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Each Move Must Consist Of Precisely Eight Words
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Just as it says on the tin. What happens in the game may be debated in the game: perhaps it'll be a conversation, perhaps a word-limited reprise of various games we play, or whatever.
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Has it got back up again yet, Rosie?
I asked it nicely and up it leapt.
Would that everything rose so readily these days.
With the exception of ground water, of course. not a sentence....
Not a sentence, but a grammatically correct retort.
Now we are in March; how time flies.
Now we are in March there is frost.
What's for dinner tonight? I have no idea.
I'll be having fish from Barton-on-Humber.
I had fish from Ikea. Flat packed flatfish.
A screwdriver rather than a knife and fork?
FOG! What say you about the fog, Rosie?
Fog here stops planes, newspapers and the mail.
The Clean Air Act (1956) has ruined fogs.
Back in the mists of time. Remember then?
The last move was a week ago. Blimey.
Since then I've been to England and back.
I've been to Oxfordshire and back many times.
Isn't Oxfordshire at the bottom of your garden?
A little further. Two miles down the lane.
It's cruel that Berkshire is now so truncated.
True, "Berks" is ugly; it needs its "shire".
I'm definitely in the "shire" part. Hobbits ahoy!
Lost most of itself to Oxfordshire, I meant.
Just the Vale of the White Horse, really.
I used to live in Wiltshire, next county.
So did I. In 1997-1998. Happy days. *sigh*
I'm still in Wiltshire. Sometimes, however, I move.
Some of my children are true Moonrakers, consequently.
I've eaten my own weight in strawberries today.
Is that a, er, very large quantity, pen?
Several acre's worth, so you could say so.
It is my daughter's and son's birthday today.
Twins? Or by coincidence exactly N years apart?
The latter. A bone of contention ever more.
I have nothing useful to say right now.
At least you prevented another boring monologue, Phil.
Easter is nearly upon us. Lovely chocolate eggs.
Mmm! yes, but school hall closed- no Band.
"Four days off" makes me a happy bunny
'Five days off in England' - I'm happier still.
My four will be in England too, pen.
Rosie and I have every day off - retired!
Easter Sunday may well have some shitty weather.
I might mow the cricket pitch on Saturday.
Good Friday. So much to do. More tea.
Still waiting for a call back. Freaking out.
They emailed instead, and the news was good. =)
Farmer is mowing cricket pitch. Four hours saved!
I bet Phil's ruddy grass has grown again.
I noted such growth with disappointment last evening.
We don't have lawn. I dust the gravel.
I never water the grass - makes it grow.
Juxtapose - nice :) My garden has a wooden floor.
Ten days' growth. Still not mowed the lawn.
[Phil] About time you had a shave though.
Well, another Bank Holiday but not for penelope.
Ah, we had Liberation Day instead. Day off.
Is it Libation Day for the boozy Dutch?
Are the Dutch bigger tipplers than other Europeans?
Traditionally, it is what gives them Dutch Courage.
The moon has risen above the trees yonder.
Nice. I watched stars and bats last night.
Stars and Bats? Is that a reality show?
Hot. 25 in the grounds of Plas Huws.
Truck fire in motorway tunnel on route home.
Bugger Bugger Bugger Bugger Bugger Bugger Bugger Bugger
Got stuck behind tractor. Eight minute commute today.
It took me two hours to drive home.
Last night, only took 1 hour 10 mins
Driving to work this morning: 25 mins. Gutted.
Six minutes almost every day. Including this one.
What is this "work" of which everyone speaks?
I have this thing that is called "school."
I have this horrible thing called 'being workshy'
Another eight words for Friday? Can't be bothered.
First and last day at work this week.
I have started a new game at MCiOS
It's work themed, lest that seem a non-sequitur.
Catching the Blighty-bound ferry tomorrow evening, hurrah hurrah!
Let us all tap our barometers and smile.
Can we still do the tapping smile, Rosie?
Alas no. Tapped mine and broke the glass.
Hidden textLiterally so. There must have been some stress or crack in it before.
I meant metaphorically. I'm all weekend in Zeeland.
Come on England. Three more wickets this afternoon.
England fail - football, rugby, cricket bloody useless, bah!
Why waste time watching? Get outside! Summer!
Get inside! Rain! Bring the washing in quick!
I'm a year older than a week ago.
A year in a week! That's time-lapse, pen. Appy burfdy.
