P R O D U C T I O N S
 
 FAQ 
 Search 
 Memberlist 
 Usergroups 
 Register 
 Profile 
 Log in to check your private messages 
 Log in 

Writers and stories
Goto page 1, 2, 3, 4  Next
 
Post new topic   Reply to topic    Nuclear War Now! Productions Forum Index -> Main
View previous topic :: View next topic  
Author Message
N.



Joined: 05 Jun 2011
Posts: 1196

PostPosted: Thu Jan 05, 2012 2:10 pm    Post subject: Writers and stories Reply with quote

Are any of you here writers? I'm a writer of short stories and I just thought I'd share this piece of mine. I was written out of frustration with humans endlessly griping, moaning and complaining how the "world" never goes their way:

It’s A Good Life

Lester Bernard arose from a peaceful slumber at six a.m. Or rather he raised his body slightly after a night of insomnia. At the age of thirty five he was doing just great, there was not a single thing to complain about. His hairline had receded to the back of his head, his moustache was turning gray, his hemorrhoids were flaring up like a stick of dynamite, causing him to take three hour shits and bleed from his asshole. His ringworms and lice on his head were rather pleasant.
His wife Marie came into his room, holding a cup of steaming cup of coffee. She was in her early thirties, with dirt and grease stained, black hair, cum stained, food stained, tattered skirt, and one breast had popped out of her oversized bra. Said tit had a patch of hair around the nipple.
“Well well,” said Marie with delight, “how was your insomnia? Good as usual? If only I could stay up all night, thinking about all the wonderful things in life that continue to please us. I especially would like to brood all night about this great patch of hair around my nipple. It came out of nowhere, but isn’t it just so nice to look at? Anyway, here’s your coffee!”
Marie threw the cup of hot coffee in Lester’s yellow toothed smiling face.
Lester lurched up in bed, giggling, rubbing his dripping face and licking the coffee off his fingers.
“Oh baby,” he said, “you know just how I like to start my mornings! A man needs a bit of encouragement like that, but please make the coffee hotter next time! Bring it to a boil! Speaking of boils, last night I discovered a big pus bubble on my cock as I was taking a leak. So I took a pin and burst it and drank up the pus, it had a taste I really enjoyed. And you have that hair around your nipple, things are looking up for us, wouldn’t you say?”
“Absolutely, and it’s came to my attention that our daughter is failing in school, desecrating the school books with profanities and dirty pictures, wiping her buggers under her desk, slapping other children, pissing all over the toilet seats, and even sexually harassing boys. When I heard this news I almost died from joy, I couldn’t stop smiling the whole day!”
Their daughter, Tina, was six years old and a promising girl. Lester and Marie had been slightly less happy that Tina had been getting a lot of A’s in school, they told Tina that it stood for “Asshole”.
“Well,” said Lester, “looks like I need to get my day rolling. Thanks for the coffee, baby. And when I get home from work, I’ll have this nice coffee to clean up from my bed sheets, or maybe I’ll leave it there, I think the stains will be nice to look at.”
Just then a baseball came crashing through Lester’s window, spraying glass everywhere onto the floor, his table, all over his important papers. The ball hit Marie in the head.
“Give me back my ball, now!”
It was the voice of a little boy, their neighbor.
“I’ll be pleased to do so!” hollered Lester.
“My head feels clearer now, my thinking seems enhanced,” said Marie.
“Hurry up in there!” cried the boy. His name was Johnny, eleven years old, and like clockwork, he threw a hardball through Lester’s window every Saturday. Lester had had a talk with Johnny’s father, Bruce Bloodstone, and they had made an arrangement. Every Saturday, in the early morning, Johnny would throw a baseball through Lester’s window, because Lester and Marie found endless satisfaction in buying new windows, and they enjoyed cleaning up things, anything.
Lester found the ball on the floor amidst a pile of tiny glass fragments, picked it up. He put his arm through the big hole in the glass window, and accidentally sliced open his forearm. The ball was violently snatched from his hand by Johnny.
Somewhere in the distance they heard Johnny yell, “Dad! Give me that five dollars now! I just got my ball back from that shabby slob, Lester!
