Comments Posted By wildewood
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Jeeves never questioned his station in life; one ordained from the moment he was christened with the knid of name that made it superflouous to argue whether he would ever follow his father and become Mr. Wooster’s personal gentleman’s gentleman.
» Posted By Wildewood On 06.15.2011 @ 6:23 am
The reason for teh feud is long forgotten, held only by those too stubborn, too stupid, to evolve a new understanding and grow into soemthing better than themselves.
» Posted By wildewood On 11.04.2010 @ 11:58 am
A used tea bag isn’t lightly discarded by the discerning gardener.
» Posted By wildewood On 10.03.2010 @ 3:07 am
The acolyte looked up from his prayer book without a gleam of understanding in his dark eyes. “patience” my son, cautioned his elderly tutor.
» Posted By wildewood On 10.01.2010 @ 7:09 am
Ground control to Major Tom…commencing countdown, engines on. Check ignition, and may God’s speed be with you.
» Posted By Wildewood On 01.16.2010 @ 11:14 am
Nothing smells quite like the odour of frshly ground ginger, a rich golden powder that can spice a meal to perfection…or ruon it with a careless flick of the wrist.
» Posted By Wildewood On 01.14.2010 @ 7:59 am
I stood by the desk, fearfully a-tremble with anticipation of the cane descending with snake-swift speed to strike! once upon the palm of my outstretched hand. Ouch! The headteacher, Mr. Dick smiled fiendishly. “That’ll learn yer, won’t it?” I agreed wholeheartedly. It learned me to not get caught out of class, again.
» Posted By Wildewood On 01.12.2010 @ 7:14 am
A large yawn cracked the coal-black face of Dai, the driver. It had been a long night and his shift at the yard still had another hour to run. “Not to worry,” he thought. “Wife will have a hot bowl of soup ready on the table when i get home, so she will.”
» Posted By Wildewood On 01.03.2010 @ 7:09 am
The man looked furtively over the horn-rimmed edge of his polaroids and smirked. The stack of chips gleamed dully in the smoky light and his opponent knew the game was up: Aces high, winner takes all.
» Posted By Wildewood On 01.01.2010 @ 7:20 am
Needlenose was his nickname, for one very obvious reason: it was long and thin. It defined him as a person and made his job seem predestined. He was a tailor.
» Posted By Wildewood On 11.25.2009 @ 7:21 am
A spotlight shone directly into the eyes of the kangaroo: Bang! The rfile shot rang out with sudden finality.
» Posted By Wildewood On 11.24.2009 @ 10:32 am
G-faster stripes ran along the side of the grey morris minor like a streak of irony.
» Posted By Wildewood On 11.23.2009 @ 10:25 am
The old windmill creaked and groaned in the grip of early winter winds, determined to hold fast to the spot the millers’ sons hed inherited from their father and nine generations before him.
» Posted By Wildewood On 11.22.2009 @ 10:12 am
The rain was overflowing the gutter pipes and helter-skeltering down the drains with unrestrained glee, unfettered by wind and freed from the dense blanket of grey cloud that more resembled a teenagers laundry basket than the tranquil skies of the early morning, forgotten, now, in a deluge of unremitting weather…
» Posted By Wildewood On 11.21.2009 @ 10:23 am
The Eternal City has a long and bloody history. From the Caesers to Mussolini, Romans have endured much in their subservience to imperial power; whimsical and abstract, a legal fiction backed by political deviance and an unforgiving military power.
» Posted By Wildewood On 11.19.2009 @ 4:18 am
It was weird. The hippo took another look along the riverbank and blinked. There it went again. A flashing red light, fading to orange, zooming one way then another at dizzying speed. What could it be? thought he.
» Posted By Wildewood On 11.18.2009 @ 10:21 am
The long stem of his pipe jutted firmly between his cracked, yellowed teeth, a smile strecthing his lips wider than the bowl which reeked of the same fetid odour; a rank mixture of old beer, sweat and applewood.
» Posted By Wildewood On 12.09.2009 @ 6:47 am
A waiter carried the tea tray with utmost care, swerving this way and that to avoid the clutter of tables, busy with folk feeding themslelves upon the tender dainties with all the poise of a flock of gulls.
» Posted By Wildewood On 12.23.2009 @ 1:20 am
I wonder what’s causing the wobble? thought the mechanic, a puzzled frown creasing his wrinkled brow. It may just be the alignment of the front wheels, suggested his apprentice. The old man chuckled to himself, a rueful smile cracking his lips. He was learning fast.
» Posted By Wildewood On 12.20.2009 @ 12:29 pm
The aroma of pine needles always instilled a sense of nostalgia within the old man’s heart, a memory of better days now fading into the distance; sleigh bells ringing in the wake of Father Time who drew ever closer with each passing year.
» Posted By Wildewood On 12.14.2009 @ 11:51 pm
The stud fell from the cuff of his pristine shirt with a hollow rattle of despair upon the marble counter. The doctor cursed under his breath and sighed at his dishevelled reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror.
» Posted By Wildewood On 12.12.2009 @ 7:21 am
Deep within myself is a kernel of truth, guarded by a gibbbering gnome of scant repute, seated upon a toadstool, smoking a small, briar pipe: he’s a happy camper!
» Posted By Wildewood On 03.14.2010 @ 12:56 pm
A lawyer is a thief, a liar, a scapegoat and a trier for the best and worst attributes in mankind.
» Posted By Wildewood On 02.26.2010 @ 11:23 am
I can see the point of yoga but cannot quite attain the necessary posture for successfull meditation since my back precludes any kind of contortion for longer than a few minutes at a time. A fakir must have a body made from whipcord and leather.
» Posted By Wildewood On 01.25.2010 @ 7:32 am
Jeff, stared back at the shop steward with apprehension as the elder man scanned his clipboard with a rheumy eye. “Yeah, you’re name’s on the list,” he said laconically.” Jeff almost fainted from releif, he couldn’t afford to lose his job now a new baby was on the way.
» Posted By Wildewood On 01.19.2010 @ 11:38 am
Dirty dishes deep in the sink. It’s sunday; a day of rest…do ’em tomorrow: that’d be best.
» Posted By Wildewood On 01.17.2010 @ 12:09 pm
It’s that time of year again! Time to get out the seed catalogue and ponder what to grow this year: Peas, carrot, and spuds, of course, juicy tomato plants and frsh salad veg among the herbs and fruits make the garden a good place to be come summer.
» Posted By Wildewood On 01.01.1970 @ 12:00 am
Jean looked at her brother with mild distaste curling her upper lip up towards her pert nose. The beans were already at work and it would prove to be a long night ahead in such a small tent. He grinned back insolently and waggled an eyebrow. “Windy tonight,” was all he said.
» Posted By Wildewood On 02.05.2010 @ 11:43 am
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The conductor glared vigerously at the second violin, vexed beyond speech at another example of poor timing, throwing the orchestra out of tune for the umpteenth time that day. She looked back from under her blonde fringe, contrite yet determined to try harder.
» Posted By Wildewood On 02.02.2010 @ 8:15 am