The poseur aped the manners of the lummox to impress the dilettante, whilst the wastrel and the roue looked on with barely concealed smirks and titillation.
Bountiful use of words...
Yes it is fun and well done, but I could not do any as good or any better, as proposed in the other thread. The idea is nice though to make it a weekly thing perhaps?
The poseur aped the manners of the lummox to impress the dilettante, whilst the wastrel and the roue looked on with barely concealed smirks and titillation.
A recalcitrant
roue, ignoring the distractions of the flummoxed
lummox, played the part of a pontificating, pedantic
poseur while waylaying the wealthy, hammered
wastrel who was arguing with the equally dipsomaniacal
dilettante.
dipsomaniacal ?!
dipsomaniacal ?!
i.e a lush!
The promethean artist carved a junoesque figure in marble with seemingly dionysian abandon, guided invisibly by that supreme palladium, an apollonian mastery of technique.
Quite apollonianly done as a whole, keep it going.
See you next week.
Dionysian and Apollonian are used in cultural anthropology to refer to people who, respectively, do or don't use psychotropic substances in their religious practice.
This is my entry
In a
prometean move yesterday, an
appollaoian Tennessee man's
dionysian bid of $122.03, won him a
junoesque treasure, when the safe he bought on eBay was opened without
palladium to revel an astonishing $26,000.
I tried a fusion of modern story and ancient words...does it work?
This is
News Story if you want to read it.
Hey, I forgot about this game! This is so cool! You know, it could also be fun to start it on a Monday, with just one sentence or phrase. Then somebody could add to it with the next day's word throughout the week. And if there's more than one story line, who cares? It's our game and we can make the rules!
Rools! We doan wan' no steenkin' rools!
Did somebody say use the five weekly words in one ______ ?
How about a limerick? [ducking-for-cover-e]
Maybe just a one-day/word limerick ?
Hmmm - a variation on sparteye's Game! It does have possibilities!
There is a sparty's game thread and a limerick thread already. Yes, fermented duck eggs for you, Wofa! Why not let this be clean as it came, a weekly phrase. No rools, no glittering prizes.
shoot >>>> the l i m e r i c k s
I admire Blither's clean compact phrases. Just enjoy!
There is, indeed, a Sparteye's Game thread, and I was the last to post on it, about a month ago. I am still patiently waiting for someone to take up my last challenge. No hurry - it'll come in time, no doubt.
Hey! Just seen your post, Candy! I managed ot miss it before - what a story and I love the way you've woven it into our weekly words!
It'sure ìs a crazy
story and the words do fit (bow Candy). On second thought it's a weird story. How did he get it? Did he have the key, if so how can you have the key of a safe you've never looked inside and not want to open it.
Did he sell it cheap because the key was missing. Was it a stolen safe? High time to set a PI on the case.
I had all those same questions too...Bran and no answers yet.
I hope more people have a go at penning a sentence this week...the words are looking interesting.
Despite the obstructive paraphenalia inherent in committees, our village Women's Institute and the Mother's Union, after years of mutual antipathy that reached down to their very viscera, declared a truce by promising not to use their respective insignia as graffiti on each other's meeting halls!
Some 10 years ago, there used to be a group called Partners in Rhyme who created limericks on Awad words. I do not know whether they are still around. Subscribers to the list could contribute. I used to.
I don't think I ever saw that, Avy. Did participants use all of the words, or just one or two at a time?
Very good Rhuby....I cant imagine the woman of that institute spraying any walls with graffiti but
Nor can I!! That's what made me laugh as I wrote it.
Laughing at your own jokes....there is a saying about that...but I cant quite remember what?
Just one. Just sayin though not suggesting. I guess we are all 'ricked out.
>>I guess we are all 'ricked out.<< Nah! - I can never get too much of 'ricks!
As a temporary truce had been declared, he adjusted his insignia and other military paraphernalia, departed on a sortie to inspect the curious battlefield graffiti of his enemies, and stepped on a improvised explosive device that erupted his viscera.
(applause) very good. You too Rhuby, back a page.
