I know some of you read the Dingo in the morning, so for those of you who aren’t fully awake yet, I’ll take a moment to explain the title. Always one to see how convoluted I can get, and how many meanings I can squeeze into the same few words, the title of this post is a combination of the name of the movie starring Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal, as well as a Japanese term for voluntarily ending your life. Are you with me? No? Then pay attention, because this is about when I met MDW*.
(Oh, and Tiger Lamb Girl, it will be serialised so you may want to come back in a few days, unless you just want to come here to take the quiz (which may prove to be even more frustrating than having to read a serial if recent comments are any indication)). Wow nested parentheses, how very mathematical.
Why would I write this story in detail right now, especially since I have already written briefly about it in the past? Simple, I just noticed that Ree is writing a serialised account of how she met Marlboro Man, and she got 250 comments on the latest instalment alone! So I figure if she can get 250 with the Mills & Boon version (not my words incidentally, I got that from one of her commenters), I should be able to get at least 25 with my Hemingway like treatment of my story, humility alone should be worth some kudos.
Let’s face it, her stuff is ok but really, do we need all the sweet sentiment and girlie emotion? Not to mention all the unnecessary stuff, like adjectives and adverbs and descriptive phrase and…mmm… such like (thank you Miss South Carolina, I was momentarily lost for words). And don’t even get me started on all that punctuation crap she uses, what a waste of time! No, I’m going for the guy’s approach, clear concise and to the point, just like when Julius Caesar uttered those immortal words "Veni, vidi, vici" to sum up the situation completely when he finally got the recipe for his salad dressing just right.
And just like Mr Caesar, my whole story can be summed up in a simple statement of fact, "We met, we screwed, we married", unless of course you’re one of those who are opposed to pre-marital sex, in which case it’s "We met, we married, I got screwed". I was going to translate it into Latin for you but it was too much trouble, plus I think they must have used something else instead of screwing to describe fornication back in the old Roman Empire days because I had a hell of a time finding screwing in the Latin English dictionary.
So starting tomorrow, tune in for the full story behind how I managed to get myself hooked by a scheming, desperate, aging spinster. Jeez I hope she’s not reading this!
PS. I have a confession to make. Yesterday’s problem of losing the post, while starting out life as small glitch with TP, was really my fault. Had I been paying attention to what I was doing, and had I not been trying to be quite so clever (you should have seen all the formatting in the original post), I wouldn’t have lost anything. But hey, come on, hands up those who have never blamed their screw up on the technology. The worst day on TypePad is still better than the best day on Blogger.
Filed under: Serials |