I got the coolest notebook from Bryan and Liz for Christmas. It is orange (p)leather and it fills me with the desire to write but I’m at a blank lately. I had such dreams of taking the world by storm with my words and am wondering where my words have gone. Are they sleeping? Hiding from me? I don’t know. So help me out, guys. Is there anything you’d like me to write about (and you are NOT allowed to say chicken, Beth, not unless it is a request for a story about a chicken who takes over the world or something like that)? Any suggestions? Leave me a comment or shoot me an email at greenduckiesgirl AT comcast DOT net.

I came across this in my notebook recently. I never posted it because said notebook ended up sitting by the computer for the longest time (at least I don’t think I posted it. Did I? Now I am confused). Anyway, this is what happens when you ask Bryan for a writing suggestion.

I’ve not had a lot to post about lately. Just the whole moving thing. Ooh! The excitement. Wow! Last night I made my bed (okay, this is exciting when you consider I’ve not changed the sheets on my bed in, well, months I think) and Eddy decided to frolic while I was doing so. And, no, I’m not all packed (but I am so much closer to being packed than I was when I moved into the place that I’m feeling pretty good about myself).

Murder Mystery ala Bryan

When searching for post ideas, I sometimes find it helpful to ask my friends. Usually a word or two might trigger an idea. Using this thought, I decided on Sunday to ask Bryan what he thought I should write about.

Bryan’s (ruggedly handsome (as he reminds us)) face wrinkles in thought. And then he says the following:

Bryan: How about a murder mystery where the only clue is sausage gravy?

There is a dramatic pause.

Bryan: Which is odd because the victim never enjoyed a biscuit in his life.

I’m not really sure how to respond to this. But I’m a trooper. The show (or blog in this case) must go on.

A few minutes later, Bryan returns.

Bryan: How’s it going?
DM: Yeah. This is about all I can come up with.

I hand him my notebook.

DM’s notebook:

“Fascinating, Captain. The victim was found face down in a plate of sausage gravy.”

“What’s so fascinating about that?”

“Oddly enough, he had an extreme aversion to biscuits.”

DM: I’m not really sure why the deputy sounds like Spock.
B (Beth): I was wondering about that.
Bryan: How about the vegetarian suspect says “Well, I would never make sausage gravy.”?

Dramatic pause.

Bryan: Or would he?

Later he comes back, a crazed look in his eyes.

Bryan: And there could be a long conversation about whether the (not sure if he meant victim or murderer here) guy was vegan or vegetarian and the detective could say “It doesn’t matter. It’s still meat.”

I love Bryan. I really do. But sometimes he scares me a little.

Another night (or possibly the same because you know I can’t be bothered to actually date anything since that would be logical and I seem to run screaming away from anything logical (well, except for Beth and Keem)) I wrote this:

The downfall of society is not Bush as president. Oh no. According to Beth, it is lighting made from antlers. And I might have to agree with her (we were watching this hunting/fishing show and they were showing you this resort where they have a chandelier made from antlers. Why do people think this is a good home decorating idea? What’s next? Flannel seat covers?) about this.

Watching the same show, we saw someone stepping on wild rice and then putting it into a basket and shaking it.

B: They’re losing all of their rice.
DM: No, that’s how you separate the rice from the chaff.

Pause.

DM: Why do I know that? I can’t figure out how to balance a checkbook but I know how to make wild rice. That’s helpful.

Later. Beth starts singing a random song.

B: I just made up a song. Did you like it?
DM: Yes, I did.
B: It’s called Da Doop Da Dee Bee Dee Be Doo. There’s a profound meaning behind the lyrics. Have you heard the chorus yet?
DM: No.
B: Da Doop Da Dee Bee Do Bee Doop Da CHICKEN Dee Bee Dee Be Do!

I, of course, lose it. She created a complete nonsense song just so she could throw the word chicken in there.

We also watched a show about plastic surgery where they were showing before and after shots of women. One of us remarked that none of these women really looked any different from their before shots, except for the fact that they were a) smiling and b) had pulled the hair out of their eyes. We decided to make our own before and after pictures to prove our point.

B (trying to get me to look sad): Think of someone killing puppies in a Cambodian death mine.

This does not make me sad. This makes me laugh. Which is proof that I am an evil person.

In the before pictures we look pale and wan and horribly, horribly depressed. In the after pictures, smiling makes our faces light up which proves to us that a smile is much better than having someone jab poison into your face.

*Updated to add the following*

Freaking BLOGGER! Stop telling me I’m not authorized to view pages. Stop it! I want to comment on sites! And it’s delurking week, not that I’m a lurker, mind you, but still! Why? Must? You? Frustrate? Me? So? And? Why? Am? I? Talking? Like? William? Shatner?

Advertisements