Little pleasure in eight words: beer and crisps.
I mean 'small pleasure'. That meant the opposite.
Beer and crisps, beer and crisps. Beer. Crisps.
I think I'm really ready for a holiday.
Playing cricket on a Tuesday afternoon, in sunshine.
[Phil] Do you still have a job? Nights?
[pen] Yes I do. It's rather flexible though.
Are we running out of eight words? Sad.
Novel octets are
Extraordinarily
Hard to keep going.
I disagree, sir; I find them quite easy.
Blimey! Is this still going. I am amazed.
I've finished making my telescope, the Mk II.
Can you see the pub from there, Rosie?
I'm afraid light travels in boringly straight lines.
Put a black hole near the pub then.
I want to get home again, you know.
Shit or get off the pot. Any more?
Or shall we call it a day now?
That's most unladylike - did you mean the po?
Feminism.
Is that a typo (or 'typot') Rosie?
Kids sit on the pot, adults the po.
There's a fabulous shaggy-dog story about a pisspot.
Unfortunately there are only eight words available, pen.
It starts with a down-at-heel adder, I remember.
Who starts to do much better in life
It sounds like the cue for a limerick
Hang on, you don't know how it ends.
And one of the adder's longstanding friends boasts
that he's known him for a long time.
More details in the next exciting instalment, folks!
Loth as I am to interrupt the flow . . . . .
Go on... and I really hope it's important
Of course it isn't - please carry on, pen.
He knew him from his days of penury
This is an extremely shaggy dog. Enough yet?
Shaggy enough to make a big woolly jumper?
It's not an adder, it's a boa subtractor.
Did that spring to mind at night, Rosie?
For me it was late evening, I confess.
Anyhow, the done-good snake's reminiscing friend evenutally says:
Fun fact- I'm writing this from my PlayStation.
Go on, pen. I'm agog, despite the hour.
"Oh yes, I've known him for so long...."
"I knew him when (this may surprise you)..."
:He didn't have a pit to hiss in."
Tonite (sic) I am going to a jazz gig.
I've written eight words for your reading pleasure!
[Rosie] Well then, eight word gig review, please!
There's a wasp in my office. In November!
Saw two butterflies in my garden only yesterday.
Another unquestionable sign of the impending end times?
(Tuj, belatedly) The New Delta Band played their arses off.
The first eight words of the New Year.
At this slow rate, we'll have summer soon.
Fair old stretch on the evenings this week.
It will soon be my birthday, so there.
They say it'll snow but I've had none.
Me neither but it is brass monkeys outside.
The brass monkeys are queuing to get in!
Signs of spring. You can list them here.
Magpie carrying twigs this morning, from kitchen window
Why do you keep twigs on your window?
For making twiglets. Doesn't everyone have twigs handy?
I used to, but they were pretzel twigs.
I didn't try Marmite until I was 19.
Ma might have been looking after your health.
I hope Mamma laid on alternative spreads instead.
Jam jam jam jam jam jam jam jam!
Low fat cream cheese, the sweet chilli flavour.
On bread, I mostly like marmalade and honey.
You and I are as one on that.
Jam jam jam jam jam jam jam jam...
I gather you have just left the M25.
Jam, jam, jam, jam, jam! I've grown accustomed....
Amazing things can emerge from extensive jam sessions.
This game seems to have been largely forgotten.
But eight words can bring it to life.
If only we could work out which eight.
I wonder if it is one of these?
OED random word generator suggestions: implex, quickhatch, profligation.
If only I knew what these words meant.
The second is uttered while impatiently awaiting chicks.
The first's the building where Santa's team works.
The last is someone who gives bondage classes.
Should we find another list of random words?
Pack my box with five dozen liquor jugs.
Random? It seems the monkeys have typed Shakespeare. Er, sorry Raak, old chap.
OED random word generator II: topsoil moellon toughly
Great name for Public House: Pug Pup Pub.
Or how about this one: The Starving Starling?
Expanding on Raak's: 'Satan, oscillate my metallic sonatas'
I seem to have stalled three games. Sorry.
Nail gnats, Aesop, or pay apropos East Anglian.
Hidden textCould we make a game out of this?
Big gnat? Small ogre? "Ergo Tango, gnat ogre!"
Hmmm. Re: bum sag - Rosie is "orgasm über"
Known. Ten animals I slam in a net.
Time for another seven words, I suppose.
