Lyttony



« Previous topicNext topic »
New topic Printable (Log in to 'subscribe' to this topic)

Lyttony of Grand Prize Winners The camel died quite suddenly on the second day, and Selena fretted sulkily and, buffing her already impeccable nails—not for the first time since the journey began—pondered snidely if this would dissolve into a vignette of minor inconveniences like all.

Lyttony of Grand Prize Winners The camel died quite suddenly on the second day, and Selena fretted sulkily and, buffing her already impeccable nails-not for the first time since the journey began-pondered snidely if this would dissolve into a vignette of minor inconveniences like all the other holidays spent with Basil. Plutarch opens his Life of Sertorius with these two sentences. It is perhaps not a matter of surprise, if in the lapse of time, which is unlimited, while fortune is continually changing her course, spontaneity should often result in the same incidents; for, if the number of elemental things is not limited, fortune has in the abundance of material a bountiful supply of sameness of results;.

AuthorMessage
Thread started 03/24/09 9:38am

The worst opening lines for a novel…ever.

http://www.bulwer-lytton....yttony.htm
Lyttony of Grand Prize Winners
The camel died quite suddenly on the second day, and Selena fretted sulkily and, buffing her already impeccable nails--not for the first time since the journey began--pondered snidely if this would dissolve into a vignette of minor inconveniences like all the other holidays spent with Basil.
--Gail Cain, San Francisco, California (1983 Winner)
The lovely woman-child Kaa was mercilessly chained to the cruel post of the warrior-chief Beast, with his barbarous tribe now stacking wood at her nubile feet, when the strong, clear voice of the poetic and heroic Handsomas roared, 'Flick your Bic, crisp that chick, and you'll feel my steel through your last meal.'
--Steven Garman, Pensacola, Florida (1984 Winner)
The countdown had stalled at T minus 69 seconds when Desiree, the first female ape to go up in space, winked at me slyly and pouted her thick, rubbery lips unmistakably--the first of many such advances during what would prove to be the longest, and most memorable, space voyage of my career.
--Martha Simpson, Glastonbury, Connecticut (1985 Winner)
The bone-chilling scream split the warm summer night in two, the first half being before the scream when it was fairly balmy and calm and pleasant for those who hadn't heard the scream at all, but not calm or balmy or even very nice for those who did hear the scream, discounting the little period of time during the actual scream itself when your ears might have been hearing it but your brain wasn't reacting yet to let you know.
--Patricia E. Presutti, Lewiston, New York (1986 Winner)
The notes blatted skyward as the sun rose over the Canada geese, feathered rumps mooning the day, webbed appendages frantically peddling unseen bicycles in their search for sustenance, driven by Nature's maxim, 'Ya wanna eat, ya gotta work,' and at last I knew Pittsburgh.
--Sheila B. Richter, Minneapolis, Minnesota (1987 Winner)
Like an expensive sports car, fine-tuned and well-built, Portia was sleek, shapely, and gorgeous, her red jumpsuit molding her body, which was as warm as the seatcovers in July, her hair as dark as new tires, her eyes flashing like bright hubcaps, and her lips as dewy as the beads of fresh rain on the hood; she was a woman driven--fueled by a single accelerant--and she needed a man, a man who wouldn't shift from his views, a man to steer her along the right road, a man like Alf Romeo.
--Rachel E. Sheeley, Williamsburg, Indiana (1988 Winner)
Professor Frobisher couldn't believe he had missed seeing it for so long--it was, after all, right there under his nose--but in all his years of research into the intricate and mysterious ways of the universe, he had never noticed that the freckles on his upper lip, just below and to the left of the nostril, partially hidden until now by a hairy mole he had just removed a week before, exactly matched the pattern of the stars in the Pleides, down to the angry red zit that had just popped up where he and his colleagues had only today discovered an exploding nova.
--Ray C. Gainey, Indianapolis, Indiana (1989 Winner)
Dolores breezed along the surface of her life like a flat stone forever skipping across smooth water, rippling reality sporadically but oblivious to it consistently, until she finally lost momentum, sank, due to an overdose of fluoride as a child which caused her to lie forever on the floor of her life as useless as an appendix and as lonely as a five-hundred-pound barbell in a steroid-free fitness center.
--Linda Vernon, Newark, California (1990 Winner)
Sultry it was and humid, but no whisper of air caused the plump, laden spears of golden grain to nod their burdened heads as they unheedingly awaited the cyclic rape of their gleaming treasure, while overhead the burning orb of luminescence ascended its ever-upward path toward a sweltering celestial apex, for although it is not in Kansas that our story takes place, it looks godawful like it.
--Judy Frazier, Lathrop, Missouri (1991 Winner)
As the newest Lady Turnpot descended into the kitchen wrapped only in her celery-green dressing gown, her creamy bosom rising and falling like a temperamental souffle, her tart mouth pursed in distaste, the sous-chef whispered to the scullery boy, 'I don't know what to make of her.'
--Laurel Fortuner, Montendre, France (1992 Winner)
She wasn't really my type, a hard-looking but untalented reporter from the local cat box liner, but the first second that the third-rate representative of the fourth estate cracked open a new fifth of old Scotch, my sixth sense said seventh heaven was as close as an eighth note from Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, so, nervous as a tenth grader drowning in eleventh-hour cramming for a physics exam, I swept her into my longing arms, and, humming 'The Twelfth of Never,' I got lucky on Friday the thirteenth.
