Snypiuer

O.K., I believe you want (let me know if I'm wrong or in the ballpark at least!) a cooperative storyline (NIMBALL(tm), Death of the Mighty Pen, etc.) with random generation for certain actions. I know there are 1 player RPG's, unsure if those rules might work (haven't actually looked at one but I believe DriveThruRPG has some that can be downloaded for free). I do think I know where I can get a generic random generator. Not sure if I can attach it in a way that it comes up whenever anyone posts in that specific thread or if I'd have to set it up like the Literature Clock. Also don't know if it will save the results to keep everyone honest! A basic 1-5 level of severity might be enough or a 1-10 level of good to bad outcome? There are also online tabletop rpg systems (D&D has one) that allow for players to play online like they were in-person gaming, not sure if any are free or if that would even work for this. Just throwing out ideas! Imma go yell at my car now, it knows why!

The missionary who no longer believes, What will he become? What will he do? Does he seek to experience other . . . Positions? Does he take his time, Slowly, And thoroughly, Examining all his options. Does he then choose . . . Just one, To master? Through endless repetition. Constant. Methodical. Over and over, Until he can perform his duties flawlessly? Or does he attempt everything he finds before him? Frantically, And enthusiastically, Moving from one to another, Until, Exhausted, Yet fulfilled, He retires, Knowing he has lived. He has done everything he had ever dreamed of. Or, Will he hesitate? Out of fear, Of failure, Of that which he had never known. Will he be unmoving? Frozen from simple indecision. Befuddled by all the possibilities, Will he go limp, Fall to his knees, Overcome with the task before him. Stunned by the realization that he was now free. Free to do as he wished. Free to do whatever he desired. All with no repercussions. Will he be overwhelmed, Impotent. Unable to revel in his freedom? Will he remain as he is, Though he no longer believes? Performing as he always has, Going through the same old motions, Doing only that which he has always done, That which he is comfortable with, Out of habit. Out of dread that he, Might not, Really, Be free. That his loss of Faith, Is a test. A trap. Will this paralyze him? Constrained by the knowledge that, If he never, Actually, Indulges in his freedom, Satiates his desires, Or experiences any other position in life, He will never know if he is, Truly free, Or what could be. This is the Missionary's Position. NEXT LINE: Wait . . . was that an arrow!?

Umm, yes. It's PERFECT for the Conservatory! I know you've seen it, but check out The Labyrinth again, that might give you some ideas on how you can set it up. There are other RP's in there that you can also get ideas from.

Hey there little froggy What'chya doing there? Wait a minute . . . Who stapled wings to your back? Who superglued that clump of hair? You know you kind'a look like Elvis If he were a Fairy Frog. Gotta say You sure don't look like any toad I've seen singing on a log. I wonder if those wings Can really make you fly Or, at least, glide A bit If you jump Really, really high Hmmm Something is amiss I'm beginning to think You sit there Unmoving You stare without one blink Let's see what happens If I try to move you from there There's got to be a stick I can poke you with Lying around here Somewhere Here's one Time to find out if it's what I fear Yep You fell right over Face first And now I'm looking at your rear O.K. we'll just put you back Pretty much, the way you were found And I'll skedaddle In case your creator is around Wouldn't want my own wings Or a pompadour head of hair So, I'll be on my way Leaving you right there Have a good day and sorry for the poke I hope you didn't mind I will admit this You were a wonderfully Curious find.

Vibs is getting REALLY nervous. First auto shop, "Major problem, fix costs more than car is worth. That'll be a gross amount of money just for the bad news." Specialist shop (after a couple of weeks waiting for an appointment opening), "No, probably not, couple of moderately priced problems that can make it APPEAR to have a major problem. We don't fix them here. Get them done and we'll take another look for you." Snypiuer, "How much do I owe you?" Specialist shop, "Nothing, we just checked it." Snypiuer calls first shop, "Took car to specialist, said you miss diagnosed problem and they didn't even charge me to check, can I get a refund of the gross amount of money I paid you?" First shop, "No." Snypiuer: Waiting for opening at DIFFERENT shop to get smaller problems looked into. Vibs, filled with anxiety, stares at Snypiuer. Snypiuer, "Don't worry Vibs, by the time I get everything fixed, we'll be well into World War III and have a whole different set of problems to deal with." Vibs sheds a single tear and trembles. Comforting hugs all around!