I can handle posting eight, so can you.
It's taken ages to find the right eight.
I have just found another eight lying around.
Here's three more.
I must find five to make it right.
Ha! Chance would be a fine thing, Phil.
Je suis en le France avec mes amis.
J'ai parlez Francais com un vache Espanol, Oui.
'Dwi'n siarad Cymraeg fel Saeson, mae'n ddrwg geni.
Three words saying it's Thursday? Friday minus one.
Weekend minus two? Monday morning minus four? Yuk!
One, two, miss a few, ninety-nine, one-hundred! Coming!
We must get over this obsession with numbers.
I agree. Let's make it Greek letters instead.
My favourites are zeta, xi, theta and psi.
And I thought you were an alpha male.
Funnily enough, that'th what Catherine Theta Joneth thaid.
Is it lunchtime yet? Did someone mention pie?
Have you got permission to eta pi, pen?
Permission? It's more like Pie et mon droit.
Pun time? If you can't beta them, join them.
One man's meta is another man's poison. Aye.
One man's meat is another man's poisson. Oui.
One man's meat is another man's possum. Beaut!
One man's meat is another man's posaune. Ja!
Hidden textTrombones taste awful, actually.
Have you tried eating troms off the bone?
And chase it down with sacks of phones.
I've just booked a two-night break in Ipswich.
What do you plan to break there, pen?
The monotony and effort of working life, Softers.
Working life? Ah, yes. I can remember that.
Only another 17 years to go until retirement.
The first eight words in October? Really? Blimey.
Some of us are more active than others.
Is there a game for the naturally reticent?
Hidden textDon't answer, obviously.
It's would be the 'No Moves Necessary' game.
I'm busy with other things these days, alas.
Are you grandfathering a new generations of Crescenters?
Grandfathering is easy. I've seven at last count.
Yes, penelope. He's due to be born tomorrow.
Oh my word... back to the future, Grandad!
It's bleddy dark, innit folks? Not very keen.
Oh, there goes "No-Move-Ember". No-one tell you, pen?
[Tuj] I've got the golden ticket. You lose.
A small bonfire planned for tonight. Just because.
Do the clogs understand the Guy Fawkes fascination?
Nope. Most of them don't know about it..
Wingtips, loafers, and trainers, however, love it dearly!
Not to mention winkle-pickers, brothel-creepers, espadrilles and Jesus-boots!
That is quite a substantial list of footwear.
I can only wear one pair at once.
Why wear a pair, my dear old thing?
An odd pair makes me limp, old bean.
That's strange; it's alcohol that makes me limp.
Take the bottle out of your shoe, numpty.
I think limp was intended as an adjective.
Limp can be a noun, verb or adjective!
Whereas a limpet can only be a noun.
Meaning a small wet limp, isn't that so?
Nobody is playing AVMA. Have I upset them?
Happy New Year. Here Are Five More Words.
Ah, so you are still alive over there, Giertrud.
Anyone else alive? I'm suffering death by chocolate.
I'm alive, and undergoing death by condensed milk.
I'm alive and recovering from jet lag, slowly.
I overslept this morning. Got away with it.
Sirius was very bright over Thornton Heath tonight.
Stars over North Wessex Downs were stunning too.
And over Heijningen, but it was bloody nippy.
Surely the stars are indifferent to their audience.
Maybe so - but they look very different tonight.
Why is that? Have you been ingesting substances?
Rosie, yes, I am still alive--sometimes kicking!
Minus six at home this morning. Very invigorating.
You're made of tougher stuff, pen, warmer here.
I have single malt on my Weetabix, Softers.
What? And the sun not over the yardarm?
I think the sun has actually gone out.
Rainy Sunday. Bacon and egg sandwiches. That's all.
The Met Office are now naming Atlantic storms.
I'm naming my bad moods. This one's Aelfsige.
Rain, rain, rain. When will it ever stop?
I'm now part-owner of a 70-year old tractor.
Anything 70 years old should be scrapped forthwith.
My mother might rightly put up a fight.
They don't make them like that any more.
No, they're all diesels (diseasels, colloquially) these days.
Is it spring yet? Is it spring yet?
BOING! BOING! BOING! BOING! BOING! BOING! BOING! BOING!
Starts 1st March, pen. We shall have snow.
How prescient, Rosie. We had snow this morning.
Chicken, fish, four sides ... am so full now.