--Wm. W. 'Buddy' Ocheltree, Port Townsend, Washington (1993 Winner)
As the fading light of a dying day filtered through the window blinds, Roger stood over his victim with a smoking .45, surprised at the serenity that filled him after pumping six slugs into the bloodless tyrant that mocked him day after day, and then he shuffled out of the office with one last look back at the shattered computer terminal lying there like a silicon armadillo left to rot on the information superhighway.
--Larry Brill, Austin, Texas (1994 Winner)
Paul Revere had just discovered that someone in Boston was a spy for the British, and when he saw the young woman believed to be the spy's girlfriend in an Italian restaurant he said to the waiter, 'Hold the spumoni--I'm going to follow the chick an' catch a Tory.'
--John L. Ashman, Houston, Texas (1995 Winner)
'Ace, watch your head!' hissed Wanda urgently, yet somehow provocatively, through red, full, sensuous lips, but he couldn't you know, since nobody can actually watch more than part of his nose or a little cheek or lips if he really tries, but he appreciated her warning.
--Janice Estey, Aspen, Colorado (1996 Winner)
The moment he laid eyes on the lifeless body of the nude socialite sprawled across the bathroom floor, Detective Leary knew she had committed suicide by grasping the cap on the tamper-proof bottle, pushing down and twisting while she kept her thumb firmly pressed against the spot the arrow pointed to, until she hit the exact spot where the tab clicks into place, allowing her to remove the cap and swallow the entire contents of the bottle, thus ending her life.
-- Artie Kalemeris, Fairfax, Virginia (1997 Winner)
The corpse exuded the irresistible aroma of a piquant, ancho chili glaze enticingly enhanced with a hint of fresh cilantro as it lay before him, coyly garnished by a garland of variegated radicchio and caramelized onions, and impishly drizzled with glistening rivulets of vintage balsamic vinegar and roasted garlic oil; yes, as he surveyed the body of the slain food critic slumped on the floor of the cozy, but nearly empty, bistro, a quick inventory of his senses told corpulent Inspector Moreau that this was, in all likelihood, an inside job.
--Bob Perry, Milton, Massachusetts (1998 Winner)
Through the gathering gloom of a late-October afternoon, along the greasy, cracked paving-stones slick from the sputum of the sky, Stanley Ruddlethorp wearily trudged up the hill from the cemetery where his wife, sister, brother, and three children were all buried, and forced open the door of his decaying house, blissfully unaware of the catastrophe that was soon to devastate his life.
--Dr. David Chuter, Kingston, Surrey, ENGLAND(1999 Winner)
The heather-encrusted Headlands, veiled in fog as thick as smoke in a crowded pub, hunched precariously over the moors, their rocky elbows slipping off land's end, their bulbous, craggy noses thrust into the thick foam of the North Sea like bearded old men falling asleep in their pints.
--Gary Dahl, Los Gatos, CA (2000 Winner)
A small assortment of astonishingly loud brass instruments raced each other lustily to the respective ends of their distinct musical choices as the gates flew open to release a torrent of tawny fur comprised of angry yapping bullets that nipped at Desdemona's ankles, causing her to reflect once again (as blood filled her sneakers and she fought her way through the panicking crowd) that the annual Running of the Pomeranians in Liechtenstein was a stupid idea.
Sera Kirk, Vancouver, BC (2001 Winner)
On reflection, Angela perceived that her relationship with Tom had always been rocky, not quite a roller-coaster ride but more like when the toilet-paper roll gets a little squashed so it hangs crooked and every time you pull some off you can hear the rest going bumpity-bumpity in its holder until you go nuts and push it back into shape, a degree of annoyance that Angela had now almost attained.
Rephah Berg, Oakland CA (2002 Winner)
They had but one last remaining night together, so they embraced each other as tightly as that two-flavor entwined string cheese that is orange and yellowish-white, the orange probably being a bland Cheddar and the white . . . Mozzarella, although it could possibly be Provolone or just plain American, as it really doesn't taste distinctly dissimilar from the orange, yet they would have you believe it does by coloring it differently.
Mariann Simms, Wetumpka, AL (2003 Winner)
She resolved to end the love affair with Ramon tonight . . . summarily, like Martha Stewart ripping the sand vein out of a shrimp's tail . . . though the term 'love affair' now struck her as a ridiculous euphemism . . . not unlike 'sand vein,' which is after all an intestine, not a vein . . . and that tarry substance inside certainly isn't sand . . . and that brought her back to Ramon.
Dave Zobel, Manhattan Beach, CA (2004 Winner)
As he stared at her ample bosom, he daydreamed of the dual Stromberg carburetors in his vintage Triumph Spitfire, highly functional yet pleasingly formed, perched prominently on top of the intake manifold, aching for experienced hands, the small knurled caps of the oil dampeners begging to be inspected and adjusted as described in chapter seven of the shop manual.
Dan McKay, Fargo, ND (2005 Winner)
Detective Bart Lasiter was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you've had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean.
Jim Guigli, Carmichael, CA (2006 Winner)
Gerald began--but was interrupted by a piercing whistle which cost him ten percent of his hearing permanently, as it did everyone else in a ten-mile radius of the eruption, not that it mattered much because for them 'permanently' meant the next ten minutes or so until buried by searing lava or suffocated by choking ash--to pee.
Jim Gleeson, Madison, WI (2007 Winner)
It's a mess, ain't it, sheriff?
If it ain't, it'll do till the mess gets here
OWB
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #1 posted 03/24/09 9:50am
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #2 posted 03/24/09 9:53am