The story's great so far, can't wait! Don't worry about self-imposed deadlines or goals, the fact that you're jumping back in is good enough. And, once you shake off the cobwebs and grease the wheels, deadlines and goals will just slow you down!

On a recent trip to Wally World, Snypiuer was bebopping along, minding his own and perusing the what-nots, when he heard a gentleman, not yelling but "forcefully" and, just on the verge of, frantically calling a boy's name as he searched for said child. As Snypiuer approached the area from which the calling emanated, he noticed a couple things. First, the gentleman was, perhaps, mid-twenties, but had slumped shoulders and a haggard appearance, as if all hope and will to live hadn't been drained from him, but ripped, violently, decisively and utterly, with no regard what-so-ever for even the smallest of his wants nor desires. Second, he was, not only, searching the aisles, he was searching the shelves. He was searching them like the child he was calling for was originally discovered living amongst the shelving of Wally World, captured and domesticated and, whenever he had the chance, would attempt to escape and return to his natural habitat. Being a helpful chap, Snypiuer said, "He's got to be around here somewhere, what's he looks like?" Without stopping his search or looking at Snypiuer, the gentleman holds his hand out about yay high and says, "About that tall, black hair, red shirt, blue jeans." Snypiuer is about to head over an aisle and search when a female voice from several aisles away calls out, "He's over here!" The gentleman looks at Snypiuer with hollow, empty, lifeless eyes and says in a quiet, weary, defeated, almost pleading voice, "everyday. every. single. day." Snypiuer watched as he slowly, dejectedly made his way to collect the child. Snypiuer couldn't help but think he looked like a man, knowingly headed to his own end - not like a hero or martyr sacrificing himself for a greater good, but as a man who is fully and completely aware of, precisely, the futility and inconsequentiality of his demise.

Somewhere in the Keep of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword the lifeless, naked (some would say bloated) "corpse"? of Snypiuer releases a copious amount of gas, sending dust bunnies fleeing in all directions. If one were to look very, very closely, they might, just might see the faintest of smiles and, perhaps, a finger twitch. WELCOME HOME!!!

JAMES!!! GREAT TO SEE YOU!!! Well, some people live paycheck to paycheck, Snypiuer seems to live crisis to crisis and DREAMS of living paycheck to paycheck. LUCKILY, Snypiuer is far too accustomed to his plight to worry and laughs, LAUGHS I SAY!!!, in the face of his adversities. Meanwhile Vibble "Vibs", the frog that lives in Snypiuers' pocket, is terrifed of the laughter stopping. Snypiuer commiserates with Vibs.

I actually have some things I want to write but have been dealing with car problems for last week, or so. As soon as I get my ___ together, I'll get to it! Hopefully soon.

To whom it may concern, Dust bunnies are mean, and I have NO idea why they pick on me. Yours Truly, Snypiuer P.S. It's not my fault I love Mexican food and it makes me gassy!

