What Am I? A Saturday Centus

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It’s Saturday at long last!

On Saturdays I always go to Walmart to stock up on necessary provisions - usually a 24-pack.

Then I think intently about mowing the lawn before finding a reason not to (ie. radiation exposure, alien abduction, anything on TV, etc.) and then I take a shower whether I need one or not.

But my favorite Saturday activity is Saturday Centus, a weekly writing meme hosted by the beloved Queen of Centusia herself, Jenny Matlock at her blog, off on my tangent.

This is week 47 of Saturday Centus.  Every week Jenny gives us a prompt to include in a short story or poem with only an additional 100 words.  It’s a quick and fun writing exercise that really gets your creativity fired up.

The only rules are: keep your word count  to 100 words maximum not including the prompt, no vulgarity, no splitting or altering the prompt, and no pictures or illustrations.  It’s a fun challenge and an opportunity for all us Centusians and wannabe writers to practice our skills each week.

This week our dear Jenny has upped the challenge a notch by making this week’s Centus a poetry assignment, the rhyming kind of poetry, more akin to Dr. Seuss than Elizabeth Barrett Browning.  As for our prompt, she has graciously gifted us with the line " I'm not a chicken."    So all of you out there in blogland play along this week!  Stir up your creative juices and get your rhyming on!  This will be a fun one!

Okay, let me just say for the record that poetry and verse is not my bailiwick.  I enjoy reading it, but writing it is WAY out of my comfort zone so please be kind!  Here is my contribution for this week’s Saturday Centus.  I have entitled it:

What Am I?

Twenty Questions was the game,

Who would deduce my animal name?

Friends Jen and Kat and Sue would guess,

But only one would find success.

Was I a lion, a kangaroo or a pig?  No way!

You’ll have to do better to win today.

How about a monkey, a hippo, a zebra or giraffe?

A blue-footed booby?

Now you’re making me laugh.

No, I’m not a chicken, a mouse or even a cow,

A few more guesses is all I’ll allow.

Am I a horse?  Yes, of course!  You win, hooray!

Thanks all for playing, now have a great day!

"And what will you do when you grow up to be as big as me?" asked the father of his little son. 

"Diet." 

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Memories of Grandpa, A Saturday Centus

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Another week has passed and it's time once again for another foray into the realm of literary succinctitude.  (You don't think that's a word?  Feel free to refudiate me if you wish.)  This is week 46 of Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus, that challenging writing meme that has all of Spunky Puddle, Ohio blowing spit bubbles and screaming obscenities at trees.  In case you didn't know, this is considered very high praise in Spunky Puddle!  Plenty of other people also love this weekly writing exercise hosted at Jenny's blog, off on my tangent.  They just show it in slightly different ways.

So I bet you are wondering, "Hey Tom, how can I become a Centusian like you and participate in this fun-filled meme?"  Good question!  All you have to do is write a really short, short story of no more than 100 words not including the supplied prompt.  Your story can't use any vulgarity or include any photos or illustrations of any kind and you are not permitted to alter the prompt in any way.  After posting your story to your blog, link it back to Jenny's meme post so the other Centusians can share in your obvious dementia and pray for your eternal salvation.

This week's prompt was a simple three-word phrase without any tricks or gimmicks of any kind.  Maybe next week Jenny will begin challenging us again with her evil genius creative twists (ie. from the perspective of a Russian dancing bear, extremely lonely TSA agent or a sentient potato.)  This week's prompt is "the curtain parted."  Here is my take on the prompt.  I have entitled it:

Memories of Grandpa

As a kid I remember spending one summer with my Grandpa Steve in Oregon.  He loved it when I would sit at his bedside and read him stories.  Problem was he had a hearing problem which made it challenging.

“She adjusted her crown and stood ready.”

“Who’s Freddy?” 

“Then the curtain parted…”

“What?  I don’t smell anything.”

“…and the fans roared with applause.”

“Eh?  Snored with the bras?”

I suspect grandpa heard a lot better than he let on.  He just liked to bust me up and break my concentration.  Funny old guy…I want to be just like him someday.