Lytton Strachey

JustErin said:


thought i wouldn't get any responses to this
It's a mess, ain't it, sheriff?
If it ain't, it'll do till the mess gets here
OWB
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #3 posted 03/24/09 10:18am
How about this one from John Varley and his novel Steel Beach
'In five years the penis will be obsolete' said the salesman.
He paused to let this planet shattering information sink into our amazed brains.
Personally i didnt know how many more wonders i could absorb berfore lunch.
'With the right promotional campaign' he went on breathlessly 'it could be as
little as two years'
This is actually a great opening line but hey whenever am i gonna get the chance to post this on the org again
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #4 posted 03/24/09 11:01am
'..and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean.'
priceless lines. for a minute i thought they were of actual novels but
i gather this is some sort of contest where people just come up with a
line, right?
anyway, it's hilarious. although the very first one is still my fav. if
i read that i'd want to read the entire book, it's amazingly horrible.
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #5 posted 03/24/09 11:36am
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #6 posted 03/24/09 5:15pm
LMFAO! These were all from PUBLISHED novels?
Dang, there's hope for me yet! Where's my typewriter?!?
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #7 posted 03/24/09 5:30pm
'It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.'
'With a curvaceous figure that Venus would have envied, a tanned unblemished oval face framed with lustrous thick brown hair, deep azure-blue eyes fringed with long black lashes, perfect teeth that vied for competition, and a small straight nose, Marilee had a beauty that defied description.'
'The sun oozed over the horizon, shoved aside darkness, crept along the greensward, and, with sickly fingers, pushed through the castle window, revealing the pillaged princess, hand at throat, crown asunder, gaping in frenzied horror at the sated, sodden amphibian lying beside her, disbelieving the magnitude of the toad's deception, screaming madly, 'You lied!'
'Stanley looked quite bored and somewhat detached, but then penguins often do.'
'Like an overripe beefsteak tomato rimmed with cottage cheese, the corpulent remains of Santa Claus lay dead on the hotel floor.'
'Stanislaus Smedley, a man always on the cutting edge of narcissism, was about to give his body and soul to a back alley sex-change surgeon to become the woman he loved.'
'As a scientist, Throckmorton knew that if he were ever to break wind in the echo chamber, he would never hear the end of it.'

