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Wk 16
Jul 29, 2020 0:37:43 GMT
Post by carol on Jul 29, 2020 0:37:43 GMT
[Carol stares at Rockefeller, and she taps her left foot, and she tightens her lips. She grabs up the capital she'd been examining and holds it to her breasts]
Looked over Heather Pagano's capital. Did not like it.
[She stands and she walks over to the Porthole. She shoves the capital out the window, watches as it flits and floats off on the wilds of the deluge]
S'been Portholed, cousins.
[Carol strolls to the tiles. She does a dance step, and she grabs up a capital off the tiles]
Ok. So, I found a fresh capital on my knee today. We need more desks in this here stuffy, hot haunted disco. Boligard -
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Wk 16
Jul 29, 2020 0:44:31 GMT
Post by doomey on Jul 29, 2020 0:44:31 GMT
[doomey is squatted down behind the cherrywood, trying to rebuild the pilot chair that Bulldust ass-broke. he's got a pall mall clamped betwixt his lips, and it bobs up and down as he speaks]
yes, princess?
[he places the tip of the bit of the Dewalt drill into the screw and he pulls the trigger]
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Wk 16
Jul 29, 2020 0:49:45 GMT
Post by carol on Jul 29, 2020 0:49:45 GMT
[Carol grabs up the capital and she struts over to the cherrywood]
Cousin, let's check out this capital. Let me use your desktop. It's so nice. Too bad that fucking asshole bull had to come in here and break your chair. I mean, who the fuck does that?
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Wk 16
Jul 29, 2020 0:57:37 GMT
Post by doomey on Jul 29, 2020 0:57:37 GMT
[doomey gets up off his knees. he shucks the battery off the drill and shoves it into the charger like a gunslinger. he lays the drill down on the desktop. he inhales, takes up the cigarette betwixt his first and middle finger and unplugs it from his lips, and he exhales]
fuck yeah, girl. s'been a year since i examined a capital. spread it.
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Wk 16
Jul 29, 2020 1:01:18 GMT
Post by carol on Jul 29, 2020 1:01:18 GMT
Yes!
[Carol spreads the capital out on the desktop of the cherrywood. She swivels her hips, plants her fists on them and looks down on the capital]
So what we have before us is a capital crafted by Thomas Healy. S'called Horseplay.
[She and Doomey lean in, start their examination]
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Wk 16
Jul 29, 2020 1:17:27 GMT
Post by Diamond Dave on Jul 29, 2020 1:17:27 GMT
[David Lee Roth shoves his ass off the wall beside the wardrobe and stumbles over to the cherrywood. He plants his palms on the desktop, snarls]
Okay, listen to me. Listen to me. We must make certain this capital is like absolute, right?
[And he's laughing his David Lee Roth laugh which might take a couple minutes. Wow, he's really laughing his ass off. And quizzically he's laughing at nothing funny, but damn it, that's what he does]
I mean, it must be cosmic, right? Cousins?
[He looks from Carol to Boligard, nodding his head affirmative]
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Wk 16
Jul 29, 2020 1:21:23 GMT
Post by carol on Jul 29, 2020 1:21:23 GMT
[Carol sneaks out her sneak-a-toke and gives it some fire from her bic]
Absolutely, David.
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Wk 16
Jul 29, 2020 1:25:02 GMT
Post by doomey on Jul 29, 2020 1:25:02 GMT
[doomey shoves the butt of the pall mall into the gigantic triangular ashtray that sits upstage left. he looks down at the capital]
everybody remain fucking calm. we are about to dive into a fresh escape hatch. right?
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Wk 16
Jul 30, 2020 0:41:15 GMT
Post by carol on Jul 30, 2020 0:41:15 GMT
[Carol steps back from the cherrywood]
Okay, wow. This is subpar, right? There's no electric style, and there's plenty of god awful dialogue. Why would someone submit something this awful?
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Wk 16
Jul 30, 2020 0:54:32 GMT
Post by doomey on Jul 30, 2020 0:54:32 GMT
[doomey eyes the capital spread out on the desktop of the cherrywood. he taps out a pall mall, shoves it betwixt his lips and swan vestas it to life]
girlfriend, VCs do not submit stuff they hate. they submit capital they think will sink ships, savvy? film makers make movies they think will win Oscars. But, yeah, this capital will not be revealed in the pages of TQR any fucking time soon. Not sure if the VC is from like deep Mexico, or maybe he/she came from a different planet.
