Orlando’s Back!

For those of you who were part of the 920 writers group, you’ll be happy to hear that Orlando got in touch under the page called “Creative Writing” here.  I’m sure he’d be happy to hear from some of his old (and hopefully a few new) friends.  Encourage him to hang out here!

47 Responses

  1. Thanks Ann
    I will say one thing positive about VicThor’s remarks. My inner voice has been working overtime. She’s saying “you shudda said &&$$&&@@$$&!, and then you shudda said $&&@???!$&@$! ”
    Meegiemom

  2. To All,
    I edited out VicThor’s more negative postings.
    I appreciate the way everyone has stuck up for each other!
    This is supposed to be a place to experiment and enjoy writing. I shall endeavor to keep it that way. –Ann

  3. Dearest Lando,

    I’m so, so sorry that you’ve had to deal with the negative comments that have been written here. I know you’ve been enjoying your time here and to have this dumped in your lap is inexcusable.

    Please, please don’t be discouraged. We’re here to have fun and that’s enough for us. If we were writing to be published, I suspect we’d go elsewhere.

    Something tells me you’re not taking any of this nonsense to heart. It shook me up, that’s no lie!!!

    Your friend,
    Cheryl

    1. Dear Cheryl, what’s going on? What did I do to deserve such special comment from Victor? I know my English is bad and I have apologized for it.
      I just wanted to write goofy stories with no further ambition of being published.
      Meanwhile, please forgive me if I have offended anyone.
      Thanks for your support.

      1. Hi Lando,
        VicThor has some issues, but he has been warned to keep it positive or I will be deleting his postings. It’s not you. Believe me. It’s not you. Love your goofy stories! –Ann

      2. You don’t deserve the nasty comments and I don’t either. Let’s just shake it off and go on as if it never happened. I promise to do so if you promise to do the same. Deal, Lando???

  4. Thanks for calling me out, MM! You are absolutely right!
    What I wrote was utter garbage and I apologize!
    Orlando and Cheryl, please find it in your hearts to
    forgive me!

    And, MM, you are right – I am not a writer. I apologize to you too!
    Why would I post such rubbish? I don’t know what I was thinking!
    And, to everybody else – please ignore my earlier posts. I know
    its hard to do but think of them as writing of a lunatic who was
    not in his right mind … I know that’s lame.

    I know a simple Sorry can never take away the pain I caused …

    Thanks again, MM for calling me out.

    VicThor

  5. VicThor
    We’ve met before, and I’ve made every attempt to understand you. Now, my friend, I must pin it down. You are a BULLY! If you claim you’re a writer, why are you bothering us with the garbage that you post? Why are you not busy getting published? If any of our peers read this, I’d like to hear them sound off on this subject. Folks? Is there any value in this junk that VicThor throws at us?
    You know me, too.
    MM

    1. Thank you meegiemom for stepping in with your thoughts; Your concern is greatly appreciated.

      1. Oops. Ann has offered two writing challenges since Blog Soup. Where have I been??????? You may want to put your four part story on Ann’s most current page: Precious Gems.

  6. Zerbo (part4) January 2014

    Zerbo was already awake by the time he heard the first crow of the rooster. He went out and walked towards the meeting place they set up the day before. It was still night outside and a cool refreshing breeze was blowing across the farm.
    After a couple of minutes of waiting, Salero showed up.
    They said good-morning to each other and then Salero took over.
    “The plan is to gallop straight up to the end of the farm and then come back going around its perimeter.”
    “But I’ have never done that, Salero. So I don’t know how fast I could gallop nor if I would have enough energy for such a long ride” Zerbo sounded apologetic.
    “Don’t matter, my friend, don’t matter. I shall adjust to your speed and will ride back with an easy trot. What do you think are friends for?” Salero said reassuring the zebra his determination to help him.
    “ Real friends adjust and accommodate to each other. Today, I adjust to your needs and tomorrow perhaps you will have to adjust to mine. Don’t you worry. You set a comfortable pace for youself and I will follow.”
    “Thank you, Salero. I really appreciate your concern and your understanding. So, let’s go.”
    “One moment. Before we start we must stand up in our hinder legs, stretch our front legs up on the air and let out a loud and long neigh.” explained Salero.
    “Well, you neigh and I bray” responded Zerbo.
    “Fine and dandy with me. You do your thing and I do mine.”