I have a firm grip on reality...Maybe just not this reality

- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #8 posted 03/24/09 5:36pm
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #9 posted 03/24/09 5:38pm

PANDURITO said:


I have a firm grip on reality...Maybe just not this reality

- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #10 posted 03/24/09 6:34pm
The bone-chilling scream split the warm summer night in two, the first half being before the scream when it was fairly balmy and calm and pleasant for those who hadn't heard the scream at all, but not calm or balmy or even very nice for those who did hear the scream, discounting the little period of time during the actual scream itself when your ears might have been hearing it but your brain wasn't reacting yet to let you know.
--Patricia E. Presutti, Lewiston, New York (1986 Winner)

- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #11 posted 05/05/09 7:17am
I read that article long before you bothered to post this thread, but those lines NEVER get old. OMG
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #12 posted 05/05/09 11:59am

RodeoSchro said:

LMFAO! These were all from PUBLISHED novels?
Dang, there's hope for me yet! Where's my typewriter?!?

I know, eh?!
I should get going on that grand, great novel. If this delightful stuff can get a publisher, surely anything I could write can.
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
Reply #13 posted 05/05/09 12:02pm
The lovely woman-child Kaa was mercilessly chained to the cruel post of the warrior-chief Beast, with his barbarous tribe now stacking wood at her nubile feet, when the strong, clear voice of the poetic and heroic Handsomas roared, 'Flick your Bic, crisp that chick, and you'll feel my steel through your last meal.'
--Steven Garman, Pensacola, Florida (1984 Winner)
I mean,... just
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator
New topic Printable (Log in to 'subscribe' to this topic)
Free Republic
Browse · Search
General/Chat
Topics · Post Article
The Morels Of The Story (Mushroom Hunters Unite!)
Wisconsin State Journal ^ | April 5, 2008 | Liza Wallner

Posted on 04/07/2008 5:41:44 AM PDT by Diana in Wisconsin

Erupting from the warm moist earth of Wisconsin spring in late April/early May, the Holy Grail of fungi, the morel, appears like clockwork to the delight of amateur mushroom hunters (aka mycologists) throughout the woodlands of the Midwest for just a few short weeks.

Convoluted like the hemispheres of the human brain, morels bear a resemblance to few other mushrooms. The conically shaped caps and hollow interiors of these fungi make identification relatively simple after first-time, rudimentary instruction by a seasoned expert.

Morels are the fruiting body of a pervasive underground network of webby mycelium. Their sole function is the distribution of millions of spores from within the pits of their spongy-looking caps. Morels themselves feed directly from the roots of dead/dying trees such as apple, white ash, poplar and elm. There are three primary species of morels found in Wisconsin.

The first to 'pop ' in spring are the black morels (Morchella angusticeps), the second are the gray morels (Morchella esculenta), and the last to arrive nearly two weeks later are the giant yellows (Morchella crassipes).

The impetus for the fruiting cycle is still unknown. Could it be changes in moisture levels due to spring precipitation? Warming of soil temperatures? Or perhaps fluctuations in soil nitrogen levels from fires or lightening strikes from the previous year? Experts still trying to understand these mysteries have yet to invent a reliable method of cultivation that would allow the mass production of morels for commercial distribution. This makes collecting them in the wild all the more exciting.

Midwestern morels have a distinctively rich, earthy and woodsy taste that some refer to as 'meaty ' or 'nutty '. Mushrooms from Wisconsin woodlands are highly prized and touted as the tastiest of all morels. Their intense flavor far surpasses grocery store buttons and morel rarity makes them easily command prices in the neighborhood of $25-50 per pound in local markets. High-end restaurants offer special morel tasting menus during their short three-week season. While these dinners are not inexpensive they seem worth the lofty price for the adventurous eater unwilling to muck about in the woods to find their own supply.

Hunt morels with care. Choose pesticide-free woodlands and be mindful of adjacent farms that may produce chemical runoff. Consume only thoroughly cooked fungi in small quantities until you can ascertain how your body metabolizes these unique edibles. Never eat any mushroom unless you have positively identified it. When in doubt the rule is to throw it out. No exceptions! Also, always obtain permission before hunting on private lands and contact the DNR for current hunting regulations in your area regarding state owned properties and parks. Collecting morels is legal in many of our state parks so long as they are for personal consumption and not resale.

Morel mania overcame me after I attended a seemingly innocuous lecture on a whim at a local library in January of 2007. The information I gathered there helped me make my very first morel finds later that spring. After that I was hooked. My subsequent infection with 'morel fever ' was pretty much a done deal. The insidious condition begins with bragging about the hunter 's own bramble-scratched legs. I had thoroughly shredded my legs during my '2007 quest ' and was quite proud to explain this to just about anyone.