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Wk 16
Jul 30, 2020 1:05:33 GMT
Post by Diamond Dave on Jul 30, 2020 1:05:33 GMT
[Dave leers down on the capital, tapping his foot. He makes a decision]
Okay, yeah. This is bad. I'm thinking I should submit some of my capital. It's wild, man. But, yeah. We are shoving Thomas Healy's Horseplay out the Porthole.
[He looks over at at the Porthole, all the way across the Floor. He sighs. He gets to his feet, and he walks the capital over to the Porthole and he delivers it, shoves it out into the deluge]
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Wk 16
Jul 30, 2020 18:31:31 GMT
Post by rockefeller on Jul 30, 2020 18:31:31 GMT
Excuse me. Getting a little crowded in here. Hard to social distance. Maybe The Bull should've crushed more than furniture.
incubus
NOUN
a male demon believed to have sexual intercourse with sleeping women.
So naturally I had high expectations for this one, which almost never bodes well. But even given my usually very low expectations, with its excessive soul fiddling and overabundant unicorn-esque fantasy tropes, I'd probably have passed. Also, no similes. Not one. How can you write borderline YA magical-unrealism without a single simile? Kind of light metaphorically, too, as far as I could discern anyway. But even worse: no sex! How can you write about an incubus with no sex scene? Let me skim again... Nope. Nada. Just to make triple sure, let me search for the word "breast." It is impossible to write a sex scene in this genre without a breast. Nope. No breast. Case closed.
[Rocks leads the TQR unicorn from its magic stall (or is it just The Bull in drag?), spikes the twenty odd pages onto its nose horn, slaps it on the ass, whereupon it leaps through the porthole into the deluge, probably never to return.]
Apologies to the VC for this inadequate and unfair review. A lot of subbing is just dumb luck. For example, if Carol had been assigned this cap, she'd probably have been reduced to a weeping puddle of womanhood. Diamond Dave might've done a back flip. Or at least tried. Doomey would've eaten some hankies or whatever. But you got me. Babe.
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Wk 16
Aug 1, 2020 2:18:42 GMT
Post by bulldust on Aug 1, 2020 2:18:42 GMT
Nope, wasn't me.
Moo.
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Wk 16
Aug 6, 2020 19:34:14 GMT
Post by rockefeller on Aug 6, 2020 19:34:14 GMT
Hmm... maybe Bessie then? She still around?
Tough call, this Rosa cap. Didn't really pass the sticks-in-my-head test. But then I'm watching The Sopranos for the third time and still don't know who's at the door or about to get sucker punched or whacked or whatever. I find it takes about five years to watch a series again for the first time, maybe less now. But I read Rosa's short-ish story just a few days ago, and all I really remember is that George Washington had dentures made using some of his slaves' teeth. And I only remember that because I Bing-checked. (For reasons that'd probably sound nutty if I tried to express them, I've stopped using Google search.) And, apparently, it's true, George did. Paid good money for them (even though he probably could've just had them yanked for free) too. Buying folk's teeth back then was a fairly common practice. Dentist's even advertised for them. So it's probably good that organ transplant technology was still a couple centuries off.
Where was I? Sorry. Biden moment.
I also remember the 1st person narrator teaching his homeroom class via social media, which I thought was cool, and that I read all 8000 or so words without once having to skim, which is pretty rare for me nowadays. I seem to recall it as kind of meandering from place to place, person to person, point to point, as if written by an intelligent, knowledgeable wordsmith in maybe two to five pharmaceutically inspired sessions.
[Rocks holds the heavy stack of foolscap out to Doomey who just shakes his head without looking up or even giving him the finger. Covid has everyone in a funk.]
Okay then, my call. I hate portholing a piece just because I think it'd die in the Terminal. I mean, I'm just here to pass along the maybes, not final judgement. Nonetheless...
[Rocks shuffles over to the open Porthole and slowly—nay, reluctantly—reaches with each page into the deluge as if to mutter, 'Wrest this too from my hand, cruel wind.']
Sometimes I hate myself.
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