    They did the exercise and let out their own sounds. Finishing with the preliminaries, the two friends started a happy slow trot towards the sun which at that time was breaking out of the horizon.
    The end.

    1. May I suggest, Lando, that you post your four part story on Ann’s Blog Soup page. I don’t think people are finding it here.

  7. Zerbo the zebra. (Part 3)
    Zerbo (part 3) January 2014
    Two days after his self-imposed isolation, Zerbo decided to come out of his stall in the middle of the day when the temperature was reaching 100 degrees.
    He knew that at that time most of the animals were taken their siesta in order to avoid the intense heat.

    He was right; not other animals were around except for few chickens, interesting in continuing with their eternal exercise of picking and pecking invisible things off the ground.

    Zerbo walked with hesitation since his legs were kind of numb on account of him being laying for so long. He had lost some weight and the color of his stripes were not as glossy as they used to be. Still, he walked with his ears down and with no enthusiasm at all.

    He was thirsty so he set out for the large water hole situated about 200 feet behind and to the west of the house. A short distance from the water line, two majestic oak trees spread a wide area of shade in the afternoon providing a comfortable cooler shelter for the animals.
    After he got his fill he felt better. Then, raising his head the saw what seems to be an unbelievable spectacle.
    The Arabian horse was coming his way running at full speed up and down the hills.
    Zerbo wanted to get away before the horse reached the water hole, but it was too late. The horse came rushing next to him, stood up on his hinder legs, moved his front legs in and out in the air as he was boxing and let out a loud neigh. Finally, he came down on his four legs with a vigorous stomp. He was sweating profusely, his nostrils were flaring violently and he kept his eyes moving in all directions.

    It took a while for him to drink the water he needed. When he finished, he looked at Zerbo and said with satisfaction: “Boy, nothing better than a good gallop in a hot day and a long drink of sweet and fresh water afterwards”.

    “ Hello, who are you?” he continued.
    “I am Zerbo, the zebra” responded Zerbo looking up for the horse was, at
    least, 2 palms higher.
    “Well, nice to meet you Zerbo. I am Salero. I saw you for a brief moment the day a arrived but never saw you after that until now. Were you solicited and working outside?”
    “No, no, I was here but I wasn’t feeling well and was resting in my stall.” “I’m glad you feel better and decided to come out and enjoy the sunshine. By the way, I wanted to tell you that I had never seen an animal of your specie. I have seen mules, burros, camels, and of course, different breeds of horses, but I never saw anything as beautiful as you”.
    “Me beautiful?” responded Zebor with surprise.
    “Absolutely my friend. You are a work of art. You are a walking abstract painting.”
    “Well, thank you. However, to be honest, I must tell you than when I saw you coming out of the trailer, I thought you were the most beautiful and magnificent animal I’ve ever lay my eyes on.”
    “Of course, I am beautiful and magnificent, I know it and I’m very proud of that,” responded Salero with self confidence.
    “However,” he continue “ the fact that I’m beautiful doesn’t mean that you are ugly or less beautiful. You see, every creature under the sun is beautiful in their own way and in a different kind of way.”
    “Could you deny the beauty of that peacock under the shade showing off the beautiful colors of his feathers? Or, could you ignore the magnificent display of raw strength of that bull behind the fence? Look at that swam on the water; how graceful she moves, how regal her pose.”
    “However. one has to help in looking beautiful” he continued changing the tone of her voice into a paternal mode. “you can not look good walking with your head down and the tail between your legs. So, let me see you with your head up and proud, your ears straight up and your tail floating in the air.”
    Zerbo followed Salero’s suggestions in the same order and then, on his own, put a happy face and showed a wide smile.
    “That’s my boy. That’s a handsome looking zebra,” exulted Salero in a loud voice.
    “What you need now is some healthy exercise.” he continued with enthusiasm “ and that, we will do tomorrow.”
    “What kind of exercise would that be” riposted Zerbo with a hint of apprehension.
    “That, my friend, will be a good long gallop early in the morning during which you could fill your lungs with fresh air, get your legs moving, put your
    body in shape and feel invigorated.’’
    “Tomorrow,” he continued “we will wake up with the first crow of the rooster and meet right here. Is that Okay with you?”
    “Yeah, no problem. I‘ll be here” responded Zerbo.
    And with that, the two friends took off in different ways.

    1. Ahhh…I really enjoyed this part!!! Words of wisdom abound applicable to the human species as well.

  8. I am trying to understand …

    If I had written something like this … Ann would have flayed me!

