trifecta | OldDogNewTits

{January 20, 2013} Birds of Prey (TrifectaWriting)

Trifecta weekend writing assignment - “Choose one of the pictures below and give us a 33-word response to it.” Of the three they provided, I chose this one.

(Photo courtesy of ZeroOne / Foter.com / CC BY-SA)

* * * * * * * * * *

Birds of Prey

* * * * * * * * * *

(scanning area) “Mercedez windshield? Boooorrrring. Bronze Memorial? Soooo predictable. Black Armani? Mmmmaybe.” (sigh) “Come on, Sheldon. You can do this. Think bigger.” (jumps to feet) “Wait. Is that ….?”(sound of airplane spiraling downward)

* * * * * * * * * *

About these ads

{January 12, 2013} Stolen Shoe Giveaway AND a Trifecta writing assignment

Anyone remember the mysterious shoes that showed up on my doorstep last month? And, more importantly, anyone remember when I learned they were purchased by my dumbass credit card thief and decided to give them away here at ODNT?

Well, ladies and gentlemen …. THE SHOES HAVE SPOKEN!!

So now, in a spectacular display of womanly multitasking, I will reveal the winner of the contest while also answering Trifecta’s current writing prompt: “This weekend we’re asking for 33 words about a new beginning.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Putting the Shoe on the Other Foot

* * * * * * * * * *

In an effort to cleanse the souls (or should that be soles?) of these ill-begotten shoes and give them new purpose, I have elected to award them to my daughter’s fifth grade teacher.

* * * * * * * * * *

Here she is now. Enjoying them in all of their newly-emerged-butterfly purity.

Screw you, thief.

{December 29, 2012} Flu … for @TrifectaWriting

The Trifecta writing assignment this weekend asks for “33 of your own words that exorcise a demon. One of your own, or one from your imagination.” My response is either perfect for this prompt or I’ve descended into hallucinatory, oatmeal-for-brains madness.

I can never be sure.

* * * * * * * * * *

Flu

* * * * * * * * * *

Her body stiffens. She is simultaneously hot and cold. The blanket antagonizes her skin. Breathing is labored. Involuntary attempts at expelling the impurity only heighten the pain.

And so she reaches for it.

* * * * * * * * * * *

{December 2, 2012} His Stand Against Brussels (for Trifecta)

The Trifecta writing prompt for the weekend was pretty straightforward. Write exactly 33 words about rebellion and/or revolt. Interpret it as you will.

I found an old picture and I just had to act on it. Thanks for the inspiration, my boy.

* * * * * * * * * *

His Stand Against Brussels

* * * * * * * * * *

Once upon a time, there was a little boy. He was an excellent eater. Until the day his mother tried Brussels sprouts. “NOOO!” he slammed his tiny fist. “I NOT eat that, Mommy.”

* * * * * * * * * *

{November 25, 2012} My Favorite Things (for @TrifectaWriting)

Trifecta gave a great writing prompt for this time of year. Well, in my opinion anyway.

“In 1959, Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote the music for the Broadway production, The Sound of Music. One of the most famous songs from the musical is “My Favorite Things.” Since its inception, the song has been covered by countless artists, and we’re asking you to follow suit. Give us a few of your favorite things, in whichever form you want, in 33 words exactly.”

Easy. Feel free to sing along with me …

* * * * * * * * * *

My Favorite Things

* * * * * * * * * *

Christmas, theater, cheese, spa days and warm cookies

Family, friends, travel and writing a bookie

The love of my children and when my girl sings

These are a few of my favorite things

* * * * * * * * * *

A grainy albeit very special blast from my family’s Christmas Past.

{November 14, 2012} The Trail of Tears (This one has nothing to do with Native Americans or Billy Ray Cyrus)

Remember my friend, Trifecta? Well, he (or she … I’ve never been sure) is turning one this month and celebrating with a special writing prompt that can only be completed with a partner. Not surprisingly, I’m working with Mel at AccordingToMags.com. She wooed me actually. I was so flattered. She is the yin to my yang. The Ernie to my Bert. The Peaches to my Herb. The … whatever. She. Completes. Me.

* * * * * * * * * *

So … here’s the prompt Trifecta put up this week.

Charts and optimal dates and preferential temperatures. One line or two. As if she could summon whatever it is that makes up the human soul as easily as she could a cab on a busy New York avenue.

And … here’s Mel’s additional 33-100 words.

And just like the cabs that passed her by, ignoring the urgency in her body language, she felt herself losing hope that she would never get to where she desperately wanted to go. Maybe those missed moments were meant to steer her in another direction? She feared waiting too long and with each step forward, she began to lose sight of her original plan. Luckily, she had left a trail of tears along the way to help guide her back.

Now … enter me. I’m supposed to write 33-100 more words to link here. And we’re in SUCH a deep and earnest place. *PANIC*

Sadly though, she was completely unaware of the heat wave that would soon befall her fair city. And the same tears that COULD have carried her home now sizzled on the steaming pavement beneath her feet, disappearing into the air and creating a fog that would serve to blind her and lead her forever astray.