To whom it may concern, We know not why, the reason long since lost to Antiquity, we know only that he is our mortal enemy. A demon that has cursed our kind for so long, each and every one of us is born with full and complete hatred . . . and fear, of him. We can feel his presence, no matter the distance. It burns us. It freezes our soul. His nearness will cause the smallest and gentlest of us to attack with berserk fury. Blindly going to our deaths as we lash out against him with all the loathing woven into each and every fiber of our being. It is our Elders, the oldest and wisest of our kind, that have learned to plan, coordinate and ambush. This is when we have our victories, no matter how short lived. For how can mere dust bunnies kill an immortal demon? No, we have come to accept our eternal battle and have learned to use our few victories to our benefit. We have learned to drain his power, to feed off his essence and while, to him, it is an unadulterated pittance he will never even know is gone, and immediately replenished, to us it is a feast beyond any you can imagine - Our just reward for the suffering of our kind at his evil hand. So, pity us not and if you come upon his lifeless, naked body, allow us our rightful bounty . . . and poke him naught, for it is the poking which releases the poison which is our bane. Sincerely, Dusty

YES. This is exactly what I hoped for. You and Harmony have GREAT ideas on what these "seeds" can become! I'm thinking of making a new section, like the Literature Clock, maybe call it the Nursery, where anyone can post a "seed" and then others can post their vision of it in the Assembly Room, Banquet Room, etc. Maybe, just MAYBE, it will get some more activity going. One can only hope!

WONDERFUL!!! I believe most people would go with finding something in the box, but it being empty is brilliant because, of course, an empty box is meant to have something PUT in it.

O.K., I'll probably, eventually, send out a bulk email about this, but if you're one of the few that lurk, this will give you a head start if you're interested in it. I have a problem. *Ha-ha, I know, "You can stop there Snypiuer!" reaalll funny😒* ANYWAYS, I have this concept for . . . something. Not sure if it's a poem or a story, how long it is, genre, etc. just the seed of an unknown flower. What I need is others to grow it and see what they come up with. So here it is: "A small child finds a box under its bed that wasn't there before." That's it. I have NO idea ANYTHING else: Where it goes. Is the child alone. Is it day or night. How big the box is. How old the child is. Is the child curious or afraid. I can't come up with ANYTHING beyond the nascency of what it can be. So, if you've been wanting to write something for a while, let's see what you can come up with! I have a LOT of these seeds, so I may make a section for them. Let me know what you think.

Time threads, shmime threads and I'm pretty sure Flux is just a discontinued brand of cereal. Also, there's NEVER enough Suicide Squirrel Squads! - mainly because, for some odd reason, they never return from their missions, have to make a note to look into . . . wait a minute . . . strange🤨, it's a little after 3am and someone's at the door, wonder 🤔who it can be, I'll be right back!🤪 maybe.

Somewhere in the Keep of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword, Snypiuer is sweeping a long unused hallway when a shaft of light shines through a window and across his path, as if a cloud that had been hiding the sun had been, suddenly, whisked away. Intrigued, he takes a closer look and realizes that the light appears brighter, clearer . . . crisper than any light has the right to be - so much so, even the dust motes seemed fascinated by it, dancing around it, scrutinizing it from every angle and when finally brave enough to venture into it, sparkled with a mystical inner light as they hectically . . . joyfully, spun within its domain. It was at that moment, as Snypiuer marveled at the sight before him, the faintest, almost too distant sound caught his attention. He tilted his head a bit, "Curious" he thought. He could swear it was the sound of crystal chimes on the gentlest of breezes. The air around Snypiuer crackled with a brilliant energy as he sent out a small blessing of good will to the cosmos when he realized the significance of what he was witnessing. He then continued on with his sweeping, softly humming as a smile began to play upon his lips and he giggled, wondering to himself where and what, exactly, the miracle was that just happened. ********* HARMONY! MUSE! AAAHHHHH! life is good again. It's ALWAYS wonderful to see you stop by.