Soon after my successful 2- to 3-week hunt ended I had the strange desire to purchase mushroom identification guides. I attended more lectures and finally I joined the Wisconsin Mycological Society to commune with other 'shroom people. ' ' I went on numerous WMS guided hunts (free for members) and studied and learned from the experts. I began to notice every suitable tree wondering to myself if it might produce the 'motherlode ' of morels beneath it the following spring. My fever turned to frenzy with the purchase of new hiking boots and a trekking GPS.

Could excess La Ni a moisture, a weather system appearing at approximate 10-year intervals, assist in the production of a bumper crop of 2008 morels? Many such theories and far-fetched hopes continue to propel me toward the inevitable rush of possibilities for a bountiful 2008 morel gathering season.

My recent decision to drive three hours to attend the Illinois State Morel Hunting Championship in Henry, Ill., this May further illustrates how interest quickly turns into a growing obsession. Yellow school buses will ferry registrants to a 'secret location ' for a two-hour, forested romp of fungi-scouring excitement. The hunt competition is followed by an award ceremony, morel auction and a commemorative plaque presentation to the lucky someone who finds the highest number of morels. The best part of the Illinois hunt? Entrants get to keep all of the morels they find!

Lyttonnet

And so another morel season is poised to begin. Happy hunting and gourmet eating to all of us who embrace the morel majority!

Contact Liza Wallner through features@madison.com

ONLINE INFO

Illinois Morel Hunting Championship May 2-4: www.ilmorelhunt.org/

Muscoda Wisconsin Morel Festival May 16-18: www.muscoda.com/event_morels_08.html

Wisconsin Mycological Society: www.wisconsinmycologicalsociety.org Dues: $20 annually.

DNR Web site in Wisconsin: www.dnr.state.wi.us/

Are morels popping in your area of Wisconsin? www.morels.com/wisconsin/guestbook.html

Want to try your hand at growing your own mushrooms? www.fieldforest.net

BOOKS

'Find the Tree Find the Morel' by Jason Edge, 2003: www.morelmasters.com ($9.95 plus shipping).

'Morels' by Michael Kuo, 2005: www.mushroomexpert.com ($27.99 plus shipping).

ON THE HUNT

According to the DNR, collecting fungi is legal for personal use and in small quantities (not resale) in many state parks. Among those are Devil's Lake State Park in Baraboo, (608) 356-8301, and Blue Mound State Park in Blue Mounds, (608) 935-2315. More Madison area morel hunting hot spots can be found at:

• http://dnr.wi.gov/org/land/parks/specific/bluemound/ or 608-437-5711

• http://dnr.wi.gov/org/land/parks/specific/devilslake/ or 608-356-8301

TOPICS:Business/Economy; Food; Local News
KEYWORDS:Navigation: use the links below to view more comments.
first1-20, 21-28nextlast
1posted on 04/07/2008 5:41:44 AM PDTby Diana in Wisconsin

2posted on 04/07/2008 5:42:30 AM PDTby Diana in Wisconsin(Save The Earth. It's The Only Planet With Chocolate.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies]
3posted on 04/07/2008 5:43:06 AM PDTby Diana in Wisconsin(Save The Earth. It's The Only Planet With Chocolate.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 2 | View Replies]

I was out this weekend in southern Indiana looking for morels. Didn’t find any. I think it was a bit too wet and too early and maybe not warm enough yet. But they are within days of sprouting.


4posted on 04/07/2008 5:45:59 AM PDTby caver(Yes, I did crawl out of a hole in the ground.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies]

I’ve always wondered what them things looked like...


5posted on 04/07/2008 5:48:30 AM PDTby stefanbatory
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 3 | View Replies]
ping-a-roo

Gluttony Synonym

I didn't know you were a decendant of mushrooms!

6posted on 04/07/2008 5:49:02 AM PDTby theDentist(Qwerty ergo typo : I type, therefore I misspelll.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 2 | View Replies]

MMMM! Dipped in egg, rolled in flour, fried in butter, few things better.

Lytton
7posted on 04/07/2008 6:16:27 AM PDTby knittnmom(...surrounded by reality!)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies]

I just saw an episode of “Cash and Treasures” that featured Morel mushroom hunters. I’ve never eaten one, but everyone on the show was raving about them.


