Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Mankato Backpage Inspiration

Being a writer, I am used to writer's block. I am also used to finding inspiration in the simplest of things. It could be in a news story, a song, or even in the smile of a child. But never did I think that I would find inspiration when perusing Mankato's Backpage. But I did, when I found this.

 When I read this I got on my knees in both thanks and humility.  Thanks to the muses for showing me such a beautiful piece of art, and humility in the knowledge that never, no matter how far into depravity or brain abuse I ventured, I would never produces a line like the one I just read.

It is, as I had mentioned, simply and act of pure genius.  It starts off slowly, like any beautiful piece of music.  Perhaps I simply have not heard of cloud 9 inches.  Perhaps it is like the regular cloud nine.  Perhaps I am in in the wrong part of Backpage.

Then it teases you with foreshadowing of crazy with the simple "come satisfy your c. raving".  What is c. raving?  Is it a name?  Is my c actually raving?  What is my c?...Ah, my C is raving for some cloud nine 9 inches.  It's all about context, it has layers.  It's starting to come together. This broad may be writing the deepest this may be the deepest escort ad since James Joyce posted in Craigslist.

But then the song must reach its crescendo, and this does not disappoint with

"Hey also sexcychoco her for maximum satisfaction ready to fullfil your every need u want be disappointed her to please you" 

Let that sink in for a little bit.  Can you make heads or tails of that? Are you having the same difficulty maintaining equilibrium I had while reading that?  If you are, it is because, like me, you have never been face to face with such unrelenting and uncompromising insanity and hatred for the English language.

I had tried to diagram that sentence, but soon gave up in face of the enormity of the task.  But from what I can piece together, if you want maximu satisfaction read to fullfil your every need you must, MUST sexcychoco her.  Oh, and sexcychoco I will.  And I must want to be disappointed for her to please me.  Or I must want to disappoint her for her to please me.  I'm sure it's one of the two.  And who the hell is "her" anyway?  Who is writing this?  Maybe her pimp, maybe she's cleverly using the third person to throw the cops off her trail.  The title does make use of the number 2, so maybe it is two girls.  But c'mon, you can't just start into a character like that without introducing her to the reader at all.  Like I said, I am just too simple to under stand this Pollock of a sentence.

Or did I say it was a song?  Hell, this thing has gotten even me confused about what I'm saying now.  I can't even keep it all straight anymore, but I have been inspired.  I'm going to go snort some Drano crystals and see what I can come up with.

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Friday, March 15, 2013

Heil Swimming Mankato!

AllenTesch | Mankato Fiction Sometimes you have to take time from your own stories and let life tell its own. This photo courtesy the Mankato Area Public Schools Community Education & Recreation guide for Summer 2013.

Isn't that just the cutest little swimming Nazi?

Monday, March 11, 2013

Long Walk

He knelt down next to the burnt foot tracks and took a break. He would have mumbled encouragement to himself if the wind wouldn't have swept the words away and there was anyone left to hear them.
He drank his last few drops of water, even though it meant burning his hands by taking off his gloves. It was something he had to do if he was going to find the man with the tracks.
And then?
He wiped the drops from his beard and rubbed the thin mud on his lips.
For years(?) now he had accepted the fact that he was the last of them all. The youngest fossil to be found if anyone ever came across this burning speck. But then he found the tracks.
If there was one, that meant there could be more.
And then?
He scanned the empty landscape, then got up to find out.
Hope and desperation do strange things to a person.
If anything ever did stumble across this speck again, and knew this man's story; they couldn't help but wonder if he laughed or cried, once he learned the tracks he was following were his own.