ANYONE a happy Earth Day.


(Not as long as these earthquakes keep happening.)



Written @

Poet. Remember.

Agrivating as it maybe, I'm supposed to write every now and again because after all I am a writer. This is one of the things that I do.


When I'm not slacking.

Mr. Music Please

There are trees outside.
For me, they mark time.
Winter branches
Spring flowers
Summer fruit.
Autumn leaves.
Then they fall
And start again
With Winter.



by Author Ann
4/20/10


Or this version.


"...

There are trees outside.
For me they mock the hours.

Like a clock.

Winter branches.
Spring flowers.
Summer fruit.
Autumn leaves.

Tick
Tock

Then they fall.

And start again
With Winter.


Clock
AuthorAnn
4/21/10





Those trees outside.
For me they mark the time.

Winter branches
Spring flowers
Summer fruit.
Summer leaves.
With Autumn they fall
And start again
With Winter.



There's more stuff but you have to click over on the left.

Written @

Happy day!!!

"...Act like you've got some sense..."

Now that's words to live by...

I love my sailboat.
I heart my dogs.

"Now gimme' some sugar. I am your neighbor..."



Written @

Therapy...

All these dreams and my friend's dream analysis has got me thinking.

Dreaming of having sex with men with rattlesnake penises is pretty creative.

Heck, I'm a writer.

I've got a great imagination.

Just think of all the stuff I could make up.

LOL, If I had a therapist? They would not be bored.

Come to think of it neither would I.

Hmmm.

Not to be political but wonder if Obamacare would pay for it?



:)

Written @

I had another dream...

No not about rattle snakes.

This time I dreamed I had sex.

I think I'm gonna tell my friend that I had sex with men who had rattlesnake penises.

Can't wait to hear what they have to say about it.




Written @

Dream lover...

A while back I dreamed about rattle snakes.

As soon as I woke up, I told someone about it.

Later they told me that it mean I had "...unresolved issues...".

I told them that it was spring and I had "...rattle snakes in heat..." issues.

(Where we live the rattlesnakes are emerging from their dens. They're sleepy, hungry, horney, and basically pizzed. You see rattlesnakes crossing the road all the time. I have yard work to do. Nothing unresolved about it.)

My friend insisted that I was wrong and that my subconscious was trying to tell me something.

I thought about it and started to tell them, "Why yes, you are correct. Everynight as I go to sleep watching Craig Ferguson and his rattlesnake mug my subconscious is in an epic battle of desire. Now shut up and lets go get coffee."

Then I thought about it some more and invited them to run barefoot through my back yard.

:D

Written @

I heart Izzy...

Izzy is a farty dog.

Izzy is a farty dog.

LOL I can't help it. It's funny.

She doesn't fart like a fog horn.

She poofs like the tiny little lady dog.

Then she looks up at me like she's saying,

"They that smelt it dealt it."


LOL

Written @

Dear Craig,

My dog Izzy is farty.

I wrote to Craig Ferguson for help and advice about this because his own dog is farty. Well and it would cost me 90 bucks to have the vet tell me, "Yes, your dog is farty."

Wonder if he'll write back?

Craig not his farty dog.

Eureka

As you read in the last post, I'm in a real pickle.

On the one hand I want a Twitter account and on the other hand I don't want to tell folks my birthday.

Then it came to me.

If Conan O'Brien could get his squirrel a Twitter account, I could get one for my dog Izzy.

Hurray.

Problem solved and no longer bored.


Written @

I'm bored ...

... and conflicted.

You see I want to get a Twitter account but I don't want to tell my real birthday.

What do I do?

Do I make stuff up?

OR

Do I tell the truth and risk being hacked.

This is a really difficult decision.

On the one hand I don't want to lie to people

but on the other hand I really want a Twitter account.

Does it count as a lie if your first tweet is.

"Dear Twitter, That's not my real birthday. I made it up. Love, Conflicted"

I'm not trying to deceive anyone and I would be telling them the truth.

Besides they just want to know if I'm 12 or not.

Which I'm not.

Lemmie think.

Hmm

Good news. I'm not bored.


Written @

I'm bored.

Remember how I wrote I was bored?

Used to be when I got bored that I'd write.

Not today.

Today I'm listening to Peter and the Wolf.

It's writen by some Russian guy named Prokofiev.

Dum dum dah dum dah dah dum dum dah dah dah -

Seriously, it's pretty good.

Now I'm bored with a better sound track.

I'm bored.

This helps...

http://12dotsandablot.blogspot.com/2010/03/113500-am-freud-vs-dog-whisperer.html


So does this...

http://www.thedoghousediaries.com/?p=334