Some 10 years ago, there used to be a group called Partners in Rhyme who created limericks on Awad words. I do not know whether they are still around. Subscribers to the list could contribute. I used to.
but now, of course, we have the
OEDILF (OED in limerick form [wink, wink])
EDIT: random limerick
I love my new
blower—it's cool,
And now it's my favorite tool!
I have stopped using rakes,
Since the breeze this thing makes
Blows my leaves in the neighbor's new pool
Ha!
Blithe!
A great link, Michael - many thanks for it - and your Limerick is pretty cool to!
As a temporary truce had been declared, he adjusted his insignia and other military paraphernalia, departed on a sortie to inspect the curious battlefield graffiti of his enemies, and stepped on a improvised explosive device that erupted his viscera.
Excellent, blitherer!
Much more succinct than my rambling.
Yes blitherer, I agree....I enjoyed your sentence too.
but now, of course, we have the
OEDILF (OED in limerick form [wink, wink])
EDIT: random limerick
I love my new
blower—it's cool,
And now it's my favorite tool!
I have stopped using rakes,
Since the breeze this thing makes
Blows my leaves in the neighbor's new pool
:P
Good to have learnt the form and scansion, and meter. The rhyme I knew!!!
Avy--I'm so glad you're posting again! [HUG]
"You can laugh at your own jokes if it is the first time you've heard them." ??
During the festivities to celebrate the jubilee of the lyceum, the capricious French master made a cuckold of the Headmaster in the bucolic surroundings of the cricket pitch.
Edit or, to put it another way:-
The capricious French Master, with glee
Did cuckold the Headmaster, did he,
In a bucolic ditch
By the School’s cricket pitch
At the lyceum’s grand jubilee
At the jubilee celebrating the founding of the lyceum, the inebriated cuckold made a capricious pass at a young bucolic.
Neither the bucolic surroundings nor the terpsichorean beauty of the murmurings emanating just now from the lyceum's dim stage were sufficient to distract the cuckolded fellow from the rueful anticipation of tomorrow's jubilee celebration with the capricious harpy who was his first and only love.
Excellent, blitherer!
succinct!
I quote Rhubarb's Commando's wise words. I didn't yet try any rambling of my own.
Trying to write a phat phrase, making goo-goo eyes at the words, and giving props to the slang theme, and trying to glom on to it, makes for a pretty shambolic sentence!
Trying to write a phat phrase, making goo-goo eyes at the words, and giving props to the slang theme, and trying to glom on to it, makes for a pretty shambolic sentence!
Phat!
I'll give you best on this one, Blitherer!
(Too bad he left out "
grok" !)
Perfect again and now I tried some rambling. Children's book version.
Phat Cat made goo-goo eyes at Mouse who feigned giving him props but had no desire to glom on to his staring and made a wild shambolic escape.
When life hands you viscera, make IEDs?
Washington is full of shambolic goo-goos, but I give them all props for glomming the phat ideas of the past century.
Kudos to those making a sentence this week. With so many slang words it couldn't have been easy.
Washington is full of shambolic goo-goos, but I give them all props for glomming the phat ideas of the past century.
Would it be called nitpicking if I put to your's attention the fact that you added an
s and a
ming to the given words? I mean, how strict do we stay to the phat ideas of the past week's words?
(5 ....eighteen letter words for one sentence? )
Would it be called nitpicking if I put to your's attention the fact that you added an s and a ming to the given words?
This is a serious question when we seek to face the issue of, say, the number of words for
snow in a given Second People's language.
Would it be called nitpicking if I put to your's attention the fact that you added an s and a ming to the given words? I mean, how strict do we stay to the phat ideas of the past week's words?
Not sure if this is nit-picking or not, Bran. I must say the same question had occurred to me and I havered over whether to post on it or not. In the end, I decided against but I'm very glad you've raised it!
Personally, being something of a purist, I fell we should take the words of the week as they appear, without alteration: but I can see arguments in favour of using them as roots from which one can grow creative plants!
This is a serious question when we seek to face the issue of, say, the number of words for snow in a given Second People's language.