I must not indulge; I am already overweight.
But I can cook some really good food.
Oh yes, she can. I second that emotion.
I do not have my work head today.
Another Monday morning post, a month later. Pfft.
Woo, Wednesday afternoon, woo! ...woo, woo... woo... Twit.
This looks like the end for one of
the slowest games on record in the Morniverse.
Some things are really worth waiting for. Sometimes.
I think that I see what you mean.
I've got a mate who uses up-speak? Sad.
Imagine sometimes being age bracketed with millenials. Terrifying.
Less chance if you cultivate your grey hairs.
My cat was a millennial, born about 1990.
My millennial falcon was stolen by George Lucas.
Freddie Starr ate my hamster. No, wait, ummm...
It's Summer! It was Winter a moment ago.
(Raak) That's a pretty good definition of Spring.
True English people, nostalgically talking about the weather.
Nostaligic? It's happening right now! There's no waiting!
Spring again. Looks like Summer, feels like Winter.
Shurely not with the Cup Final coming up?
Summer starts on Mid-summers day. Finishes shortly afterwards.
I hope Mourinho cocks up at Man U.
I never wish ill on anyone. Except Trump.
One no trump, doubled, redoubled, went three down.
*waves tiredly from under a pile of marking*
We have had rather a good thunderstorm today.
And another one today (sic) and tomorrow's Thor's Day.
Glad to be of service, don't you know.
Too much pizza. Too much cake. Now sleepy.
Hummmph! European cup boredom has set in already.
Being of the Cambrian persuasion I profoundly disagree.
I didn't leave the house the whole weekend.
Too much pizza. Too much cake. Again? Yes!
Ooooh cake! I need coffee and walnut. NOW!
In fact, I think that's tonight's project. Yummy.
Don't leave that cake out in the rain.
I fear that this sentence will non sequitur.
Did anyone get solsticed overnight or this morning??
Is it Summer? Dense rain is hiding everything.
Well, that's it, the days are drawing in.
Thank goodness. Short nights are short of sleep.
When nights grow longer the heat grows stronger.
Longer days give more time to do things.
Finally out of hospital after hit-and-run...
Hidden textor if hit-and-run is one word: Finally out of hospital after hit-and-run got me.
There's a story behind that, mark my words.
I hope you are well and fully reassembled, Giertrud.
Well, that hot spell did not last long.
Was hot here yesterday - bought a new hammock.
Still sweltering in mad dogs and Englishmen weather.
I'm on hols. Forecast: three days' persistent rain.
Well, it is raining here if that counts.
Nineteen millimetres of rain have ruined my drought.
More rain in August than in July, already.
[Rosie] So sorry about your ruined drought. *snigger*
Radio Four long wave, Test Match Special, civilisation.
American niece arrived safely. Sent her to Amsterdam.
Why you sen' 'er Amsterdam? Wa' she done?
She wanted to see. Ate pancakes, drank beer.
Next week's over-hyped heatwave has been toned down.
I wish someone would tell the mosquitos. Ouch.
There's a full moon Thursday night. Take care.
I suggest you put your trousers back on.
Nobody will see anything - it will be cloudy.
Weather report Jersey: It is quite windy today.
Is your Jersey windproof? Mine has knitted holes.
Next Wednesday looks very hot (at the moment).
It was here, at any rate, old chum.
It was quite sweaty this Wednesday, 27 degrees.
Sweatier here, 29 degrees by all accounts.
We had 31 yesterday. I'm buying discounted sweaters.
28 here, which means I am a sweater.
Somewhat cooler today and windy too, by jingo.
Another 30 degrees today. Thunderstorms tomorrow, I hope.
3 Degrees now. Next up is The Supremes.
My baby love went completely pear-shaped, alas.
Eight words is insufficient for Morningtonesque prolixity, obviously.
People can look stupid in just in eight words.
Eight? Two!
Behold, the full moon beams down at us.
Is it now a waxing or waning sliver?
Silver should be scrubbed with Silvo, not waxed.
Wax would make the Lone Ranger slide off.
The clocks went back! The clocks went back!
What did they find when they got back?
[Rosie] They found there was no time left.
Poor clocks! Let's hear it for the Luddites.
Apparently Donald Trump's clock has two little hands.
We're out of time on that one. Next!
Critical mass of stupidity attained, implosion countdown started.
Where's the bloody Kryptonite when you need it?
