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View Full Version : Creative writing 101... Collect your $$ today! CONTEST


Al_Capone_Junior
05-31-2004, 08:45 PM
ok.

So I dun went fishin' today. I dun drank more beers than I actually caught fish (truth be told). I have $10 to blow on pokerstars... and I have a contest to be held in honor of my drunked ass fisherman-ness!

Here's the categories...

1. Gina Gershon is so @#$%@#$ HOTT that... /images/graemlins/grin.gif

2. Went fishin' today ... /images/graemlins/grin.gif

3. Hello all you boys and girls, I'd like to take you to the inside world. It's quite an irregular place to be, but never fear, you're safe with me ... /images/graemlins/grin.gif

Compose.

Truth is NOT an issue.

the winner gets $10 poker stars $$ from me. /images/graemlins/grin.gif

Contest ends June 3rd, 11:59 pm eastern time. All posts must be made by that time, according to official 2+2 time.

The winner will be decided by ME. /images/graemlins/grin.gif All judges decisions are FINAL.

al

1800GAMBLER
05-31-2004, 11:13 PM
Went fishin' today and wasn't catching much, but i always take nachos and chili dip along to keep me entertainned. 30 minutes later and i've still caught nothing but the chili sauce has taken control of my insides. So i decided to release inside of a empty wine bottle which i find in the bush probably left by an old wineo. So i set it up on the peg, squat over it and start laying a cable. Then out of [censored] nowhere a small cruise ship with a party of middle aged women and husbands come past and catch me in full glory. All i can hear are cameras and guys shouting, 'hey Paul, come take a look at this idiot with a turtles head hanging out.'

M2d
05-31-2004, 11:22 PM
One More Cast
The shadows played tricks on his mind. Dancing left and right, as the light from the single overhead lamp flickered, mystery shadows appeared in the water then disappeared as quickly as they materialized. Through it all, his bobber bounced in the waves. Up and down. Up and down.
It looked like a long night ahead and hopefully heíd have something to show for it. Jane was out of town; visiting a sick friend in Fresno, she said. Comes back tomorrow. "Maybe I can greet her with a steamed striper dinner-her favorite," he thought. Up and down. Up and down.
The pier was almost empty. A couple of fishermen on the end with big rigs. Sharks or rays, he thought to himself. A couple of Mexican and Black kids listening to the radio a few windbreaks down. An old Cambodian couple fishing by the foot. An Asian couple strolling after an early dinner at Skates; probably Cal students. Thatís it.
There were a few more fishermen out when he had arrived, though they were long gone. When he got to the pier, it was just about sunset on a clear Nor-Cal day. He could see all the way past the Golden Gate Bridge, and he was treated to an explosion of reds and yellows as the sun fell past the city. There was a flurry of action on his sabiki, too, as he quickly caught a nightís worth of shiners on just three drops. No action since then, though, as on of those shiners swam under his bobber. Up and down.
The last rays of light crept over the city in the distance as he finally sat back in his lawn chair. Finally, a chance to relax! The scurry of catching bait, setting up his rod, and making the first cast always resulted in an adrenalin rush that kind of knocked him out when he was done.
He sat back and let his shoulders sag, at last. The last strains of Suavecito by Malo drifted down the pier from the kidsí boombox. Damn, that song was good. He remembered when it first came out; he was working on his fatherís flower farm down in Hollister. His fatherís hired help, Ruben introduced him to the music, then, and they grooved though the long summer clipping roses for market and listening to the beats. That was thirty years ago and a universe away. Wonder what Rubenís up to now? He must be over sixty. Hope he got the hell out of Hollister.
What was that? He thought he saw a shadow in the water, out of the corner of his eye. He quickly checked his bobber. Was it shaking slightly? Was the shiner nervous? Better pay attention. Concentrate, dammit.
The Asian couple was back, now, returning from their walk, the guy humming "How Deep is Your Love" by the Bee Gees. Man, those kids are young. How do they know that song? The fisherman watched them stroll away, and images of New York City, circa 1978 came into mind.
Disco was king, then, but not for this motivated business student. While students around him flocked to the nightclubs, he stayed in his dorm room and studied. A senior that year, it looked like heíd be able to graduate from NYU a semester early and take that internship on Wall Street. Gotta study, gotta graduate. The future is not in Hollister on the farm.
A DBA from Wharton was next on the agenda, then a corporate job leading to a CFO position. Life was all planned out then. Everything seemed so simple, but Jane was the complication that he didnít count on. She swept into his life in 1980 at a conference in Tampa. She was represented a firm in San Francisco, and, like him, was the only child of a Japanese farmer who had gotten out of the business. She was everything he was, but maybe a tad less motivated. Not a big deal at the time, since her beauty made up for that.
Suddenly, Haas School of Business was looking much more attractive. Maybe a MBA was all right, too. A corporate job on Wall Street could be replaced by one in the financial district in SF, and, when he was accepted to Berkeley the following spring, the decision was made.
They married three years later, in the summer of í83, just after he received his diploma. She opened her PR firm a year after that, and he climbed the corporate ladder in the financial district. Through the nineties, their lives seemed like smooth sailing. Her firm had more work than it could handle, and he was a CFO of a fledgling technology firm. The hours were long, but the company had so much upside that he would have been crazy to turn the position down. Ten-hour days turned into twelve and then sixteen. There were nights that he slept in his office because he was too tired to drive back home.
As the end came near, the days got even crazier. She came down to the office most days just so they could share a meal together. When the dot-bomb tsunami took out the tech sector, his company was caught up in the wave. Suddenly, he was approaching fifty, out of work and with no prospects. Jane had to put in extra hours at her office to cover the coupleís expenses, and he could do nothing but pack her lunches.
He couldnít recall when her trips back to Fresno started, but he suddenly realized that they were getting more and more frequent. Funny, heíd never even been to the place. Never met her friends; never seen her familyís home. Hadnít been back to Hollister in a while, either. Dad and Mom came up to visit from time to time, but he could barely remember what the farm looked like. He remembered nights like tonight, warm, windless summer nights. They were his favorite, but he couldnít even put an image to the memory.
The bobber dove suddenly into the cloudy water. His rod tip jerked violently, but, just as quickly, it sprang back, and the bobber resumed itís hypnotic up and down. He reeled his rig in and found the hook empty shining at him in the meager light, like a crooked, wan smile. Time to rebait. Time to start over again.

baggins
06-01-2004, 03:01 AM
Hello Boys and Girls! have any of you ever been fishing? you have? well, today we're going to go fishing, though it might be a bit different from the fishing you're all used to. so, Gina Gershon is so #$%#@$ hot, right? well, we're going to take you the inside world of Gina Gershon right now, on a 'fishing trip' of sorts...

Al_Capone_Junior
06-01-2004, 08:43 AM
al

Al_Capone_Junior
06-01-2004, 03:19 PM
al

Al_Capone_Junior
06-02-2004, 08:46 AM
al d