This is the post excerpt.
This is a new space for me. Here you will find stories, poems and literary things. My passive-aggressive posts are located at the regular location. I will be filling this page soon. Give me a few moments to get myself together.
This is also a place for you to share your postables.
Today is not going well. Jolene and I missed our bus. No, we do not live together like two spinster sisters, this is not Midsomer Murders. I love Jolene to death, only I don’t think I could live with her at this point. She lives two stops down from me in a nicer house. I should not have mentioned the house. I live in a house as well.
Jolene and I got an invitation to our cousin’s wedding in Vancouver, BC. I did not know she lived in Vancouver. I am sure you didn’t either. Then again, you don’t know Candace. I am trying to come up with a plan to accidentally forget to go to her wedding and be covert enough to get all the sites in before we leave Van City. That is what the folks there call it, I think. Maybe I should look that up before I set it in stone. Divine, my girlfriend, through the power of Gruff Rhys (lead singer of Super Furry Animals), mentioned that British Columbia (BC) has the best marijuana in the country.
Due to the wait for the bus, which came quicker than I hoped, this will not be a ten minuter.
(This is the beginning of my short story collection. I have finished the second set in this series, which will come in the next few weeks. Please, take a read and let me know what you think. I send a big thanks out to Dave for his editorial edits. Thank you! – Wendalynn)
For a lark, I decided to write for ten minutes every day for seven days. I cannot understand how I convinced myself to do this and for what purpose. The rule is (I think there is one rule) is to not correct spelling mistakes, paragraph formats, syntax (I had to Google that) and just live with what is left over. I am trying to not fix my mistakes, though I do, on occasion, write like I am preparing a collection of memes. I need to find myself some talking cats. Or I could get my sister Jolene (she didn’t pick the name) to draw some for me. Yes, cats are still a thing. Apparently.
Jolene and I (my name being Isobel – not my choice either) must have been destined to be friends. Sisters, well that was determined by Biology (or God, depending what side you are on). She is three years my senior. Technically, I am two years younger at one point in the year due to when we were released into the atmosphere. June 1974 for me and September 1971 for her. In most cases, three years can make all the difference in the world when it comes to music, television and Star Wars, but not for us. One thing is a bit different, though, I do have a better book sense than she does. What she lacks in readability, she makes up for in driveability.
I am on my fourth car in less than five years.
This will be the only conscience-based post I will put up here. I set up some ideas about how I want you to view this space.
I do believe we should be allowed to express an opinion, the only problem I have is the reason behind it. Oddly enough, the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms allows people to be racist (for example), though it also protects those who are subjects of hate-speech.
You have every right to criticise a religion, a government or a celebrity; yet, you need to understand others have the right to challenge your process. Reposting a meme or a rant from someone who fits in your hate space is not a form of dialogue. Okay, it is if you are 17 years old and having an argument over the best episode of ‘Big Bang Theory’.
Be cautious of what you say, as we are in a place of wanting a verbally cleaner place. This may mean taking stock of what you term as “important” in regards to ethics and morals. There is not an increase in xenophobia, only now we see those committing it no longer being afraid to hide it. That being said, those of us looking for a better place also need to be aware we cannot be arseholes either.
I have tried to combat the hate with love but that does not work all the time. I do occasionally ask for those in full speed hate to take a day off. It could mean they are tired of watching Bravo Television six hours a day. Or, they may need to use the facilities.
Sometimes having a poo can make things feel so much better.
Cull your hate-filled herd if you need to, I do it quite often. I also encourage some engagement (this applies to close relationships, mind); this is a reminder to both of you that there are parameters to adhere to. Those mashings that involve unknown combatants should be taken with a bit more care. By care, I mean do not engage. These conflicts are for “likes” more than anything – disregard. Agreements need to be set up, arguements hashed out – hopefully ending in a beverage of choice (if a personal meeting) or a meme hug (if on the Internet).
Hello, my friendlies!
I apologise immensely for not being here for a while. I am writing up a storm and I am contemplating posting my stories as a podcast.
Stayed tuned. Don’t worry, the next instalment will not be next year.
Eight classic poems about the city of Oxford Oxford has been home to a number of poets, and has educated far more. Some of them have seen fit to celebrate the city of Oxford in their poetry – below are eight of the finest Oxford poems in all of English literature. Matthew Arnold, Thyrsis. This […]
via The Best Poems about Oxford — Interesting Literature
‘Hold up thy tail thy Satanas’ said he
‘Show forth thine arse the friar see
Where is the nest of the friars in this place!’
And ere that half furlong way of space
Right so as bees come swarming from the hive,
Out of the devil’s arse began to drive
Twenty thousand friars in a route.
And throughout hell they swarmed all about
And came again as fast ad they may gone
And in his arse they crept in every John!
The Summoner’s Prologue