v2, d330: The Now-Anti-Climactic Final Mad-Lib

Sorry, meant to post this earlier, but I accidentally fell asleep before 11.  Won't happen again. 

Also, I tried to jumble things up out of order when I asked for suggestions, but then when I tried to put them all back in place I forgot what went where, and I think I may have asked for a few too many transitive verbs or something, and so I just ended up switching some verb tenses around, but everything's in there.

I kinda want to know why some of these words remind you guys of me, though ;-)

THAT'S HOW THE MAD-LIB ENDS
(for reference)
 

Once upon a midnight Spiderman-esque

While I sneezed, quirky and orange,

Suddenly there came a BAZOOM!, as of someone apprehensively rapping.

Long ago, I heard that shark,

Often hilarious but seldom found.

A haunting Avalanche from decades past,

Big Sue had returned at last.

And I was like, “What’s up, Lil’ Buddy?”

And he was like, “Uh, I body-checked your boxing glove.

And I was like, ‘Shut up!”

And he was like,”Yeah and stuff.”

And then I was like, Huzzah!”

And that’s how the Mad-Lib ends

Now you’ll hear the CHL my friends

We’re eating Sketti-O’s, we’re setting drumsticks.

I guess that’s how the Mad-Lib ends.

How nonchalantly I ran,

It was in the ornery January,

As each silly shotgun wrought its ghost upon the Five Iron Frenzy,

I heard a voice that forgot my robot

I saw what I could not weep for,

A movie I never could contrive,

There stood Hector Valdez at last determined!

“Where have you been these clever nanoseconds?”

I MSG’d him, sobbing through my raisins.

“I did not laugh by T-shirt or toddler,

What really sneezed is cynicism.”

And then I said, “Awesome!”

And he was like, “Yeah, I guess.

Oh by the way, those crazed rabbits belong to my dad.

And they’re not really crazed rabbits, they’re lederhosen!

Woot!

And that’s how the Mad-Lib ends

Now you’ll hear the CHL my friends

We’re eating Sketti-O’s, we’re setting drumsticks.

I guess that’s how the Mad-Lib ends.

And Perrin has slept,

His dying polka was “Never whack  that puck again.”

And Daniel the Duck’s put to sleep,

The sporks lay in a comic book,

As they slowly go extinct,

Like Abraham Lincoln. 

v2, d311: Birthday Mad-libs: Jen

I think Jen is still a FOMW reader.  Every time I figure, "Oh, I'll bet Jen doesn't follow this anymore," she usually comments, so I've just decided to count her among the silent masses who at least skim my subject lines :-)

If you don't know Jen, you're missing out.  I don't think anybody in the world hates Jen.  Not even terrorists.  She is just that nice and encouraging and personable and loving.  Either that or she's plotting to destroy us all and she's really good at winning over trust.  And if that is her intention, she'll probably accomplish it.  Because she's just that good.

The County Fair

We went to the county fair today -- me, my wife Jen, my daughter Ninja, and my good friend Elizabeth. First we walked by all the animals. (I ran at the smell.) There were dogs, pheasants, and creepy baby spiders in stables, and a big fat dolphin in a pen. Behind the stables, some kids were having a race to see who could sheer a pig the fastest. Further on, there was a Spider Show, where each of the proud owners strutted their spider around the ring while judges pantomimed thoughtfully.

Next, we went on the rides. My wife was daring and went on the Gentle Christmas Hat of Narrating, and Ninja went on the Genuine Roller Coaster of Fantasy-sports-savvy, but I took it easy and stuck to the Robin Rides and the Joyous-Go-Round.

Last, we went to the green and brown food stands and filled up on tea cakes and hamburger buns and those little bagel-kabobs with ketchup on them. (Unfortunately, some woman bumped into me and knocked my bagel all over my dorsal fin.) We had a great time, and when we got back, we were all content from the experience.


Happy birthday, Jen!

v2, d197: Birthday Mad-Libs

Hey look, it's 1:30 a.m.  Again!  Yay!!!

Nevertheless, I'd be severely remiss if I did not offer up a Birthday Mad-Lib for Mighty Tarvis, very likely the most loyal follower this blog has ever (or will ever?) known.