I found this article and wanted to share for Memorial Day. (Not sure who wrote the first part, before the article itself): Dogs have served in every major American conflict, all the way back to the Revolutionary War. If a dog of war is lost in combat, he or she is honored by the entire unit. Their bowl is symbolically placed upside down and a poem called Guardians of the Night is read in their honor. Guardians of the Night MAY 29, 2016 BY HARTELL WITH COMMENTS OFFON GUARDIANS OF THE NIGHT Memorial Day, or Decoration Day as it is sometimes called, is a federal holiday set aside to celebrate and honor United States men and women who have died serving their country in the military. Memorial Day originally began to honor and celebrate Union Soldiers who died during the American Civil War. It is customary to fly the U.S flag at half-mast from sunrise until midday, with many people visiting memorials and cemeteries to honor military people who lost their lives for their country, and remembering their loved ones who have passed on. On Memorial Day it is appropriate to also pay tribute to our working military dogs who are loyal, heroic, save many lives and help many troops who just need a friendly touch to help boost their morale. Dogs do not have the option of enlisting in the military. Yet, after they are chosen and trained, they stand next to their handlers, willing to give their lives for the humans. When a war dog locates a bomb, or a large cache of weapons or explosives, or even deters an attack, we seldom hear about it. In fact, according to USWarDogs.org , until about the year 2000, most of the military dogs were actually left behind, literally abandoned. After the Vietnam War, documentation estimates that only about 200 of the 5000 war dogs returned to the U.S. Thankfully this practice changed when President Clinton signed a law allowing for the dogs to be adopted, and now the dogs are adopted to individuals, police departments or other government agencies. (To learn how to adopt and/or support retired war dogs, google “adopt military working dogs”.) “Guardians of the Night” (author unknown) is a touching poem about military dogs that is often read at memorial ceremonies for our four-footed heroes: “Trust in me, my friend, for I am your comrade. I will protect you with my last breath. When all others have left you, and the loneliness of the night closes in, I will be at your side. My eyes are your eyes to watch you and to protect you. My ears are your ears to hear and detect evil minds in the dark. My nose is your nose to scent the invader of your domain. And so you may live, my life is also yours. Together we will conquer all obstacles, and search out those who might wish to harm others. It is for you that I will unselfishly give my life, and fill my nights without rest. Although our days together may be marked by the passing of the seasons, Know that each day at your side is my reward. My days are measured by the coming and going of your footsteps. I am your right arm, the sword at your side, your defender and protector. I attempt to do what you bid of me. I seek only to please you and remain in your favor. Together you and I shall experience a bond only others like us will understand I will listen to you without question, nor will your spoken words ever be repeated. I will remain ever silent, ever vigilant, always faithful and loyal. When our time together is done, and you move on in the world, Remember me with kind thoughts and tales of a time we were unbeatable. If needed at another time and place, I would gladly take up your fight. I am a military working dog, and together we are guardians of the night.” To those who courageously gave their lives, and those who bravely fight today, we say THANK YOU.

Snypiuer: I want to go on that T.V. show "Beat Bobby Flay". You: Really!? Snypiuer: Yeah! I would DESTROY him! You: Wow, you're THAT good a cook? Snypiuer: (Confused) Imma say what now? You: A cook. A chef. You . . . make . . . food . . . good. Snypiuer: Why would I have to be a good cook!? You: Have you EVER seen "Beat Bobby Flay"? Snypiuer: No. You: It's a cooking show where a CHEF cooks their specialty and BOBBY FLAY makes his own version of that specialty and then they're judged to see which one is better. Snypiuer: (Blank stare) Really? You: Yeah, really. Snypiuer: (Depressed) Well. O.K. then. Never mind. (Goes to put away his beating bat).

Did you do the artwork?

Time travelers keep trying to kill me . . . starting to question personal goals and ambitions.

