WRITE YOUR OWN EPITAPH

[Minna]

.

[Violet]

What's this discussion about working with death? Care to elaborate on that?

Minna, although I'm not entirely sure what your question is (it's a translation thing, I guess), I will elaborate anyway, since that's what we do here. It makes for a nice big pile of confusion at the end, which is what we (turning) Ugly Losers Forum members (that last word's for Mickey) prefer...

Sexuality and death comprise an age old theme (as Lord of One is well aware, especially given, well, his various activities at court, and the differing wigs 'n other paraphernalia required for that).. now where was I? Oh, sex and death... the little death (that's French)... Mickey, it seems, prefers more of a Big Bang death, but to each is own.. now where was I? You know I'm really distracted now. I mean the sheer size of this thing looming over all of these proceedings is making it rather difficult for me to even -- I will have to get back to you later... I think a long, hot shower is in order...

... where's the last of that damn amaretto? Cate? Where are you? Maybe you can handle 'im... v. (in need of that long hot shower -- or should it be cold?...)

[... that should be (turning) Ugly Losers Forum members, by the way... Signed, Violet... forever conscientious toward her readership...] [I can't sleep for some reason (too aroused, I guess) so I corrected the word in the text as well...] [okay, and now I finally pasted in my Minna quote...]

[Minna]

.

[Violet]

Imagine a peaceful graveyard, with a lovely heart-shaped gravestone -- and violets, no doubt, blooming all around it, the epitaph reading:

"DEATH IN THE AFTERNOON"

"Although it was SEX that killed her*..."


...*look to rancid tabloid archives for scandalously morbid details (or is that morbidly scandalous?)...


... okay, thanks to, well, you know who, I have been doing far more procrastinating (stimulating though it may be) than I'd ever dreamed possible... I guess that means thanks are in order, then, My Lord M. of One, for all the sundry services your manly masterfulness so magnificently -- I just ran out of 'm' words... signing off now (to the great relief I'm sure of one tuckered out mickey_o (hey wasn't it YOU who inserted that great big PENIS here in the first place?)... violetxxx...

oh, sorry, Minna, my posts keep missing yours... glad if I cleared something up, although I think you misunderstood... Lord Michael of One, though a frequenter at court, is most definitely in the entertainment industry... v.

[Violet]

Minna,

In the interest of full disclosure (as I'd been joking with you before), the Lord who has been gallantly courting me throughout this thread is indeed the barrister you suspected him of being, and given the nature of his cases he is, it seems, surrounded by death. Now, why this means he and I can't have a civil cup of tea sometime should I visit his fair kingdom, I honestly don't know, although I'm trying to train my singing voice to emulate that dirge-like quality as rendered by Leonard in his Bird number so that I can entice Lord M. to meet up with me, since obviously that's the "song" to which he'd been referring earlier (the one he so desperately craves having sung to him, it seems). It may not sound like much to you (or me, in fact), but it is obviously some sort of, well, aphrodisiac for this poor, death-atrophied Lord of the Court.

I hope this answers a bit more comprehensively, Minna, most of your questions concerning this noble personage, and that this post will make a little nice surprise for you upon your awaking in your lovely land of Finlandia (are you in the dark season, by the way?)...

always,

violet

[Cate]

where's the last of that damn amaretto? Cate? Where are you? Maybe you can handle 'im... v. (in need of that long hot shower -- or should it be cold?...)

So V. you want me to handle 'im ... while you take a hot a steamy shower...?
ummmmm.....
well...
Is there going to be some kind of cheesy 'wakka chikka wakka chikka' music, suddenly playing for no apparent reason, by any chance?
Also if a delivery girl shows up at the door, drenched in her white t-shirt because of the sudden rain - will she have with her Chinese food or Italian?

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Violet, I think you need a different Amaretto Recipe -

A little kalua (I mean a little - like spoon full)
the same amount of Baileys (poured into the glass down a spoon)
the same amount of Amaretto (poured over Baileys - again down a spoon)
if you want to be fancy you can add cream

drink quick

now if you're serving a big bang type you'll want to add a little scream - that would be vodka

note - I looked this up to post, I couldn't actually remember. I once had a job in which I pretended to be a bartender, but other then a cheeky friend, I don't think anybody ordered this drink from me. I used to get a lot of requests for Sex on the Beach though.

[Cate]

This one would be good for me.

Here would lie Cate
If only she hadn't gotten lost

[Violet]

Hi Cate,

Gosh, I could have used you this afternoon -- that was A LOT of man to have to handle alone... You could have brought the ratchet straps -- extra large ones, obviously. But really, we'd have needed some sort of engineer on the premises -- oh, I guess I'm thinking of that phallus like tomb. Still, it's been rough, and right now I really could use that kalua drink -- it does sound like a scream (and then some, but I won't go there, I'm still recovering from the blueberry drink)... Does it have a name? The Nameless Kalua Drink. Or, maybe it should be The Blameless Kalua Drink (that way Lord M. won't need to be consulted no matter WHAT happens)... Gee, my mind is really in the gutter tonight... I'm not sure why that is.

I like your epitaph... and what follows... is it that you really weren't dead yet, and got lost? Or perhaps you wandered off at your karmically "official" time of death sort of thing... it could lead to a story I think... Cate, relieved of her usual duties on this earth is now free to wander the planet... unaccountably, she still has a thing for ratchet straps... you can see her securing heavy objects to people's vehicles, it's uncanny how good she is with those straps... I think I just made a 'Violet' clone with that. Sorry.