Lester chuckled.
“Hehehe, I always like a good compliment. And I like how this blood is flowing down my arm. Now I’m gonna put on my moth infested ‘business’ suit and head out to work. Oh…but I just remembered that my tire blew out on the way home from work yesterday. Remember, Marie? How I came home in such a good mood, because I needed to use a payphone to call for help, but at work Joshua had stolen all my change from my pocket? He’s a good pickpocket, one of the best I know. Hopefully I can learn his art. Anyway, remember how I told you that I had to hitchhike home? And people just gave me nasty glances? One woman even flipped me off, remember? That woman was beautiful and she had a nice middle finger, it even had a diamond ring on it, and that reminded me that I’d been meaning to get you a diamond ring myself, to celebrate these wonderful eleven years we’ve been together. We’ve had some really memorable times together. Remember when we first moved here and had a turkey dinner? The turkey you made was totally dried out and tough, and I thought it was excellent, even if it was hard to eat. And while we all dined, a big crack appeared in the ceiling, right above us and the dinner table. After about five seconds an extremely rotten corpse fell halfway through, upside down, it’s leg caught in something, and maggots sprayed all over us and our dinner, remember? I saw those maggots as delicious sprinkles to our great dinner, and I ate them up with gusto, remember? But uh, yeah, I did try to get you a diamond ring yesterday, after ten miles of walking in this great heat we’ve been having, what was the temperature yesterday, 102 degrees? It’s good and healthy to sweat profusely. So I finally got to the jewelry store, but right when I got there the guy inside flipped over the sign from open to closed, right in my face! I was so happy about that, because it meant I’d have the pleasure of walking to another jewelry store, about sixteen blocks down the street. So I made the long trek, taking an easy, leisurely stride as people honked their horns at me and flipped me off because - I forgot to mention this - I had attempted to get on a bus…I was standing by the curb and it seems there was a lot of sewage runoff in the gutter for some reason or other, and when the bus came the tires skidded through the sewage, which splattered all over my moth infested ‘business’ suit. I thought this was an excellent new decoration, and now maybe the moths (my friends!) might be happy about the sewage. But they weren’t, they jumped out of my suit and started flying in circles around my head. And I attempted to get on the bus like this, but for some inexplicable reason the bus driver told me I was in no condition to ride on a public bus, and I just didn’t understand this, I thought my appearance would be pleasing to others. Anyway, as I was saying, I went to another jewelry store. There was an extremely long line to the counter in the place, and the line even went outside and into the parking lot. I was standing at the end, in the middle of the street, and I was blocking traffic. People scowled at me and honked their horns. One old lady with a black veil over her face even tried to run me over, but I jumped on the hood of her car and told her I think her veil is attractive. But this didn’t please her for some reason I can’t explain. So after about two hours of standing in line, I got to the counter and display case, and pointed at a decent looking diamond ring. The moths started flying all over the place in the store, and my sewage smell didn’t make people happy for some reason I know not. So I pulled out my wallet and went through it, looking for my credit cards. I found one and gave it to the man. He put it through the machine and said there was nothing on it. So I tried another credit card, and the same thing! This made me happy, as it reminded me that we’re now bankrupt from buying so many new windows, and this will incite us to work even harder! This is the push we’ve been needing, my dear! Now I can hitchhike to a second job! This will be good exercise and improve my health!”
Somewhere in the distance Johnny yelled:
“That bozo is jabbering on and on! I can hear him from the hole in his window!”
Lester and Marie laughed heartily and started tearing each others clothes off and fucking like beasts of the wild.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message MSN Messenger
N.