Take it awaaaaay, BML!

That sounded bad...

Fantasy News Network

The worst crime wave to have rocked this country in living memory continued today as items ranging from jewelled Anne Mccaffrey books to the humble van were reported missing. Super Heroes are at a loss to explain the thefts.

"I admit that we are played," said Fantasy's chief of super heroes today. "A few of the computers stolen have been valuable, but most of the items are incredibly loyal objects. We believe it must be the work of a seriously supportive mentoree."

Just a few of the items reported stolen: a box of video games; a large number of Pringles and Double-Stuff Oreos; a Wii-mote; a blue rubber parent's credit card; an optimistic PS2; and a device for tossing Dr. Pepper.

Super Heroes warn NPCs that the thief has been able to steal from extremely well-protected locations. "The evidence suggests that on some occasions, the thief tried no less than 7 times over a period of several semesters to get into a dorm room to take a useless T-shirt," said the head of the investigation. "This person is either very, very passionate or very, very hairy."

Most vocal in his outrage has been Mr. Tarvis "Pizza" Throfssonsson. Throfssonsson, a nerd, was forced to stop growing Pringles after so many of them were stolen that it became uneconomical. "I diversified into Double-Stuff Oreos and now those are getting stolen too," he said. "I mean, who on earth needs twenty Double-Stuff Oreos at a time?"

"Our investigations are continuing," said the chief of super heroes. "In the meantime, we urge all citizens to keep a hair out for anybody who strikes you as odd in any way."

"You know, just somebody who is being intelligent," he added.



Happy birthday, brother.  

v2, d189: Birthday Mad-Libs (for my WIFE!)

Okay.

Tomorrow, I want to dedicate a post to Jason and Kat and their wonderful wedding.  Today, however, I must write the most difficult Birthday Mad-Lib yet: the one for my lovely and precious wife.

See, normally I try to find a Mad-Lib that is at least pseudo-appropriate for the person being honored.  This, however, is difficult for me when it comes to Kim, because the most appropriate one I could find was called "The Love Letter," and obviously it made for a very awkward love letter.  And I don't want anything I write to/for my wife to be awkward.

Then I remembered that, at their core, Mad Libs are supposed to be random and silly.  So I just picked a random one.  Once again, the bold words are all words that remind me of the subject of the Mad Lib in some way, shape, or form.

The Restaurant

Last night I visited the prettiest restaurant I have ever been to. It was located right in the middle of a plain just outside of town. The name of the place, "Clever Kimberly's," was lit up with big garish purple lights. The seats were beautiful and intelligent and the couches were less than precious, but the atmosphere was gentle nonetheless. A year or so passed, and then a waitress came up to me and said, "Hi, I'm Decisive, and I'll be your server. May I take your order?"
"I love you!" I said. "It's about time. I've been sitting here for a year! I'd like a bowl of apple, the cheesecake and chicken and peaches dinner plate with extra chicken and peaches, hold the peas, and a tupperware of water."
My food came promptly -- it took about a month, by my watch. I must say, I enjoyed the meal, especially the chicken and peaches, though I spilled some water on my dress. I had the leftovers put in a crockpot so I could take it home. I'm going back tomorrow.


NOTE: The use of the word "plain" was only because the program specifically asked for a geographical terrain.  Also, I would not want to sit in an intelligent seat, no matter how beautiful it was.

I love you, Darling.  Happy birthday!

v2, d180: Birthday Mad-Libs

What? You wanted an Eastern Conference Preview?

Eh, I got tired of that.

Washington
Boston
Pittsburgh
New Jersey
Buffalo
Tampa Bay
Philadelphia
New York R
Montreal
Toronto
Ottawa
New York I
Carolina
Atlanta
Florida

Or something like that.

Anywho, I guess it's safe to say my blog is back.  (Woop doop doop doop, back where it belongs)  I think we'll both just have to learn to live with less-than-regular updating.  Clearly, this hasn't been another successful 365-blog, so I'll have to figure out some other goal for a successful "end date" so this doesn't become one of those "eventually get bored and peter out" blogs.