    But You, my friend are special, so lets see how and why … can you explain this atrocity to all of us … no dialogue … no stream of … oh of course you are Orlando so you think you get a free pass …

    … OK now I know why you are not published!

    Keep Writing, my friend, Keep Writing, you WILL get there in 20 to 30 years after you take English 101!

    … OK … so … what do you say?

    … you wanna know who I am? That’s a good place to start … I will
    leave it up to you …

    VicThor

    1. VicThor,
      Take it easy. This is way out of line. It’s not your place to correct postings that are made on my blog. If you have nothing helpful to say, then please avoid posting. –Ann

  9. A Simple Conversation January 2014

    -Do you love me?-
    -Yes.-
    -How much?-
    -This much.-
    -That’s not enough. I want you to love me 100 times that much.-
    -That’s beyond impossible. That makes no sense. That’s way pass the saturation point after which it makes no difference how much more you add to it.-
    -Oh, you and your mind of an engineer. I don’t want you to make sense. I want, at least at this moment, you to see, feel, smell and make believe that you are in a difference world where everything is possible, fantastic, romantic and ideal.-
    -Fine, I’ll try.-
    – Fantastic! How does spring looks outside?-
    -What spring? We are in the middle of the winter.-
    -Think spring! Think spring! For heaven’s sake. How does the spring look outside?-
    -I’m sorry. Yes it is a beautiful spring day. The birds are flying around, the sky is blue, the sun is out and shinning and all the flowers are in bloom.
    -How does it smell like?-
    -The spring?-
    Yes, of course, the spring. Every season has its own smell, haven’t you noticed it?-
    -I never thought of that.-
    -Well, for a moment, think about how spring smells.-
    -Okay. I smell the flowers and the gasoline of the power mowers cutting the grass.
    – Oh, there is no sense in getting some romance into you. It is a waste of time. By the way, the ceiling needs to be painted.-
    -Yes, and I will paint it with the help of some angels and with a brush made with a piece of a cloud, drenched in a paint mixed with stardust.-
    -I’m talking real now. The ceiling needs a new real painting.-
    -Sorry. I thought we were still flying around through the fantastic and romantic world of yours.-

    A Simple Conversation January 2014

    -Do you love me?-
    -Yes.-
    -How much?-
    -This much.-
    -That’s not enough. I want you to love me 100 times that much.-
    -That’s beyond impossible. That makes no sense. That’s way pass the saturation point after which it makes no difference how much more you add to it.-
    -Oh, you and your mind of an engineer. I don’t want you to make sense. I want, at least at this moment, you to see, feel, smell and make believe that you are in a difference world where everything is possible, fantastic, romantic and ideal.-
    -Fine, I’ll try.-
    – Fantastic! How does spring looks outside?-
    -What spring? We are in the middle of the winter.-
    -Think spring! Think spring! For heaven’s sake. How does the spring look outside?-
    -I’m sorry. Yes it is a beautiful spring day. The birds are flying around, the sky is blue, the sun is out and shinning and all the flowers are in bloom.
    -How does it smell like?-
    -The spring?-
    Yes, of course, the spring. Every season has its own smell, haven’t you noticed it?-
    -I never thought of that.-
    -Well, for a moment, think about how spring smells.-
    -Okay. I smell the flowers and the gasoline of the power mowers cutting the grass.
    – Oh, there is no sense in getting some romance into you. It is a waste of time. By the way, the ceiling needs to be painted.-
    -Yes, and I will paint it with the help of some angels and with a brush made with a piece of a cloud, drenched in a paint mixed with stardust.-
    -I’m talking real now. The ceiling needs a new real painting.-
    -Sorry. I thought we were still flying around through the fantastic and romantic world of yours.-

  10. Zerbo, the zebra (part 2) January 2014

    One bright cool morning, a red pick-up truck pulling a long low-bed trailer, was approaching the main entrance of the farm bouncing on the uneven dirt road leaving behind a cloud of dust.
    The animals were familiar with this occurrence since this was the same truck that used to come at random during the week bringing some animals to the compound or leaving with others that were called to work.

    After stopping the truck closed to the house, the driver, a stout middle age man, with an unshaven face, wearing a hat too small for his head and trousers too long for his legs, stepped out and greeted the man who the animals knew as to be the top master of the farm.

    Once the salutations were over, the two men walked towards the back of the trailer and opened its door. The driver disappeared inside the trailer and a moment later he re-appeared pulling something with a rope.
    Something that was not cooperating very much in submitting to the pull.