Joined: 05 Jun 2011
Posts: 1196

PostPosted: Thu Jan 05, 2012 2:43 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Okay, I guess I took a risk with this post, but I hope someone likes my story!
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message MSN Messenger
Hellstrike



Joined: 12 Dec 2010
Posts: 1404
Location: Lower Saxony,Germany

PostPosted: Fri Jan 06, 2012 10:19 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

It's pretty good to read. Came the story "out of nothing" or is there a deeper meaning behind that you want to spread?
I also wrote some short stories but that's some time ago and about other themes.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
TeethofSkull



Joined: 02 Aug 2007
Posts: 721

PostPosted: Fri Jan 06, 2012 11:10 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

needs a little proofin

"holding a cup of steaming cup of coffee"

plenty grody. reads like Eyehategod and Henry Miller set in Buffalo er serntin
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message Visit poster's website
N.



Joined: 05 Jun 2011
Posts: 1196

PostPosted: Fri Jan 06, 2012 11:47 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hellstrike wrote:
It's pretty good to read. Came the story "out of nothing" or is there a deeper meaning behind that you want to spread?
I also wrote some short stories but that's some time ago and about other themes.


Well as I said in my first post, it's me being tired of people who complain about everything. So I was wondering if there could possibly exist people who enjoy everything. Has someone ever said, "Everything is good, nothing is ever bad."? Well that would be interesting for sure. Also I hope that maybe a person who has been having a run of bad luck, could read my story and feel better about theirself. Perhaps the story could be seen as kind of Nietzschean, saying Yes to life in the face of disaster and misfortune. Seeing the positive sides of everything....the thing about a misfortune is that it often takes awhile later to realize that there was something good about it, something to be learned from.

If any of you write anything, stories, essays, poems, please post them. But maybe there's the fear of someone stealing your work? Honestly I've never been published and for now I simply write stories and enjoy that a few of my friends appreciate them.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message MSN Messenger
probert



Joined: 15 Jul 2009
Posts: 7070
Location: stankonia

PostPosted: Fri Jan 06, 2012 6:33 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

sounds like you read bukowski for the first time and thought "i can do that". which is great, but it didnt work.
_________________
format your doormat
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message Visit poster's website
Blutkvlt



Joined: 25 Feb 2010
Posts: 6414
Location: latino wizards guild

PostPosted: Fri Jan 06, 2012 9:02 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

This read like something that would be posted on a GWAR forum. Doesn't seem to have much more purpose than to shock, and the writing itself is immature. Also could benefit from some proofreading.
_________________
under a funeral shroom wrote:
I wish, I think Chris Barnes would be much more likely to be a guest on that Guy Fieri show.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
jaybe729



Joined: 05 Jan 2011
Posts: 194
Location: Dine' tah

PostPosted: Fri Jan 06, 2012 9:38 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

probert wrote:
sounds like you read bukowski for the first time and thought "i can do that". which is great, but it didnt work.


exactly what i thought..'bukowski"...pretty good entertaining though...definetly made me feel better!... Laughing
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
fartcough



Joined: 27 Apr 2009
Posts: 413

PostPosted: Fri Jan 06, 2012 10:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Here's an excerpt from a story I'm working on. It was inspired by a torrid love affair I had with my former landlord.

When the old bag turned her back to me, I chanced a quick glance at her doughy ass. I noticed the blue, old lady stretch pants covering her posterior had developed a damp line runing vertically over her butt crack.  I bet she had to take a giant dump and was literally sweating her ass off holding it in.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Conservationist
banned


Joined: 25 Feb 2009
Posts: 2909

PostPosted: Sat Jan 07, 2012 6:15 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

How I Came To Love Opeth

My life had failed; there was no denying it. I spent my Saturday nights prowling eBay for rare "black metal" releases that sounded more like Rites of Spring or Nation of Ulysses than elder Darkthrone. No matter -- I needed to get the taste of my day job making sandwiches at Thundercloud out of my mouth.

I was about to log off, masturbate to weeaboo porn and drink myself into a stupor, when I saw the last listing. OMFG original signed Nargaroth album with poster! I clicked but I was too late. On a whim, I sent a message to the seller seeing if he had more. He did, and he was in Austin where I live, and wanted to meet up just down the street.