Just would like to know if it is this or
"maybe this but on the other hand maybe that". A good oldfashioned clear choice. It's not about the importance of the issue.
As this isn't a contest, but an unscored game, I can't see what difference it makes, but ...
He's a shambolic goo-goo, but I give him props for his willingness to glom the phat ideas of the past century.
It's an unscored game but this is just more "elegant" ?
On reaching the preantepenultimate chapter, the author subjects us to a harsh gedankenexperiment, asking us to leave our armchairs for a journey to a dystopian future in which a harsh reduction ad absurdum of the previous 3,000 pages ensues, stripping the story of all its former ambiguity and plurisignification, and we learn that the princesse lointaine had died centuries ago -- such are the labored plot manipulations of this lamentable genre of fiction!
I'm so glad no one will ask me to quote this one in front of an audience.
Here is the revision (in which the word "harsh" is used but once):
On reaching the preantepenultimate chapter, the author subjects us to an abrupt gedankenexperiment, asking us to leave our armchairs for a journey to a dystopian future in which a harsh reductio ad absurdum of the previous 3,000 pages ensues, stripping the story of all its former ambiguity and plurisignification, and we learn that the princesse lointaine had died centuries ago -- such are the labored plot manipulations of this lamentable genre of fiction!
Ouch! Just realized I used the word "harsh" twice - guess I'll post an emended version.
Haha, I noticed that! but I did not want to nitpick twice in a week.
The gedankexperiment in the preantenultimate chapter is reductio absurdum. "Plurisignification functions", in its understandable form, only serves as a princesse lointaine; a goal unattainable.
I can't even give this one a try but ad a phrase to congratulate Anu on his passed
18th AWAD - birthday week.
To celebrate this week's theme of words having plurisignification, here are two sentences:
The doxy, now enceinte, shouted a sarcastic bravo at the cant and vituperation hurled upon her by the pug nosed cleric.
One doxy after another was debated within the enceinte; and a sinister bravo negotiated the cant surrounding the castle's pug mill.
many possibilities then and good frases. Not sure if I can find time to bake one.
Could not resist.
"Please, dont give me that cant" said the doxy, while her pug set his teeth firmly into the bravo 's left leg, " being enceinte is not such a big deal".
If we can subsume our ability to discomfit our adversaries into a general design of malice against them, we need not begrudge them their minor victories, while we avulse from them their very decency and machinate for their downfall.
This exterted some powerful energy as I could not just read it, I had to study it. I do not begrudge you your ability to get a good phrase out of these impossible words.
Ouch! Just realized I used the word "harsh" twice - guess I'll post an emended version.
Dont be so 'harsh' on yourself, blither.....you are very good on this thead.
(I'll have a go at sentence tomorrow
my time).
After our waiter cried alley-oop and uncovered the costly kickshaw, he returned to the kitchen toot sweet to parry the demands of the inquisitive sous-chefs, and next raised a mayday over the grease fire that was consuming our entrées.
I really like this one, blitherer!
Yes, it's good fun this one but gee, I hadn't even noticed the week is over wordwise. Yes, good going. Tsjoo! Time flies!
You are too kind ... Many thanks!
I'm hoping this week's nautical theme won't leave me feeling seasick!
Maybe you could stabilize by contributing to some other thread?
EEP! Branny, I missed your birthday, at least in your time zone.
Happy belated, Dear, and I hope you had a really great day.
Yeep! Thanks Jackie. We celebrated last Sunday as we all work on Wednesday. Still yesterday was a pleasant and turbulant day with whipped cream eclairs for my students and a lovely out-dinner with son and grandson. All in all just one day older than the day before.
Yes, happy belated birthday to you too.
Thanks, though does ending up in this thread mean Jackie supposes I celebrate all week? Hi, Jackie!
Darned right! And you deserve to! Cake! Ice cream! Strawberries dipped in chocolate!
"Avast!" cried the skipper at the scupper, "what's the scuttlebutt? - any end in sight to this doldrums? - and have ye got a bonanza of cargo?" when a sudden groundswell threatened to capsize both crafts.