    With great expectation and curiosity the animals roaming around, got as close as possible to the trailer.

    An instant later, at the end of the rope, out came an Arabian horse.
    All animals let out a sound of admiration by the beauty of such horse which they contemplated with delight. After exchanging comments for a while among themselves, they lost interest and then all retired to continue doing whatever they were doing, except Zerbo.

    The stallion zebra stood there admiring this magnificent, perfect horse.
    His neck, which he continually extended and recoiled into an arc, was muscular and graceful; the long, slender legs moving incessantly; the elongated stylish body covered by a film of sweat; the mane in his tail and along the top of his neck, so lustrous and abundant; the off-white color of his hide speckled with soft grey spots; the definition of the muscles on his body and the eyes, round, big and flashy. Everything was magnificent.

    Looking at that animal, Zerbo felt that his word was collapsing around him.
    He will not longer be the star of the farm; the most admired; the most distinguished. He then turned around and with his ears down, his tail between his legs and his head almost touching the ground directed himself to his stable where he wanted to stay for the rest of his life.
    (to be continued)

  11. OK, Lando, I got a problem with you …

    … Why are you not published yet?

    I would love to hear your explanation!

    … ( Lazy you say … ok … what else … lets hear it )

    Keep Writing, 😉

    VicThor

    1. Feel free to stop by. This blog is mostly about taking new writing challenges, and that can be a good way to keep on learning. Try one! –Ann

  12. I’m curious to know how the competition between Zerbo and Salerno goes. Also, I’m impressed with the uniqueness of your story.

  13. (a new story, Walt Disney style, divided in 4 parts, which I hope somebody will have the patience to read.)

    ZERBO, the Zebra. (Part 1) January 2014

    The farm was extensive and well kept. A charming white painted residential house with a red tiles roof, double glass windows and an inviting porch all around it, was located close to the main entrance. Four other large dark wooden structures that served as stables surrounded by a high sturdy mesh fence were situated far away from each other in different places of the property, leaving a spacious area of green rolling hills between them.

    One of the fenced sections, extremely restricted and confined was dedicated to felines: another was for the reptiles of all kinds, the third one kept primates and the fourth was the area for herbivores, birds, and other friendly, non-aggressive animals, some of which were allowed to come and go around the farm, with little restrictions.

    All the animals were well fed and treated with high care and attention for they were solicited for movie productions, parties, advertisement , country fairs and for whatever other appropriate sort or reasons they were needed.

    Zerbo, the stallion zebra was a resident of the fourth area, practically doing whatever he wanted to do for he was the star of the farm and one of the most solicited.

    Zerbo knew that he was an elegant and beautiful specie and he was aware that the other animals looked at him with admiration and even with envy, as in the case of Truck, the noble ass, who couldn’t understand why he, being so closed related to zebras and so similar in general appearance to Zerbo, didn’t get the captivating black and white stripes when he was born.

    The fact is that the other animals had a very good reason to admire the beauty of Zerbo. The very defined stripes on his entire body, except in the under belly, formed an intricate design and its colors were intense and glossy. Whether walking trotting or cantering, Zerbo did it with an elegant gait and pride.

    Zerbo was convinced that there was no other animal in the entire farm that could compete against his beauty and magnificence… until Salero showed up.
    To be continued.

  14. Cheryl, thank you for your nice words. After receiving a shot of steroids (not for muscles development but to reduce the swollen in my ear) by a beautiful young nurse who confessed to me that it was her first experience in administrating an injection to a real person and not to a dummy, although it could be argued that there isn’t a big difference between the two, and after taking antibiotic pills in industrial quantities and suffering a river of drops inside the ear, I started to make some progress.
    Additionally, the thought of receiving an injection by a virgin nurse in the area of medicine makes me feel much better.

    1. You may want to fake ear pain even when you’re cured; sounds like you’re loving the attention of the lovely young nurses. You devil you!!!

  15. Hello to my friends and Happy New Year to all.
    I started the New Year on the wrong foot. Got a terrible ear infection which came along unannounced at the very end of last year while I was drinking a delicious martini in order to take care of a cold that got attached to my throat and my nose with a passion I never felt from a woman.
    I’m still taking antibiotics, my ear is still swollen inside and I feel miserable.
    Monday I’ll be going to an specialist hopping for better results than what I received from my regular doctor.
    I’ll be back as soon as I get better.
    Ann, thank you for responding to my questions.
    Sayonara.