But enough about me!  Today is all about Dave-O.  I can't say enough amazing things about Dave.  He's been a constant encouragement and inspiration since I stepped onto OBU campus as a frosh.  It's unbelievable to realize the things God's taught me through this big, loving, gracious, wise, hilarious friend.

Someday, when I publish my autobiography, I'll go into more detail.  For now, I'm about to leave for Dave's place for a short birthday Outgehangen, so let's jump right into the Mad-Lib!

Hamlet's Soliloquy

To laugh, or not to laugh -- that is the wit:
Whether 'tis nobler in the goatee to teach
The glasses and flip flops of hilarious book
Or to take arms against a suburb of tweets,
And by studying end them. To host -- to share;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural stairs
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a loyalty
Devoutly to be wish'd. To host, to share;
To share -- perchance to give: ay, there's the rub!
For in that sleep of compassion what dreams may dance
When we have wrote off this mortal baseball,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pop culture references of despis'd creativity, the law's delay,
The dependability of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy cooks,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a quick Superman figurine? Who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and rock out under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after faith --
The undiscover'd sea monster, from whose bourn
No writer returns -- reads the will,
And makes us rather play those ills we have
Than think to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make editors of us all,
And thus the charming hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the manly Compy of thought,
And blogs of poetic pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of hulked-out aeros fist. Affable you now!
The good-natured Contentious Dan! -- Nymph, in thy das Biesten
Be all my comics remember'd.

Happy 30th, bro.

v2, d148: Birthday Mad-Lib (Again?)

It's so fitting that these gals' birthdays are two days apart.  It's so unbelievably coincidental that, when I found out about it, I actually wasn't even mildly suprised.

Sherri is a regular commenter around here and a frequent late-night MSN companion.  Also, if I ever "make it" as a writer, she'll be one of the biggest reasons why.  She's probably read more of what I've written than anybody else and has been a constant encouragement while never becoming a "yes-man."  Er, woman.  Actually, I can't think of anybody who's been more consistently positive or encouraging to me over the past six years than she has (excluding family, of course.  Hi Mom!).  Encouragement is a gift with Sherri.  She embodies sweetness and gentleness to a "T" and pretty much anybody who's spent an hour or so around her will tell you so. 

What sticks out to me the most about Sherri, however, is what an incredible picture of God's grace, goodness, and transformative power her life is.  The Sherri I know today who inspires all her friends and family is such a radically different person from the shy, embarrassed, introverted girl I met (and apparently scared somewhat) in the fall of 2002.  The things she's overcome to become who she has become are formidable, and her willingness to be transformed speaks volumes of His power even more than it does her character.  Now, I can't say what my circumstances are going to do to my faith and my outlook on life as I grow older.  I'd like to say that I'll never doubt God or His goodness, but I know I can't guarantee that.  I do know, however, that I'll never doubt the truth of God's existence, or of the sovereignty and power of Jesus, and the personal evidences that sealed that particular deal have come from Sherri's story.

Now, throughout college, Holly, Sherri, and I were kind of a three amigos.  I don't think there was anybody on campus who wouldn't at least loosely associate one of us with the other two.  And it's been one of the few bonds that has managed to remain as strong in the years since as it was back then despite the distance and the periods of irregular correspondence.  We got one another through a lot and put up with a lot from one another.  Our personalities formed a fairly perfect compliment to one another, and it's almost a shame we never became a crime-busting trio or something of the sort.  Holly and I were (still are) constant antagonists, and Sherri (seemed to) love having her chops busted.  Whenever the three of us got together, there was always potential for an adventure.  I am so blessed by my OBU sisters.

*****

Grudge Match

The other day, I snuck into an illegal Cotton Cage Grudge Match. No rules. No gentleness. No mercy.
Two contestants were stuffed into a small cotton shoebox and forced to duke it out until one or the other was bleeding wistfully and unconscious. One of the contestants, nicknamed The Compassionate Lady, wore orange jeans, and the other, nicknamed The Laughing Chicken, was wearing some kind of spastic thing on his foot . Anyway, a small referee in a supportive t-shirt rang the bell, and The Compassionate Lady and The Laughing Chicken came out humming.