On learning of the groundswell of opinion, the CEO appealed to staff to disregard the scuttlebutt permeating the company and warning that, far from a bonanza in the near future, the current doldrums threatened to scupper their business.
Spoken like a true CEO. Bravo!
I'm afraid I never made it to CEO
Best I did was the Engineering Innovations Executive Inspecting Officer - a title too long for the plate on my door, which just said
E..I..E..I..O
McDonald's Farms, Inc. or (LTD.)?
All's well that groundswell.
In that small scuttlebutt village the perpetual groundswell of gossip scuppered the county fair bonanza, leaving summer festivities in the doldrums.
Congrats, Branny - that is so economical with words!
Amen Rhubarb, not to mention neat, concise, and coherent.
I guess it takes knowing two languages to master one if that one happens to be English.
Good show, Branny.
Thanks >< I love concise, but mainly focussed on the non nautical use of the words. It just worked.
Thank you, it looks like this week's words will provide even more angles.
His date, a paragon of virtue, could hardly countenance his conduct, though he tried to gloze his tendency to tarry and bluff his way out of having arrived an hour late.
I hope you will countenance my delay as I tarry to bluff you out of your good performance; I do not gloze the fact that you are the paragon of weekly phrases.
( Does this look like glozing? it ìs! )
It was his greatest foible, as well as his forte, that he handled with masterful élan every conversational riposte, yet felt himself immeasurably wounded by each touché of his interlocutor.
Matching forte to forte and foible to foible their conversation admitted neither victory nor surrender until her last riposte, tossed over her shoulder with consummate élan as she paused in the open door, struck him with the force of a physical blow, leaving him only the breath to sigh "Touché."
Applause for your bold first post bethann, and eversosuccinct blitherer! Two conversational pieces. I still think: 'foible forte riposte élan touché... what stew to cook from this porridge?'.
En garde! Very nice, bethann!
A rather liberal use of the words and open to critisism but:
With foible fingers he had tried to play forte on the grand piano, but where was the élan which used to gain him that warm riposte of applause; had he really lost his touché?
This tickles me ... bravo, BranShea!
He received counsel wise from his mentor,
Nestor gave love advice -- brave inventor!
"Neither hector nor bully
Your Tartary filly,
Young satyr, seize what heaven sent her!"
Sorry blitherer. Besides them being impossible words I've had no time to get it together this weekend. I hope I will catch up in coming days and still try to understand the exacts from your brave sentence(s):~)
Young
satyr, beware of choosing a
nestor for your
mentor; like a true
hector he'll bully you the
tartar off your teeth.
Midweek brilliance
Bon mots, BranShea! Terrific image there!
At first his position seemed tenable through the casuistry of his advisors, but the emergence of discrepant views rendered all his consuetudinary bonhomie unavailing.
Yeh, that's a nice crispy phrase, blither. No clue yet how to match or even come close to this one.
I must admit my incapacity here. A different angle of approach seems impossible to me. Very Good!
But on Greece and Europe?
No tenable arguments will change the discrepant measurements after frenetic casuistry has made them decide that consuetudinary attitudes can no longer be availing.
(not my usual vocabulary)
As their captain attempted to triangulate a course, the first mate, normally a man of foursquare habit, was seen to swing on a makeshift trapeze slung between the fore and main topgallants, while the rest of the crew pursued one another in a vicious circle, performing actions entirely orthogonal to their duties.
Very nice mis en scene, Blither :~)
Thanks, BranShea, I really had fun with that one! The other scenario that sprang to mind was a high school geometry class ... perhaps that will inspire you?
Aye! Maybe.. something may spring to mind coming days.
When Renaissance painters discovered orthogonal projection they made a foursquare reverence to it and swung the perspective trapeze obsessively, ending in the vicious circle of a triagulate position between reality and deception.
So obsessed was he with his copperplate hand, he became a virtual tin god, forever grasping for the brass ring of approval, with an iron curtain visage enlivened by the faint silver lining of a derisory smirk.
The faint
silver lining of a derisory smirk???
Hajhaahah!
Clark Gable's moustache in 'Gone with the Wind'.
