Wordgrove Post & Review

Quoted in the Grove:
Submitted by MissMerry

Politics is the art of controlling your environment. That is one of the key things I learned in these years, and I learned it the hard way. Anybody who thinks that ‘it doesn’t matter who’s President’ has never been Drafted and sent off to fight and die in a vicious, stupid War on the other side of the World — or been beaten and gassed by Police for trespassing on public property — or been hounded by the IRS for purely political reasons — or locked up in the Cook County Jail with a broken nose and no phone access and twelve perverts wanting to stomp your ass in the shower. That is when it matters who is President or Governor or Police Chief. That is when you will wish you had voted.
~Hunter S. Thompson

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Posted from the Grove:

If there is interest for this week’s Thurs Word Games, an abbreviated meeting can be cobbled together for a short chat and catching up on member news. An Impromptu exercise may be added. Otherwise, Wordgrove will surrender its usual place on the calendar for this Thanksgiving. Until next: safe travels, happy gatherings, and peace around the table on this our purest and most grateful of holidays.

Prewritten for Thurs (12/01) @6pm PT/9 ET is: tiptoe, bounce, flush
Choose 2 0f 3

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30 Sticky Notes That Are Brutally Honest About Adult Life
http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/1lsCJX/

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Calligraphy: Writing beautifully for the ages, or the next commercial break. Strangely satisfying watching words emerge
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNfbfLahm1E

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@Writers Platform:
Pewritten: frowzy, bamboo

~MissMerry: Prewritten by MM

She took another drag on her cigarette, then blew the smoke up into the air as if she were a whale with a grey smoke spout. She flicked the butt over into the water, picked a stray bit of tobacco off her tongue, then scratched up into a thatch of frowzy grey hair crammed up under a Gilligan hat. Her gnarly hands clutched at the handle of an ancient bamboo pole, which she dangled out over the water.

“No fishing, NO FISHING!! Who the hell does he think he is?” she cackled. “He can come down here and tell me himself – if he has the balls!”

“He just asked me to be telling you the rules, Ms. Julia. I don’t think he was tryin’ to stir you up or nothin’.”

The orderly shook his head and turned to walk back toward the assisted living home, wondering where she had got the old piece of bamboo from. Besides, she knows there weren’t no fish in that fountain, anyway.

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~Greymane: Waffles and Brandy

Waffles and Brandy had painted the sand
with tails they dipped in the sea
A tapestral masterpiece carefully planned
by chimps who could never agree

They painted a mural across the lagoon
reflecting the silent night sky
The mystical monkeys would mourn for the moon
with a chimpanzee tear in their eye

They gathered from jungley places unknown
and forests that nobody knew
From cavernous canopies long overgrown
and castles they built from bamboo

They formed an alliance concerning them all
from marmoset clear to baboon
They were in this together until the stars fall
and the sky had turned loose of the moon

They built up a kingdom of nonsense and stink
A paradise primates request
But every last monkey was missing a link
Cos monkeys are frowzy at best

The monkeys were crazy, as monkeys can be
and went just a little too far
and as mentioned before monkeys seldom agree
except when they stare at the stars

So Waffles and Brandy repainted the sky
to look a bit more like the land
and all of the monkeys said tearful goodbyes
to all of the mayhem they’d planned

Of monkeys and kingdoms in painted lagoons
not fit for gorilla or beast
To sit in the sand and gaze at the moon
is fancy for monkeys at least

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~BarTalk: Sir Panda’s Plaint

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