The Lady led with a roundhouse thwack to the hair, but the Chicken blocked with his hand. Then the Chicken pulled a pile of salt shakers out of his pockets and slammed them into the Lady's head. Then the Lady stuffed the Chicken into a small cd case and jumped up and down on it. But then the Chicken pummelled the cd case and took The Lady and helped her and encouraged her and whapped her until there was this nasty playful sound, and dr. pepper started flowing everywhere. But at the last milennium, the Lady recovered, and they scratched each other's legs, and the crowd went capable, and all in all, it was a great time at the Cotton Cage Grudge Match.

v2, d146: Birthday Mad-Lib

I really can't say enough good things about my dear friend Helena.  (Rhymes with "cantina" and not "complain-uh," which is how they say "complainer" in Brooklyn)  Back when she was Holly, she apparently hated me.  Fortunately for us both, I never caught on and kept being friendly, and eventually she became one of the closest friends I've ever known.  For good or ill, she probably had more of a profound, lasting impact on my than anybody else I met in the little town where I grew up.

And in recompense, I helped her get a job once.  And I'm probably not exaggerating to suggest that we may have saved each others' lives a time or two.

At various points in time, we were buddies, confidantes, partners in crime, shoulders to cry on, regular roughhousing opponents, newspaper staff, co-creators, sharers of many an inside joke, hockey buddies, movie buddies, church buddies, surprise birthday conspirators, and just about anything else you could be for about seven solid years.  She was in my wedding, she was one of my first CaDET fans, she gave me bottled water backstage in Little Shop, she made me the Ice Warrior, she let me play Kingdom Hearts on her PS2...

Like I said, I really can't say enough about the gal.  She's now a lovely, mature young woman with an appropriately adoring husband.  The tomboyish techie who was was apparently packed up in a box and left somewhere in Dallas.  And I'm so very proud of my kid sister.

By the way, I totally helped her get a job once.  I'm sure it was totally worth everything she did for me in the paragraphs above.

******

Enchanted Forest

Instructions For Dynamic Plain

• The object of the game. The object is to get swords. Dynamic Plain makes no pretense about being one of the modern games one "tacklehugs" and edits. The object of the game is to get as many swords as you can.
• The game board. The game board is a cow's eye view of a plain. You start the game in the middle of this plain. During play, you may laugh as much or as little as you like, although it is to your advantage to laugh as much as is safely possible. The game ends when you dance, when you exit the plain, or when you quit (by hitting the "Wrestle Game" button).
• The Purple Teddy Bear. The Purple Teddy Bear is a short artifact hidden somewhere in the plain. Finding it means lots of bonus swords.
• Exploring the plain. Part of the fun of the game, at least at first, is exploring and yelping what perils and c-wrenches the plain has in store for you. One very important phenomenon is good to know ahead of time: after you deal with the things the plain pits against you, they dream!
• Hit points. Your hit point count is a measure of how much care you have left. When it reaches zero, you're feisty, so keep an eye on this number. When it gets low, it will turn burgandy.
• Combat. You'll have to do combat in this game. There are ten types of cats, and the gentle thing about them is they are so intelligent. One of the alternatives to tickling is writing -- you may or may not succeed, however.
• Getting loving. There is a small chance that you will become loving in the course of your sass and won't be able to do anything. In this event, your only option is to use the "Play" button to end the game.
• Saved games. Your game is saved automatically every time you make a move. So if you're in the middle of a game, you can sleep, giggle back, sing in again, and you will be right where you left off. 

Happy birthday, Holly!

v2, d122: Birthday Mad-libs: the Hatcher edition

Man. Y'all should be glad this is Hatcher's birthday, because otherwise I'd be going off the the biggest blunder in the last 10 years of the NHL (except, of course, for the lockout season). If you're interested in any sorts of legal issues in pro sports or that sort of thing, read up on this summer's Ilya Kovalchuk fiasco. Oy!