O.K. I am beat (thanks to you know who). Oh, I appreciated your first epitaph as well, but neglected to say so. It was endearing...

night Cate, and thanks for the new recipe, I think I'll have it with breakfast tomorrow morning -- that way I'll be ready for another day of serious procrastination at the fallus -- uh forum (some one help me),

Violet

[Violet]

where's the last of that damn amaretto? Cate? Where are you? Maybe you can handle 'im... v. (in need of that long hot shower -- or should it be cold?...)

So V. you want me to handle 'im ... while you take a hot a steamy shower...?
ummmmm.....
well...
Is there going to be some kind of cheesy 'wakka chikka wakka chikka' music, suddenly playing for no apparent reason, by any chance?
Also if a delivery girl shows up at the door, drenched in her white t-shirt because of the sudden rain - will she have with her Chinese food or Italian?

Okay, as I've done before with your posts Cate, I didn't see this part until now... weird... I have to think about the Italian or Chinese food question -- that will take some thought... who's the chick, by the way? Just a drenched local doing the usual deliveries, I guess. I really have started a porn thread, haven't I? How hath this befallen me? I, of the uppermost, highestmost, cleanethmost(of the bathroom just yesterday as it happens), standards have descended into this grimy pit, and all because of one depraved (well endowed, it seems) -- oh God, get me some non-legal counsel!

My very best intentions to have this thread serve as -- yes, as a kind of hearth, in fact, so that we all might get together and share some significant aspects of ourselves in regards to preparing for, well, you know, that time, and now THIS happens... these are hard times it seems -- OH, there I go again -- Cate!! make this stop!!... please -- Cate!!
v i o l e t....

[Cate]

Okay, as I've done before with your posts Cate, I didn't see this part until now... weird...

Morning

I added that part later, after 11 when I was to tired to behave.

The drink is an Orgasm, although I think something might have been left out, but I do remember if you add vodka it becomes a Screaming Orgasm.

I'd leave an epitaph to get things started again, but my head is still to tired.

Cate

[Violet]

The drink is an Orgasm, although I think something might have been left out, but I do remember if you add vodka it becomes a Screaming Orgasm.

Okay, what was left out, Cate, was the NAME of the drink, obviously... and that vodka ain't helpin' either. Screaming Orgasm -- please. How am I ever going to get this place back on proper footing?... Oh good, unless you have a foot fetish, that last line passes as "decent."

Well, whatever happened yesterday was yesterday. I can't imagine (well maybe I can imagine) -- no, I really can't sanction that EVER happening again...

Okay, you guys, time to come up with some sincere -- and yes decent (in the more orthodox sense of the term) -- epitaphs... I will be checking in from time to time during the course of this chilly weekend (where the skies are a bit gray, it seems)... so I expect to see some results...

Bye Cate (hope your head is feeling better),

Violet

[Violet]

... by the way, I believe your name was Jillian (at least I think it was)... where's that lovely school teacher related epitaph you had posted for a while yesterday? Now that one could really help to set the proper tone around here... just wondering... v.

[later note: this post is directed to someone whose name may be "Jillian," not Cate (nor was I meaning to imply that Cate somehow morphed into this "decent" Jillian person (yeah, like that's ever gonna happen...) -- only kidding Cate, especially considering your bartending skills alone suggest you're something of a saint to many of us... v.] [moment later note: I cant' believe I just said that, given I was just in the midst of trying to clean things up around here... maybe I should return to my "Sign" thread and sharpen my Good vs. Evil skills, or should I say Good against Evil skills, as I seem to being getting lax in that department... v.]

[Violet]

Well, it's been a quiet Saturday at ye ol’ forum (so called), and no new takers it seems for this epitaph challenge. So, to switch things up a bit, I thought I’d post a poem that I’d posted on Leonard’s birthday thread. I’m posting it here not for crit purposes but due to its subject matter...


As concerns Cate's charmingly funny, albeit on point comment below, here's the intro to this poem, which is also posted on L's Birthday thread, as I too was aware that my posting such a poem could be interpreted as being on the "morbid" side (I hope this covers it, Cate):

... I’m posting one more poem here since my mind started wandering over mountains, and… in any case, I don’t mean to be morbid with this, especially on Leonard’s (now belated) birthday thread. Instead, I thought to speak of what it is to be deeply missed...


And so, to Leonard, whom I imagine many of us will deeply miss some day, and to all of us as concerns those nearest and dearest…



The blessed contours of your face


this earth
a desolate place,

without
the blessed contours

of
your face.

and

in the way of mountains
crumbling down
in
death’s bereft, I fear this

loss (when mountains
will be left.)


though with your self
evolving

toward its end (no
time to waste)

when finer threads of mind
dissolve to grace;

in loss
we’ll keep these

smallest clues (the pen
you used to

use) as
if your secret

had a secret
place.


But now

in slumbering mountains
do I find,

such shades of loss as
tends this grieving

mind,

for
mountains in their midnight
deftly trace,

these

quiet

beloved contours

of
your face.



Violet, 09 27-29 08

[Cate]

This was your birthday poem V.?
It's a good poem, but....
a birthday poem?

Happy b-day, I'll miss you when your dead.
Hallmark will have to start a new isle for you.

I'm teasing, it's beautiful and very true.

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Epitaph for a poet

I sang of thighs
I sang of breasts
I sang of shoulders
soft and black as soot
white and soft as cloud
and of curved lips
from which kisses
fell like rose petals
or flew like birds
wilder and wilder
I sang
as I grew older
and my loins wrinkled
like the forehead of a sage

Irving Layton

[Minna]

.