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uh oh .... untitledThey lay there entangled in each other.One of his arms sandwiched between the fatty folds of her tummy and his. She kissed the side of his face, right near his ear. "I love you", she whispered, softly. She heard him whisper "I love you too", but he didn't move. Right response, but she felt unsatisfied. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave it a good squeeze. "I lurrrrve youu" she said, just like she would if she was saying she loves chocolates. He didn't answer, but she felt him pull away. She opened her eyes to face his grinning eyes. yes. That's the reaction she wanted. in not so many words
01:03 PM, 2007-Jun-19
.. Concocted as Fictional Jam
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(16, to be exact) I got this bug from pizzo. She waits. She watches. She sees a prey. She jumps on it. Munches its head. Yummeh! ------------------ Tickle tickle. Giggle Giggle. Roll around. Toys found. Drool drool. Munch Munch. Tummy full. Good lunch. ------------------- She rushed for the bus. Closed the front door and realized she left the keys inside. ------------------- Tries to ignore the whispers around her but accusing looks made her sit quietly and cry. (inspired by ondeonde) ------------------- Sliced roast chicken. Shredded lettuce. Orange segments. Ranch dressing. Toss all in bowl. Sprinkle almonds. Yummeh! ------------------- I have cracked my head and found that it's actually quite easy, so, now you try! :) If happiness were sunbeams
12:39 PM, 2007-Feb-18
.. Concocted as Fictional Jam
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It rained just as we were about to cross the street a block away from the bus station. He grabbed my hand and urged "quick!" as he pulled me towards the curb, his other hand on his head.
As if it could keep him dry. We ran to the bus station, big droplets of water falling on us. I laughed. I love fresh rain. It's warm, and i love watching the first few droplets sizzle on the hot tarmac. Plus, he was holding my hand. That alone made me giddy. We got to the bus station a little soggy, but not soaked. He grinned at me and touched a dropped of water on my cheek. I searched for tissue paper in my knapsack, but didnt find any. He pulled up the edge of his t-shirt and wiped his face with it. I took a peek at his navel. He held out another edge of his t-shirt and offered it to me. I grinned, bent down and wiped my face, breathing in the smell of his skin. Gosh he smelled sweet. Sweet smell of sweat, I thought to myself. We stood there by the pillar where the old man with the cardboard box was selling peanuts, nyam-nyams and hacks, waiting for my bus. A lot of people were waiting there with us, but it felt like we were the only ones there. He finally managed to inch his way to the pillar and leaned his back against it. I pretended that the people in front of me were forcing me to lean against him. His chest felt warm against my back. His right thigh felt warm against the back of my left thigh. The smell of dust, rotting corn husks, burnt grease and exhaust fumes didnt seem to bother us a bit. "Number 33, that's mine" I told him as I saw a bus pull up. "Let's wait for the next one" he said, gently running his thumb over the back of my hand, the one he didn't let go. If my happiness were sunbeams, everyone there would've gotten burnt. Once Upon A time, in Hell
11:53 AM, 2006-Aug-2
.. Concocted as Fictional Jam
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My name is Dale.
I’ll have you know, that I haven’t always looked like this. I used to be quite a lean hunk of meat. I guess that was why The Woman Up There was attracted to me and picked me up and brought me to Hell’s Kitchen. She promised me that she would treat me well, that she would shower me with luxuries that I could not even imagine. I was speechless with excited agreement. But it turned out, after she left me in the cold for days on end, she had me pounded to a pulp. Then she left me sitting in this ugly bowl of an apartment. I was devastated. In her cruelness, there is a slight kindness though. Coz it was not long before The Woman introduced me to Miss Tatum Tater. Tatum was pounded to a pulp just like me, but before that, she had gone through worse. According to her, The Woman Up There thought she was too wild and raw, so she cut her down to size and had put her in The Fryer. Things happen to you in The Fryer. They turn the heat up so high on you that you have no choice but to change. You get soft. You get pliable. When The Woman was done with Tatum, she added salt to injury by pounding her to a pulp. Tatum and I, we were stirred up to mix and mingle. We were forced to meld together, but I didn’t mind. It may have been a marriage of convenience, but it was still, a marriage. Tatum’s fluffy softness was what held me together through the days, and my rough exterior held her strong. Our lives were further spiced up with a green Hispanic kid they called Chops Cilantro. Then came a thin, brown italian girl named Scalogni Affettare. Like Tatum, Scalogni too had been put through The Fryer. But instead of soft like Tatum, the heat put on her made her hard and brittle. Next came the French twins, Sel and Poivre. Poivre was slightly bigger than Sel, but The Woman took as much of him as she could handle. They were a mixed lot, but their presence in our lives made it all the more interesting. You could say that they brought their own unique flavours into our tiny bowl of life. Then The Woman Up There did something we never expected. She came and rolled us up like tiny balls. She even pressured us to flatten our spirits. We ended up like lumps heaped together. But the worse wasn’t over yet. She lathered us with eggs, then put us through The Fryer. It was my first time in The Fryer, and it was unbearable! Tatum and the kids held on tight to me, and with the cloak of eggs over us, we survived the heat together. That was how I became what I’ve become now. The experience had made my outlook darker and uglier, but inside, I think I’ve improved. My inner self is softer now, more textured and flavoured. I no longer think ill of The Woman. I see now, that she changed me for the better and I see her with longing and love in her eyes. I have finally become the true Dale. Burger Dale. 
Bergedil, a spiced meat and potato cake, a good accompaniment for rice noodles in soup.  :laugh:
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