Envision. If you can. Standing upon the ledge of the tallest building you can conceive of. Of wanting. Yearning. To leap off that ledge. To feel the wind speed past you as you plummet. To feel your heart beat faster. And faster. Your stomach tied in knots. Every muscle tense. Every nerve singing. Burning with an electrical fire. Adrenaline coursing through your body. Filling you with abject fear. And thrilling excitement. As you race headlong towards an assured fate. Yet. You do not take that step. Not out of fear. Or the lack of will. But. Because you know. You know. With a deep. Firmly rooted. Furtive. Sadness. That if you were to leap. Take that step. You'd simply float away. Like a gossamer web upon the wind. This. This is the nature of my madness. How I long to languish within the visions which invade my reality. To laugh with. To obey. The voices that whisper to me. That shout out my names. Challenging me. Cajoling me. Coercing me. How I wish I could accept them as real. To revel in complete. Detached. Irresponsible. Freedom. Oblivious to all consequences. Ramifications. Or aftermath. I hunger for the sweet embrace of their promised utter madness. Instead of knowing. With absolute clarity. They are naught but illusion. Aberrations contrived by some unknown mechanic. Gone awry. Somewhere within my psyche. My one fear. The aberrations will. One day. Become all. All I see. All I hear. And even then. Even then. I will know them for what they truly are. Precisely. Incontrovertibly. If you can understand this. You can begin to understand how an atheist. Faithless. Believes he is God. All the while knowing. Knowing. Such belief. Is pure. Complete. Absolute insanity. Then again. Who else. But God. Could do so.

Gods, Dream of Divinity. Of Divine Power and eternal life. They dream of Reality. Of mortal beings whose worship sustains them. Whose love and adoration impowers them. What if the Gods were to wake. Would the dream end. Would reality cease to exist. Would those mortal beings, Whose prayers are the lullabies that sooth their slumber, Simply disappear, In an instant. Or would those beings, themselves, wake. To find that it was they who dreamt. Dreams of Gods who dreamt of them. Would they live their lives Godless. Alone. Or would they lie down. Return to sleep. To dream. Dreams of Divinity.

Snypiuer does NOT reside in, nor has he visited, as of late, Altadena, California. Therefor he did NOT win the $2 Billion Powerball jackpot - an entirely new financial plan is being put together as I type . . . hmmm . . . Mega Millions is at $190 million . . . DRASTIC lowering of expectations and complete elimination of MULTITUDES of plans would be necessary . . . it's not ideal, but ya takes whats ya can gets . . . IT'S A PLAN!!! . . . now I just got to get someone to lend me $2 . . .💁‍♂️ 😇🤑

I was at a gas station when I heard this conversation today: *Customer hands clerk a stack of lotto play slips and the clerk runs them* Clerk: O.K., that will be $160.00. Customer: *Pays* Clerk: Thanks, here you go. *Hands slips, tickets and receipt to customer* Customer: Thanks . . . wait, these are Mega Millions, I wanted Powerball. Clerk: I'm sorry, those are the ones you gave me. Customer: Can I change them? Clerk: No. I'm sorry. We can't refund lottery tickets once they're paid for. Powerball is a separate lottery, so you would have to pay again. Customer: Why? I don't want to pay double. Clerk: You still get to keep your Mega Millions tickets. But, once you paid for them, those tickets are in the Mega Millions system and the store is responsible for paying for them, no matter what. If we refund your money, we still have to pay Mega Millions for them. *Customer has the clerk call the store manager and has a long conversation where, it's obvious, he's told the exact same thing. One thing, the guy was obviously upset, and he still didn't yell or talk down to anyone* Customer: *To clerk* Thanks, what time do you stop selling for Powerball? Clerk: You have to get all of them before 9. Customer: Thanks. *As he's getting his stuff together and leaving, he's on his phone* Hey, I got them, but I used Mega Millions slips . . . no, they can't refund or switch them . . . I'll explain it when I get home . . . yeah, I'm going to get more money and get the Powerball tickets before they stop selling. This guy then gets into a custom-built reverse-trike car, like a Slingshot but I think it was a Vanderhall . . . maybe. All I know is, as I pay my $30.00 for half a tank of gas, because that's all I can afford right now, I think to myself, "If I could afford that car and $320.00 for lottery tickets, I'd do the exact same thing. Good for him. Hope he wins something, just not the grand prize - that's for my one $2.00 ticket I already bought!"🤑🤑🤑