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Corrupt A Wish
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Bill Oakes
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Sep-15-2006 02:30
This is a very simple and fun game. The first person makes a wish, and each following person finds some way to corrupt the wish and then makes a new wish. For example:
Person 1. I wish I had a dog
Person 2. You have a dog, but it dies the day after you get it
I wish I had a muffin
Person 3: You get a muffin, but you drop it and have to throw it away.
And so on.
Your firt wish to corrupt is this:
I wish I had a new car.
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Replies |
luc pfeiffer
Red-Nosed
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May-10-2009 13:17
And now she stole the french toast. Thanks guys...
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Sara Lou
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May-13-2009 21:06
Ahhhhh........
Finally. It's been two weeks and Pirate Kitty hasn't stolen a thing. Speaking of, you've hardly seen hide nor hair of her...
This brings about a search. For three months you search for the kitty, and FINALLY, at Christmas, you get a postcard:
Mums and Pops; no worries. Some of the boys dropped by and asked me to go lootin' in the Carribbean with them. I'll be back for next Christmas. Maybe the next, I'm pretty good at this lootin'.
Much love,
Pirate Kitty
I wish I had the guts to try out for show choir.
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luc pfeiffer
Red-Nosed
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May-17-2009 23:47
Guess what? You find the guts to try out for show choir. Unfortunately for you, the new season of American Idol is having its try-outs in the same building and everyone and his brother is flocking there for a miniscule chance at stardom. No kidding, all 100,000 of them. In all the chaos caused by ninety-nine thousand nine hundred seventy-four questionable or downright bad wannabe divas, you get the rooms mixed up and end up, you guessed it, auditioning for that Simon guy. Too bad that he actually likes your voice and passes you up the ladder along with the other 26.
You make it all the way through to the finals in Las Vegas. Legions of fans phone in for you and you outstrip the progress of all previous contestants, even that Sanjaya guy (hope i spelled that right). The difference is, you don't actually put cracks in glass and make people cringe every time you belt one out. Unfortunately, because you are so nice, the tabloids can find absolutely no dirt on you, although they do have a fun time trying to find it. No luck. So, they decide to embark on a campaign to bring that Sanjaya guy back. After all, they were able to find LOTS on him last time.
The final indignity is that your screaming public actually welcomes him back with open arms and your vote count drops to one (your mother). Even your siblings vote for the other guy. Although you did get to see an eyeful in Vegas, they decide that you get to get shipped home.
You arrive to find that the show choir would be THRILLED to take you except for one small detail. The show finished three weeks ago and the next won't open their auditions until the middle of July. So now you have a whole two months to gird up that courage, again. And practice your trills.
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luc pfeiffer
Red-Nosed
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May-17-2009 23:49
I wish for a new place to put my washer and dryer. They just don't fit in the closet in the new house.
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Clint Forthwright
Old Shoe
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May-19-2009 15:45
You hire a contractor to build an extension to the house to fit your washer and dryer. While he's working on it, you have to run an errand. When you get back, the contractor is gone, so is the washer and dryer, and you're stuck with the big openning in your wall.
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Clint Forthwright
Old Shoe
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May-19-2009 15:47
I wish I knew what I wanted to do with my life outside of solving murders.
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luc pfeiffer
Red-Nosed
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May-23-2009 19:08
You stare and stare at the Wishing Pool, hoping that inspiration will come and help you decide what to do with your life besides solving murders. Pennies, dimes, quarters, even Susan B. Anthony's haven't worked either. Will direction EVER come?
Suddenly, the Fairy Godmother comes along and finds you clueless. "What?" she exclaims. "You want to do something with your life besides solving murders??! Have I got a deal for you!" One tap of the wand, and whadda ya know, you find yourself decked out with your very own pink tutu and wand, flitting from place to place granting wishes to everyone under the sun (including Crunch Patty). The Fairy Godmother enjoys a truly deserved vacation lasting for the rest of your life. Too bad there's no genie's lamp to rub and get out of this one.
I wish this whole week was over and I didn't have to do one final move. I'd much rather be on the beach, sipping Mai Tais. Oh Clint, got one for ya!
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Honey Op
Nomad
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May-24-2009 18:36
That's so sweet! You wished for Clint to be on a beach somewhere sipping Mai Tais! Because of your kindheartedness not only are you going to have the joy of the final move but you also get to do all of Clint's work for the week. Lucky you! What a good friend you are.
I wish that I had an aardvark named lintball who would recite naughty limmericks whenever I'm down.
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Whyme?
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Jun-10-2009 15:54
A moderator doesbt delete the post but instead I do....muhahahahahahaha HA! Just kidding
I wish I had a magical pony named Charlie
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luc pfeiffer
Red-Nosed
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Jun-14-2009 14:28
To Honey Op:
Surprise! You open your clothes dryer and discover that the kids have stashed their latest pet there, because Mom won't find it there, of course. After telling the kids to stash their pet under the bed next time, you extract the aardvark and dub him with a suitable name -- What else? Lintball! You set him to work on the fireant hill you found next to the mailbox and in return you discover that Lintball actually likes hanging around your place. Although, he is less enthusiastic about being around your kids until they start sneaking him brownies. A couple of days later, you are having a bad day and take refuge on your porch, watching Lintball devour the little red buggers from hell. To your surprise, Lintball comes over to the first step, looks up at you and begins reciting a limerick made up just for you:
The maid was a-bluster, around with a duster,
Was really a-fluster a-dusting a bust.
But when she had dusted,
The bust it was busted;
The bust, it was dust - that was all.
(appropriated from http://www.ebearing.com/break/limericks.htm)
You are just thrilled that not only does someone appreciate you enough to recite limericks to you, but that someone is an aardvark that can TALK!
Unfortunately, your kids find out about your marvelous new pet's skill and take him to school for show and tell. The teacher calls the authorities to report an aardvark that seems to have weird vocalizations at random intervals. Lintball is transported to a zoo, only to disappear into a research lab and never be seen again. You are crushed, but every so often a zoo guy will come on one of the late night talk shows and recite limericks that could only have come from your aardvark. Lintball lives!
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