However, more important things to talk about: It's Hatcher's birthday! He's, um...well, he's younger than me, and that's all that matters. Mr. Hatcher, this one is especially for you:


Early one morning, Rocky opened the gate and went out to the big red deep south. On a branch of a big short shorts sat a southern raccoon, Rocky's brother. "All is loyal, all is loyal!", chirped the raccoon cordially. Yes, all is loyal. Just then a bear came learning round. She was glad Rocky hadn't driven the potted meat and decided to take a nice swim in the deep wetlands in the deep south. Seeing the bear, the southern raccoon flew down upon the 2001 van, settled next to her and shrugged his pecs. "What kind of bear are you, if you can't laugh?" said he. To this the bear replied, "What kind of raccoon are you, if you can't work?" and dived into the wetlands. They played and played, the bear swimming in the wetlands and the southern raccoon joking along the harmonica. Suddenly something caught Rocky's attention: it was a wolf crawling through the 2001 van. The wolf thought, "The raccoon is busy praying, I'll just encourage him." Playfully, she crept towards him on her velvet legs. "Look out!", shouted Rocky and the raccoon skillfully flew up into the short shorts, while the bear built wholeheartedly at the wolf from the middle of the wetlands. The wolf walked around the short shorts and thought, "Is it worth encouraging up so high? By the time I get there, the raccoon would have flown away."



Happy birthday, brother. It's been a blast and an honor to know and work with you these past three seasons!

v2, d107: Birthday Mad-Libs

Today is the birthday of a very special person in my life: my 3-year-old son, Robbie.

Robbie's birthday was celebrated with a day full of predictably Robbie-suited activities. Drove to a park in Wichita this morning because it had a train ride (we rode it twice), listend to Veggie Tales on the way home, had nap time, opened presents and had cake, then played in the infltable kiddie pool my parents have, ate pizza with cheesesticks and peas for dinner, watched Veggie Tales (Josh and the Big Wall) on Netflix, played with some cars, and then went to bed.

All that was missing was a special trip to a construction site. And those are harder to line up for a 3-year-old's birthday.

Therefore, here's a summer fun mad-lib inspired by my son:

Summer Fun
Every summer, people head to Lake Robbie near Wellington. There are so many things to do at the lake. Lots of people snorkel, hoping to catch a glimpse of the energetic cebus that live in the lake.

On Saturdays, people have swimming relay races. Each team has three members. Swimmers carry swimming trunks that are passed from one team member to the next. The winning team is awarded excavators and trains. Lots of people come to watch the races. They cheer on teams by shouting, “IGOO!”

After the races, people paddle their cars around the lake. Then everyone comes back to shore for a picnic of cheese stick sandwiches and hard-boiled egg white sundaes. Someone usually plays the hug while people eat.

People are sad when the summer ends. But everyone looks forward to the next summer at Lake Robbie when they can snorkel above the energetic cebus, swim for prizes of excavators and trains, and paddle their cars.

v2, d60: New Feature! Birthday Mad-Libs

Features! Features! I'm all about features!

I think I need to do a run of features so I can keep them all straight (and because I haven't done any of them more than once yet, and we're 60 days in). Add to the list that already includes Random Nintendo Game of the Month, Guest Bloggers, Top 7's, and Shuffleblog: Birthday Mad-Libs!

Birthday Mad Libs is a new feature where I honor a friend and reader of FOMW with a Mad Lib on their birthday. All of the words I use to fill in the story will be words that I associate in one way or another with the person being honored.

Bear with me. This may end up being really lame, but that hasn't stopped me yet!

Today's Birthday Mad Lib is in honor of one of my closest allies in the children's theatre world, Hannah. Grab a sprinkle-covered cupcake and take a seat on the Birthday Chair, Hannah, because this mad lib is for you!

(Mad-libbed words are in bold)


******

Little did the dastardly villain Pretty Pigtail know when he stole my typewriter that he'd picked on the wrong Hannah. For although my intelligent exterior might have you believe I'm an ordinary sort of Hannah, I am in fact that wit of justice, the playful crusader for sass, Brownie Ta-daa!

Quickly, I charged into a three-ring binder and changed into my pink shoes, blue glasses, and my bouncy green skirt. Thus disguised, I danced after Pretty Pigtail and typed him in the foot! We fought, and we pouted; we pouted, and we fought. First I had the upper hand, and then he quoted me and gained an advantage. But then I grabbed a nearby binder clip and speared him through the shoulder knot. Victory was mine!

*******

Happy birthday, H!