Good, good.....
I really like this set of words so I think I'll stretch the deadline till I get something out of them. If ever.
Just to point out that the article on "brass ring" omitted the information that most of the rings in the dispenser were steel or iron. So simply catching a ring did not win a prize, unless the brass ring was the one being offered. Friends of mine learned to pull several rings in succession, in one pass, in case the brass was next or even two or three after the one visible. The ride operator could also swing the dispenser arm back so no rings were offered for a time, and no chance for a brass ring at all.
The marriage licence in fainted
copperplate handwriting could not save her from acknowledging that he'd been just a
tin god who never won the
brass ring and the
iron curtain that separated their once united hearts had no
silver lining.
(
and ain't it sad .... )
Ah, the game of life! So often it appears to be rigged ...
Ah, sorry I missed this -- brilliant, BranShea!
A tall marble monument marked the grave
Of one who'd been fashion's queen;
And I thought, "She is happier here at rest,
Than to have people say when seen:"
"She's only a bird in a gilded cage,
A beautiful sight to see.
You may think she's happy and free from care,
She's not, though she seems to be ..."
The flagitious couple embarked on a spree of crime unchecked by the thewless forces of the law, he aping the manners of the flaneur, she those of the prima donna, and for villainous intent, neither would be proved a cunctator.
A tall marble monument marked the grave
Of one who'd been fashion's queen;
And I thought, "She is happier here at rest,
Than to have people say when seen:"
"She's only a bird in a gilded cage,
A beautiful sight to see.
You may think she's happy and free from care,
She's not, though she seems to be ..."
"She's sad when she thinks of her wasted life,
For Youth cannot live with Age,
Her beauty was sold
For a Rich man's gold;
She's a bird in a gilded cage."
Ha, a combined cheerful
intermezzo of lovely poetry. I'm behind with even reading last weeks words. There's too much to do. So Blither, thanks for the sentence (
always giving me the advantage of having an examplary example). Hope to make it before midweek.
You can't expect a thewless cunctator to be a prima donna flaneur on the flagitious boardwalk.
We do not enjoin our liege from any desideratum: so may he nickel-and-dime his way through life, or spend his patrimony to a prodigious degree; and we have no power or desire to cull his decisions.
Posting from Berlin; please excuse tardiness!
Ooh! Hope you're having a great time, Sweetie!
No
prodigious phrase, no Wortschatz to
cull from, no
liege to make me
enjoin this contrary adventure, so I'll content myself to give y'all this
nickel-and-dime treatment.
(
the hollow phrase society)
However, bleib gesund und munter, ganz toll und tapfer u.s.w.!
Her propensity to ratiocinate tended to redound upon her (though not always in a good way), but this did not daunt her, as her tenacity enabled her to exculpate her clients, and thus her reputation could perdure.
Apologies for tardiness, I'm still in Berlin (viel Spaß!)
Have a nice time in Berlin. Five verbs are not managable in my case. I have a vacation too this week. Cheers.
His willingness to adulate did not persuade, and, her sere skin ablated, she lost all facial esthenia, requiring her physician to ausculate.
Welcome back. It looks like a very good sentence but as these are words... I already forgot what they mean except for adulate.
I adulate your sentence but I think Anu makes it more difficult every next week. I skipp this one, the actual ones look more familiar. So, Friday.
My complice and I, can we with sufficient durance monish the versal world of slick advertiser's suation?
Excessive pudeur had never afflicted our femme fatale, who, on opening a billet-doux of a risqué bent, settled back into her chaise in simpering, provocative deshabille.
Late because of out of town and out of computer.
A belated French kiss from an English civil servant.
Samuel Pepys' femme fatale was often a maid or a shopkeeper's daughter, for who he would overcome his persistent pudeur and as billet doux would try a caresse risqué which occasionally resulted in the much pursued deshabille.
(so much for history (1633-1703) )
"Purl many rows to make a fey cote the fisc can't touch", was the kind stranger's coze.
That would take a lot of purling, BranShea! -- but I like it!
I'm still knitting and no time left for weekly sentences ...