OFFICIALLY, my entry ends here. That’s what Mel and I agreed upon. There were originally three more sentences Mel and I elected to leave out. And I understand why Mel gently suggested they hit the cutting room floor. Still, I think anytime you can work German pork products into a story, you totally should. UNOFFICIALLY, of course. So close your eyes, Trifecta. Here’s the coda.

Plus, now she was craving something that sizzled. Like a good knockwurst. Which, ironically, probably meant that she was, in fact, finally pregnant.

Good Lord. Sometimes I exhaust myself.

{October 10, 2012} Death Takes A Holiday – Part 3 (for Trifecta)

For this week’s Trifecta challenge, I’m teaming up with two of my favorite writers to bring you a spooktacular (yes, I said spooktacular) Halloween trilogy. Our instructions are simple. Create a story between 33 and 333 words using the 3rd definition of the following word:

DEATH
1a : a permanent cessation of all vital functions : the end of life
b : an instance of dying <a disease causing many deaths>
2a : the cause or occasion of loss of life <drinking was the death of him>
b : a cause of ruin <the slander that was death to my character — Wilkie Collins>
3 capitalized : the destroyer of life represented usually as a skeleton with a scythe

And, before you read any further, I will explain that my entry represents the third and final installment of this story. Thus, I strongly encourage you to read Part 1 (penned by my friend, Mel at AccordingToMags) and Part 2 (penned by the incomparable El Guapo) before mine. Only then can my entry be best appreciated. Enjoy!

* * * * * * * * * *

Death Takes A Holiday – Part 3

* * * * * * * * * *

Death and George crowded into the restaurant while Nausea headed over to the bar. “I can do some real damage in there. They’re running a tequila special,” he called out, running ahead of the other two.

“Dimwitted dilettante,” Death condescended under his noxious breath. George laughed, remembering a time when his old friend had that same insatiable glimmer in his apocalyptic eye. ”Why are you smiling, George?” Death asked, as the hostess escorted them to their usual booth. “Are you amused by his enthusiasm … or have I unintentionally entertained you in some way?”

“Don’t you remember?” George began. “There were none more eager than you. But now … CPR, defibrillators, the Heimlich Maneuver. Why have you allowed these measures to interrupt your delicate work?” George was just getting started when the waitress interrupted him. ”Good evening, gentlemen. Will anyone else be joining you?” Nausea was now bellying up to his third victim since they’d arrived. “No. Just the two of us,” answered Death, matter of-factly. “And we’d like to start with a couple of glasses of Richebourg Grand Cru.”

“Yes, of course, sir. Are we celebrating anything special?” she asked. ”Yes,” answered Death. “My friend and I are celebrating my first holiday. A day off for Death. Do you know there’s no way you can die right now, young lady?”

“I beg your pardon?” she stammered.

“I said that you cannot die today.” Death explained. “There is nothing you or anyone else can do to make that happen. Do you understand?”

Mouth agape, she managed, “I’ll be right back with your drinks,” then turned too quickly directly into a busboy and the business end of the steak knife he was carrying.

Death rolled his eyes. He placed his hand on her bleeding abdomen. “I said nothing,” he reiterated, clearly vexed at the need to prove himself. He removed his hand from her now unscathed stomach and returned to his seat.

“Wow,” said George. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

* * * * * * * * * *

{September 29, 2012} If At First You Don’t Succeed – Part II (for Trifecta)

Trifecta Writing Prompt for the Weekend

Take one of your former 33 word entries and build upon it with another 33 words.

I haven’t taken on Trifecta in a while but this weekend’s prompt spoke to me. It said …“Get off your fat ass and join the party, slack jaw. People are going to forget you even EXIST if you don’t get back into the game again. Seriously, freak show, put down that apple-sized ball of cheese and get out of bed.”

I know! That’s what I thought, too. This weekend’s prompt is a total jerk.

Still, it got me thinking. And the gears in my tired brain started turning. Rustily, yes. There was even a little smoke for a few minutes there. Then, it finally spat out the following idea: If At First You Don’t Succeed. I wrote it in July 2012 for the Trifecta prompt that asked us to “Give the first 33 words of your book.” Here’s how it went:

He woke to the smell of a hot breakfast. Opening his eyes, he saw the walls of his childhood bedroom. The Gong Show desk calendar said 1977. He was 8. “Not again,” thought Henry Beckett, 43.

It seemed like the perfect story to continue for this weekend’s prompt. And so I did.

He leapt down from the top bunk, panic-stricken. The deposition, his anniversary dinner, his son’s championship game … he’d miss all of them again if he didn’t think fast. “Henry … breakfast!” called his mother.

Actually, the title is ironic when you consider the fact that I’m taking a second shot at writing the same story. Thanks, Trifecta. You’re helping me finally get moving with this writing thing. I’ve got 66 words under my belt now. And the average novel length is only about 80,000 words. (laughs like a buffoon) Shoot. I should be done by Tuesday.