I'm going to start thinking positive, but I know it won't work.

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A 30-Second Political Ad, A Saturday Centus

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It’s week 45 of Saturday Centus and time once again to try and string together 100 words in some semblance of order so that they make sense to a reader.  It’s a bit of a mental ball-buster, but it gets even more challenging when you have to incorporate a supplied prompt into the mix as well.  Well, then it just gets nearly impossible!    But then again I routinely do the impossible, like when I ate an entire big screen TV or the time I played golf and shot 18 consecutive holes-in-one. 

Hmmm.  I sense that you don’t believe me.   Would you believe I ate a whole pound cake shaped like a big screen TV and watched a hole-in-one video 18 times?  It’s practically the same thing.

There I go...off on my tangent.  Speaking of tangents (note cleverly disguised segue here), this wonderful Saturday Centus meme is brought to you each week by an amazing writer and just overall fabulous human being, Jenny Matlock, at her blog “off on my tangent.”
 
If you haven't already become a Centusian, what's stopping you?  It's free and nobody will think any less of you for participating.  Well, except for the French, but who cares about them anyway.  So try it!  It's addictive so it must be good for you!

You all know the drill I’m sure.  Write a story using 100 words not including the prompt using no vulgarity or pictures and without splitting the prompt.  Then link it back to Jenny’s meme post and sit back and wait for the book deals to pour in or comments from fellow Centusians, whichever. 

This week Ms. Jenny has given us the prompt “He had never been accused of being intelligent...” to use in our stories.  With so many dimwits running around, particularly in the political arena, it seemed the possibilities were endless, but alas with only 100 words I couldn’t lay some smack on all of them as I am wont to do.  Instead I thought of a different approach to get my message across.  I have entitled this week’s contribution:

A 30-Second Political Ad

“Fox News said elect Jim DeMint because they know what’s best for us here in Toombs County. 

True, he had never been accused of being intelligent, but folks ‘round these parts ain’t partial to brainiacs anyhow. 

So what if some called him crooked, racist and crazy? 

Jim’s just a good ol’ boy like us.

He will fight to the death to defend our freedom and keep God, guns and our way of life from being taken over by a bunch of whiny liberals and their Muslim leader.   

How you gonna vote agin him fer that?  

So join me in taking back America! 

DeMint for President!”

I'm not under the alkafluence of inkahol that some thinkle peep I am.

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Unlucky At Cards, A Saturday Centus

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Ahhhh, it's week 44 of Saturday Centus.  And I finally have something new to contribute.  Yay me!

(High-five!.  Myself!  No friends!)

Yes, I know Satuday was days ago and most of my Centusian brethren have long since written their stories and collected their kudos for reaching deeply into their creative minds and pulling out yet another literary gem.  Not me.  I'm late to the party again.  Academia hath struck once more and pushed my timetable forward to more of a Thursday Centus than a Saturday Centus, but that's okay.

Ms. Jenny Matlock, the fine host of this fun little meme from her blog, off on my tangent, allows us a whole week to come up with something to post here.  Even if it's really rushed and terrible and pales miserably in comparison to the others.  I don't care.  This week is my final exam so I'm guessing I'll be late again.  Oh well.  Jenny doesn't care.  She loves us all the same...even if we are ...um...slow.

Jenny's prompt this week is "Everything depended upon this single card."  Here is my 100 word attempt at trying to pull something off at the last minute.  I have entitled it:

Unlucky At Cards

With a lousy job, no money and hair falling out, I knew I needed help, so I sought answers from Madame Zarah.

A beautiful, dark-haired gypsy, I trusted her to tell me the truth.  Shuffling the tarot cards, she placed three face-down before me representing my career, my wealth and my health.

She flipped the first card over.

“The Tower…Is it a promotion?”

“No.  It portends downfall and disaster.”

She flipped again.

“The Wheel of Fortune…I’m rich?”

“No.  Misfortune awaits you.”

The last card…was I doomed?  Everything depended upon this single card.

She flipped again.

“Death.”

“Sorry, Tom.  I’ll miss you.”  

Don't use a big word where a diminutive one will suffice.

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