    1. I’m so sorry to hear of your ear infection. I’m SOOO looking forward to spending time here with you when you’re feeling better.

      I commend you on your post today. Even when you’re ill, you can write entertainingly.

      Take it easy, buddy.

  16. Orlando,

    Go to the top of this page and click on Blog Soup (in blue letters under the assortment of Sharpies and pencils). There you’ll find Ann’s most recent writing prompt. Your reappearance motivated me to participate. Thanks for that!!!

  17. Hi Lando,
    This main page is where I post new challenges. I posted one last night called “Blog Soup.” Your posting right here is perfectly placed since you are responding to Shaddy. She will likely find it here. When you are ready to try one of the challenges, post it under that title as a reply. I tend to post a new one on average every week or two. It varies. Enjoy!

  18. Hello my dear Cheryl aka Shaddy! Nice to hear from you also. Indeed, sometimes life takes us to places we never dreamed of nor did we know they existed. However, that’s what makes this ride we call life interesting.
    A question for you, Gully or for anyone who care to respond:
    Is this e the right page to be for reading other stories and getting involved in the group.??

    1. Ann answered your question for me. Thanks, Ann!!! Hope to spend more time here in 2014!!!

  19. Hey, Orlando. What a treat this is!! Gully directed me here. She often tugs my sleeve when one of our infamous BWW class reappears.

    I’ve been led astray from writing by the distractions of life. Perhaps, 2014, will bring both of us back to our rusty passions.

    Best wishes, Orlando. (I’m already impressed by your creativity and gusto for life apparent here).

  20. A conversation with my brain.
    “Come up brain. Wake up!”.
    “I need some good ideas of stories to put down on paper. I just re-joined the 920 writer’s group and I want to write something about anything you can elaborate”. My voice sounded excited and anxious.
    “Oh, now you want me to wake up and to hurry looking for ideas as if I were a kitchen faucet that you can open and close at will an in an instant”. responded the brain with a hint of sarcasm.
    “It doesn’t work that way, you know” he continued. “You can’t stop writing 5 years ago and then come back expecting to run me at the same speed as when we were in training goofing around with a group of marvelous writers and friends and under the tutelage of an extraordinary teacher”.
    “And furthermore” he said with anger “it is not only me who has to wake up. I have to shake millions of cells, nerves and veins to come up to speed, and that’s not ant an easy job to do for they have been dormant, getting fat, lazy and indifferent to any responsibility. So, I need some time to dust off the cobwebs and perhaps I also need some challenge from the outside to motivate us all”..

    “Okay, okay, I understand your point. Please forgive me for having been so rude and impolite. However, promise me that you will engage and work with me on this project”.
    “Of course. I promise you that I’ll do my best looking for stories to tell. But I won’t do it for you, you lazy bum. I’ll do it because I like to be goofing around with my friends at the 920 writers group, reading their stories, exchanging ideas and having fun. I truly missed them”. He concluded with a happy and vibrant voice.

  21. No wonder it has only 20k miles on it. Nice to talk with you, my friend, and a very happy new year to you.

    I am looking forward to seeing some of your writing here.

  22. Thank you both, Ann and Gullible for your nice words. I’m happy to be back/

    Yes, Gully, I still have my convertible and in pristine condition. Bought it over 6 years ago and it has 20K miles in the odometer only.
    The reason for this, is that it must be a perfect day for my wife to let me drive it with the roof down. She doesn’t drive it for, as you may remember, I told her when I bought it, that only blonde women are allowed, by law, to drive convertibles.
    So, we take the car for a ride on special days between the spring equinox and the autumnal equinox and only when the atmospheric conditions are aligned with Neptune. That is to say, that it shouldn’t be too cold or too hot.
    Neither it should be windy or with high humidity. Forget about if there is rain in the forecast or if she happens to see a thunder-bolt 500 miles from where we are..
    I don’t drive it alone since getting in and coming out of it are too much for my knees which are paying me back for the years of use and abuse I submitted them playing long hours of racket-ball and jogging.
    Wishing you both and all the others in this group a very, very Happy New Year .
    Feliz Ano Nuevo

  23. ORLANDO!!! How often have I thought of you! I hope all is well, your convertible still runs, and your Panama hat is still set at a rakish angle. Please join us here for Ann’s prompts. It’s a lot of fun and there are some fine writers here.