The Drabblecast Forums

Phenopath wrote:In the dribblequeue

YAY! I'm so excited! Do you know when it will go up? This is my first dribble.

Phenopath wrote:That was silly

I call dribble dibs for the chance to do some pirate voices, yar.

Is that a request? If so, then sure! I'd be honored.

Ugh. Definitely too much grog last night. I felt sick. I could hear men singing a shanty—with off-key voices and incorrect lyrics that made my head pound. Woozy and indignant, I couldn’t even defend myself when four rough hands dragged me from my bunk. Mate Ellis gave me a wicked grin. “Well, sailor...

Thanks. It's based on a true story. The young man who talked his way past the security guard had been stalking the young woman for two years, ever since they broke up because he raped her. He managed to track her down at her college, convinced the security guard to let him into her dorm without maki...

Wow. Evil and awesome.

Nifty!

“Hi! I’m here to see Cassie Killroy.” The young man smiled at George. “Son, I can’t let you into the dorm without a resident’s permission,” George said slowly. “Look, I’m Dave--Cassie’s boyfriend. It’s her birthday. I drove all night to surprise her. Could you just…?” The boy was handsome, dark-hair...

Thanks very much! I wasn't sure if the image (heh) would work for anyone other than me. My aunt has a photographic memory, and my mom is obsessed with family photos, has bins and bins of them. Somehow, the two ideas combined to have really weird offspring.

But--but they don't have wings!

You can find "Snow, Glass, Apples," in Gaiman's short story collection, Mask and Mirrors; or the radio production can by found on Itunes if you search for "Neil Gaiman Murder Mysteries" (it's part one of a fantastic two-part series originally released as "Two Plays for Voices" and still up for sale ...

Jeannie rummaged around impatiently, tossing unwanted items over her shoulder. Snapshots of lively family barbecues, childhood toys, and school photos flapped through the air. “Dammit, daddy, where’d you put it?” She muttered. Farther down, Jeannie began to find the pictures she wasn’t supposed to s...

Well, I'm no Scattercat.

Ha! Nice.

Niiiiiiiice.

Ha! This is brilliant. I always get frustrated when robots in media have *too* much ability to recognize the unknown/abnormal. It's just...improbable. Totally wrecks my suspension of disbelief. You just summed up my whole objection.

This is why I prefer to buy my hats new. You never know what a previous owner might have left in it.

"You know happened to Lamb Chop? She went to Puppet Hell and became the local Sisyphus. You will too if you keep singing."

"And it can be used to both scoop and spear your aliment? Brilliant! What do you call it?" The Alien cried.

"Um--a spork."

The odd thing is, it's true--if there's a clever or funny saying, people are more likely to attribute it to Mark Twain (or Oscar Wilde) than any of the other plausible wits of the world--not to mention the original speaker/writer.

Tired of the catcalls, Sue gave the next jerk to honk at her a double-bird salute. Unfortunately, her dad was the driver.