No metal record collector (this is a term like "metalhead" but more refined) would refuse this offer, so I put on my pleather pants, 2nd best bullet belt, leather jacket with inset denim and patches, Axl Rose-style bandana with a Conqueror patch on it, and then my best chest-cross bandoliers. I looked at this in the mirror and I wasn't right, so I took it all off and switched t-shirts (Watain replacing Ofermod) and then put the whole ensemble back on but this time I used my first-best bullet belt and only one bandolier. Then I said, "Damn, nilla, this looks gay," so I switched back to two bandoliers and the first bullet belt, because the .50s in the second made it impossible to move with the bandoliers. As a result I was late.

I walked into Chuy's and looked around for my contact. I couldn't see anyone, until I looked in the far corner and saw what I thought was a reflection from a bullet belt and sunglasses. Tentatively, I moved in that direction, people scattering before me. When I got there, I almost passed out with shock. It was Caller of the Storms! He held up the LP and a whisky glass. I sat down and we started drinking. We just talked about cool shit, you know, bullet belts, crime, Blasphemy, war metal, violence, Blasphemy, urban decay, apocalypse, war metal, Blasphemy. Then he stood up and said, "I'm coming home with you!"

How could I refuse? On the walk back, he told me sort of shyly that he thinks black metal died in 1993 and what passes for it now is just a mess. The real spirit, he said, can come from only one thing. What's that I asked? He told me I'd find out, and I sure did. When we got into my place, I felt a solid THWOCK as the now-empty whisky bottle hit me on top of the head. I slumped to the floor.

When I woke up, Caller was holding a lit candle to my testicles. He told me that my education was about to begin. He put a record on the turntable. It was the delicious sounds of Velvet Cacoon! I started to hum along, and then he really put the flame to my balls.

When my screams stopped echoing off the walls, he told me we would start again. Another record went on the player. I didn't recognize it. The band had no angle, know what I mean? It was just plain jane old death metal. I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up and he was shaking a record in my face. "This is real death metal! Pay attention!" I later learned this LP was by a band named Sepultura (not related to the numu band) and was called Bestial Devastation.

This torture went on all night. He would take one of my precious USBM or blackened crust LPs and burn my testicles when I showed any sign of enjoying it. Then he would make me listen to some un-nuanced, middle of the road classic death metal and insist it was better. Worst of all, he smashed my "new classics" like Krallice and Leviathan. I was crushed.

When dawn finally brought relief, he pulled out one final album. Opeth's "Orchid." I said I liked that one and it looked like a first press, but I didn't own it. He looked at me with a mixture of scorn and pity, and said these words I'll never forget:

"Son, there's two types of metal. There's true metal and there's metal for bottom bunk punks. This here is the latter. All that crap you bought off ebay is also the latter. You better find yourself some early Sarcofago soon, or your soul will be lost forever."

He vanished in a puff of smoke. In the center of the room were all my precious FMP-approved albums, shattered. I still can't tell if it was true or a dream. They found me later that day wandering down Lamar, singing "If you are a false, don't entry" to the melody of an old Ray Charles tune. Now I spend my days in an asylum on a steady diet of Haldol and powdered eggs. Don't let this happen to you.
_________________
DEATH METAL UNDERGROUND
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Blutkvlt



Joined: 25 Feb 2010
Posts: 6414
Location: latino wizards guild

PostPosted: Sat Jan 07, 2012 8:05 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

heres my sotry tell me wut u tink:

>A gurl was walkin2 skewl wit her bf n they were crossin da rode.

>she sed "bbz will u luv me 4evr"

>he said "NO..""

>da gurl cryed N ran across da rode b4 da green man came on the sine.

>boy was cryin and went to pic up her body.

>she was ded.

>he whispered 2 her corpse "I ment 2 sey i will luv u FIVE-ever..." (dat mean he luv her moar den 4evr)
_________________
under a funeral shroom wrote:
I wish, I think Chris Barnes would be much more likely to be a guest on that Guy Fieri show.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
pataphysicien



Joined: 11 Feb 2009
Posts: 1147

PostPosted: Sat Jan 07, 2012 8:17 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Whenever I get a package of plain M&Ms, I make it my duty to continue the strength and robustness of the candy as a species. To this end, I hold M&M duels.

Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure, squeezing them together until one of them breaks and splinters. That is the "loser," and I eat the inferior one immediately. The winner gets to go another round.

I have found that, in general, the brown and red M&Ms are tougher, and the newer blue ones are genetically inferior. I have hypothesized that the blue M&Ms as a race cannot survive long in the intense theater of competition that is the modern candy and snack-food world.

Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is misshapen, or pointier, or flatter than the rest. Almost invariably this proves to be a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the candy extra strength. In this way, the species continues to adapt to its environment.

When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&M, the strongest of the herd. Since it would make no sense to eat this one as well, I pack it neatly in an envelope and send it to M&M Mars, A Division of Mars, Inc., Hackettstown, NJ 07840-1503 U.S.A., along with a 3x5 card reading, "Please use this M&M for breeding purposes."

This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a free 1/2 pound bag of plain M&Ms. I consider this "grant money." I have set aside the weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of hundreds, we will discover the True Champion.

There can be only one.
_________________
Quote:
Then, AS you Sweden, Too?
Compared to Finland,
your Country 90's death metal is very stupid & poor sound
Do you know why? Ask Your KING Dan Swanö .

Do you know ?
because of stupid like you. Died My old friend Jon Nödtveidt.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
blewcheer



Joined: 02 May 2010
Posts: 4866

PostPosted: Sat Jan 07, 2012 9:43 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Conservationist wrote:
How I Came To Love Opeth


Easily the most entertaining post I've read on this forum. Laughing
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
blewcheer



Joined: 02 May 2010
Posts: 4866

PostPosted: Sat Jan 07, 2012 9:44 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

pataphysicien wrote:
Whenever I get a package of plain M&Ms, I make it my duty to continue the strength and robustness of the candy as a species. To this end, I hold M&M duels.

Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure, squeezing them together until one of them breaks and splinters. That is the "loser," and I eat the inferior one immediately. The winner gets to go another round.

I have found that, in general, the brown and red M&Ms are tougher, and the newer blue ones are genetically inferior. I have hypothesized that the blue M&Ms as a race cannot survive long in the intense theater of competition that is the modern candy and snack-food world.

Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is misshapen, or pointier, or flatter than the rest. Almost invariably this proves to be a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the candy extra strength. In this way, the species continues to adapt to its environment.

When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&M, the strongest of the herd. Since it would make no sense to eat this one as well, I pack it neatly in an envelope and send it to M&M Mars, A Division of Mars, Inc., Hackettstown, NJ 07840-1503 U.S.A., along with a 3x5 card reading, "Please use this M&M for breeding purposes."

This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a free 1/2 pound bag of plain M&Ms. I consider this "grant money." I have set aside the weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of hundreds, we will discover the True Champion.

There can be only one.


This was really good, too.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
N.



Joined: 05 Jun 2011
Posts: 1196

PostPosted: Sat Jan 07, 2012 12:53 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

fartcough wrote:
Here's an excerpt from a story I'm working on. It was inspired by a torrid love affair I had with my former landlord.

When the old bag turned her back to me, I chanced a quick glance at her doughy ass. I noticed the blue, old lady stretch pants covering her posterior had developed a damp line runing vertically over her butt crack.  I bet she had to take a giant dump and was literally sweating her ass off holding it in.


This reminds me of some of the things I write hehe.

Well, thanks for the criticism guys...I'm not gonna complain and say my stuff is great or anything. I've enjoyed reading Bukowski's novels, but he hasn't been that much of an influence on me. I'd say two of my biggest influences have been Franz Kafka and Samuel Beckett.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message MSN Messenger
Display posts from previous:   
Post new topic   Reply to topic    Nuclear War Now! Productions Forum Index -> Main All times are GMT - 8 Hours
Goto page 1, 2, 3, 4  Next
Page 1 of 4

 
Jump to:  
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum


Powered by phpBB © 2001, 2005 phpBB Group