8posted on 04/07/2008 6:49:03 AM PDTby Born Conservative(Chronic Positivity - http://jsher.livejournal.com/)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies]

The flavor has been described as eating the most tender, flavorful slice of beef you’ve ever had.

I love them. They are a rare treat, but this might be an exceptionally good spring for them due to our massive amounts of snow this past winter. :)


9posted on 04/07/2008 7:01:24 AM PDTby Diana in Wisconsin(Save The Earth. It's The Only Planet With Chocolate.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 8 | View Replies]

FunGuy Ping.

10posted on 04/07/2008 7:04:36 AM PDTby martin_fierro(< |:)~)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies]
Morel mania overcame me too! I haven't had the pleasure of the Wisconsin ones--though I'll take Liza Wallner's word for it that they're outtathisworld--but the ones in northern California are some of the best things I've ever eaten. When they come out (you can get 'em in some of the grocery stores) I can't get enough. Man! Those things are good!

Something else that's mighty good--available in Calif. in season--is fresh wild chantarelles!

I'm told that wild morels grow in the South too. I don't know if they're available in grocery stores or not--but,if not, they oughtta be!

Pass the morels, and pour me another glass of Rosenblum Cellars, Zinfandel Reserve, Monte Rosso Vinyard, Sonoma Valley 2005.

Lyttony
11posted on 04/07/2008 7:12:09 AM PDTby Savage Beast('History is not just cruel. It is witty.' ~Charles Krauthammer)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 2 | View Replies]
Say, Diana. Send me a batch of those Wisconsin morels. (Include some cheese while you're at it.)
(Save The Earth. It's The Only Planet With Chocolate, Morels, and Wine.)
(At least that we know of)

12posted on 04/07/2008 7:16:38 AM PDTby Savage Beast('History is not just cruel. It is witty.' ~Charles Krauthammer)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 3 | View Replies]

LOL!

My Uncle lived in CA for many years. Whenever any of us would fly out to visit, our “carry on luggage” was a cooler full of Wisconsin cheese for him.


13posted on 04/07/2008 7:38:36 AM PDTby Diana in Wisconsin(Save The Earth. It's The Only Planet With Chocolate.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 12 | View Replies]
You owe me a keyboard. I just drooled all over mine.
Lyttony
14posted on 04/07/2008 8:40:36 AM PDTby KarlInOhio(Rattenschadenfreude: joy at a Democrat's pain, especially Hillary's pain caused by Obama.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 2 | View Replies]

Ahhhh...it is the only time of the year I can say “Eat Me!” without crossing the line into incivility...

Or can I?


15posted on 04/07/2008 8:51:25 AM PDTby rlmorel(Liberals: If the Truth would help them, they would use it.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies]

Thanks for the ping!

Didn’t know my name is the essence of “kept in the dark and fed...”?


16posted on 04/07/2008 8:53:33 AM PDTby rlmorel(Liberals: If the Truth would help them, they would use it.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 6 | View Replies]

I love to hunt mushrooms. Getting out in the woods after a long winter stuck indoors, the promise of Spring in everything sprouting new, not an insect to be found..

The most I’ve ever seen in one place was 3 bushels, and that was somebody selling them on the roadside. The most I’ve ever found in one outing was about 5 gallons.


17posted on 04/07/2008 9:05:09 AM PDTby IamConservative(Only two have offered to die for a stranger; Jesus Christ and the American Soldier)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies]

“Erupting from the warm moist earth of Wisconsin spring in late April/early May, the Holy Grail of fungi, the morel, appears like clockwork....”

Wow, what an opening sentence. I think it may be a candidate here:


18posted on 04/07/2008 9:15:51 AM PDTby alarm rider('Difficile est saturam non scibere' -- it's difficult not to write satire.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies]

Are you a friend of Patton’s?

Patton! Check out that link, LOL!


19posted on 04/07/2008 10:09:20 AM PDTby Diana in Wisconsin(Save The Earth. It's The Only Planet With Chocolate.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 18 | View Replies]

I just thought you enjoyed that peculiar ambiance. :)


20posted on 04/07/2008 10:59:29 AM PDTby theDentist(Qwerty ergo typo : I type, therefore I misspelll.)
[Post Reply | Private Reply | To 16 | View Replies]
Navigation: use the links below to view more comments.
first1-20, 21-28nextlast

Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.

Free Republic
Browse · Search
General/Chat
Topics · Post Article
FreeRepublic.com is powered by software copyright 2000-2008 John Robinson