{September 9, 2012} She Traded her Meal for a Window (for Trifecta)

Says Trifecta - “For this weekend’s challenge, we’d like you to read the 33 words below and then add 33 of your own words to move the story along.”

Says Me – So that you can read it fluidly, I’m not separating the 66 words. Just know that the first 33 (in italics) are theirs and the last 33 are mine.

The last strains of sunlight lingered in the corners, grasping every available point of refraction. She slid her fingertips along the glass wondering if this was all there ever was. Or could be.

And, as she watched her final sunset, she heard the guard slide the door open. “They’re ready for you,” he said. And she stood, to begin her walk down the hall of retribution.

{September 2, 2012} Today, I am thankful for … well, you’ll just have to read it (Trifecta)

Today’s post is simple. It’s for Trifecta. Their instructions this weekend are perfect for me.

This weekend we’re going to keep it short. Ridiculously short. The shortest it has ever been and probably will ever be. Robert Frost once said, “In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.” We want you to do the same. Sum up anything you want, but do it in three words. Your response should mirror Frost’s quote by beginning, “In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about–.” And the last four words are yours to choose.

My kids and I are moving back home from our hurricane evacuation today … “Dave-lessly.” And before you want to kill him for leaving during a hurricane, know that it was for work and it was completely unavoidable. He was destroyed about leaving. Truly, I was a little nervous, too. And I think my boy, Dean (now nearly 13), must have sensed it all … because he has been AMAZING in his dad’s absence. As in brings-tears-to-my-eyes amazing.

And here I was thinking he was just a punky kid.

He has helped my parents clean up their hurricane-ravaged yard (a Herculean task, I might add), helped my neighbor with her kids during the power outage and helped me on countless occasions before, during and since the storm. WITHOUT ME EVEN HAVING TO ASK!

So when I read the Trifecta prompt this weekend, I knew my subject immediately.

* * * * * * * * * *

In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about Dean — Becoming a Man.

* * * * * * * * * *

I love that kid. The one who made me a mom.

Trifecta weekend writing assignment - “Choose one of the pictures below and give us a 33-word response to it.” Of the three they provided, I chose this one.

* * * * * * * * * *

Birds of Prey

* * * * * * * * * *

* * * * * * * * * *

Well, ladies and gentlemen …. THE SHOES HAVE SPOKEN!!

* * * * * * * * * *

Putting the Shoe on the Other Foot

* * * * * * * * * *

In an effort to cleanse the souls (or should that be soles?) of these ill-begotten shoes and give them new purpose, I have elected to award them to my daughter’s fifth grade teacher.

* * * * * * * * * *

Here she is now. Enjoying them in all of their newly-emerged-butterfly purity.

Screw you, thief.

* * * * * * * * * *

Flu

* * * * * * * * * *

Her body stiffens. She is simultaneously hot and cold. The blanket antagonizes her skin. Breathing is labored. Involuntary attempts at expelling the impurity only heighten the pain.

And so she reaches for it.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The Trifecta writing prompt for the weekend was pretty straightforward. Write exactly 33 words about rebellion and/or revolt. Interpret it as you will.

I found an old picture and I just had to act on it. Thanks for the inspiration, my boy.

* * * * * * * * * *

His Stand Against Brussels

* * * * * * * * * *

Once upon a time, there was a little boy. He was an excellent eater. Until the day his mother tried Brussels sprouts. “NOOO!” he slammed his tiny fist. “I NOT eat that, Mommy.”

* * * * * * * * * *

* * * * * * * * * *

My Favorite Things

* * * * * * * * * *

Christmas, theater, cheese, spa days and warm cookies

Family, friends, travel and writing a bookie

The love of my children and when my girl sings

These are a few of my favorite things

* * * * * * * * * *

A grainy albeit very special blast from my family’s Christmas Past.

* * * * * * * * * *

* * * * * * * * * *

Death Takes A Holiday – Part 3

* * * * * * * * * *

* * * * * * * * * *

Trifecta Writing Prompt for the Weekend

Take one of your former 33 word entries and build upon it with another 33 words.

* * * * * * * * * *

In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about Dean — Becoming a Man.

* * * * * * * * * *

I love that kid. The one who made me a mom.

About Me

My Mom Says You’re Laughing WITH Me

Click if you like ODNT!

SUBSCRIBE BY EMAIL

Love Dogs? Coffee? Reading? Me? Please support these guys!

Spread the dumbassery! Grab my button.

KETCHUP WITH US – Hosted by Mel & Me on the 1st & 15th of Every Month

Archived Dumbassery

Type in a word to see if I dumbassed about it

Twitter

Facebook

Readers & Rubberneckers

Dumbassery Recognition

Friends You Should Stalk

Blogroll

The Most Popular Posts (I could never sit at their cafeteria table)

Follow “OldDogNewTits”

*** * * * * * * * * ***

**In an effort to cleanse the souls (or should that be soles?) of these ill-begotten shoes and give them new purpose, I have elected to award them to my daughter’s fifth grade teacher.**

*** * * * * * * * * ***