Kryptonite? What I need is a crap tonight.
[Rosie] Just had eight days of the other.
I find a crossword helps. Number two down.
Italians no problem. Milan is on the Po.
I have been barred from my local. Hooray!
Is that because of your outspokenness then, Rosie?
That's one way to save money over Christmas.
(Softers) They cannot stand even mild web criticism.
(pen) Nah! There are plenty more agreeable places.
So you're looking for a 'yes' pub? Cheers!
(pen) Not difficult. A splendid one in Croydon.
It's bleddy dark, innit? When's the solstice then?
(pen) Wednesday at 10.44 UT. Gloom, glorious gloom.
Horrah! That means it will soon be Summer!
The sooner Summer comes, the sooner Winter follows.
Raak, that is really a very depressing truism.
The sooner Winter comes, the sooner Summer follows!
Which comes first - the winter or the summer?
Storm Barbara hits as we go to sea.
Ploughing the waves is a desperately wet affair.
And the furrows don't stay where they're ploughed.
I'm adding a comment here for no reason.
That statement defies its own logic, doesn't it?
I'm adding a currant here for no raisins.
Happy New Year!
And the same to you.
My keyboard is all smeared with coconut oil.
Not being naughty in the office, are we?
The painful truth; seasonal excema, defies cortisone cream. :o(
I have some coconut oil -- must try it.
Is it any good for trombone slide lubrication?
I find it stops my coconuts from chaffing.
[Rosie] You'll be playing all the Copacobana tunes.
I can only play The Girl From Ipanema.
But not The Boy From New York City?
I can do this screamer at half pace.
[Rosie] Go on then. Don't blow a gasket!
A nine millimetre snowdrift appeared outside my house. ?
Please keep me away from the news today.
pen, I've become a newsphobe since May's promotion.
(pen) Got any gaskets, then? There are limits.
I'm going back to bed and staying there.
Is this a form of hibernation, then, Superman?
Yes, it's the next step in human evolution.
My mouth has evolved into a cereal port.
How long can we possibly avoid the inevitable?
For as long as your toothache is bearable.
For as long as I still have teeth.
I haven't eaten cereal in about 6 months =(
Alas for [Tuj], the bears steal his porridge!
My local supermarkets have stopped selling Weetabix. Brexit!
Brexit? Well, f***s it up if nothing else.
Friday Friday Friday Friday Friday Friday Friday yay!
My opinion doesn't count. Probably best that way.
My opinion doesn't count. Probably best that way.
Friday pizza cake Friday pizza cake double yay!
Sunday afternoon. Wasted most of it asleep. Bugger.
Monday morning sunshine! Stuck in the office. Bugger.
Monday morning rain. Snug in the office. Smug.
Monday morning, retired, lazing at home, even smugger.
Aching shoulders, arms. But in a good way.
[Raak] Have you been lifting pretty ballerinas again?
[pen] Just beating on drums the whole day.
What goes with fried onions? A friend asks.
Liver. Sausages. Bacon. Black pudding. More fried onions.
Steak, hot dogs, more hot dogs. Damn. Hungry.
Your appetite appears insatiable, pen. Is this good?
[Rosie] Absolutely not. I'm a fat bloater, curses.
Never thought of you as a fish, pen.
The pen fish is mightier than the swordfish.
Nobody has made a comment for two weeks.
Except you. You broke the radio silence, Softers.
If we're very quiet, that might mend it.
Such an approach requires elimination of the flatulent.
pen, did I transgress in some obscure way?
Incoming! This message will self-destruct in five seconds.
[Bismarck] Your message may have a faulty fuse.
Don't touch it! It might still go off!
My wholemeal rolls have gone off, but quietly.
Longer life wholemeal. Kept cryogenically frozen, for ever.
They're not "off", they have a freshness difference.
I wouldn't try that approach with chicken nuggets.
Nor mussels, definitely not with mussels, oh, no.
My home-made chicken liver pate was off immediately.
And so was I. Anyone need a purge?
After Brexit, all communications will be reduced by
The early worm is caught by the bird.
Birds are sharp; especially their pointy little beaks.
The dawn chorus is in E flat major.
I didn't know the dickybirds played alto sax.
The birds outside my window play fowl music.
Ta-dum, ta-dum, ta-tee and I've forgotten the rest.
Not just the rest but the key change.
I'm not changing keys. Mine still open doors.
They won't open my back door - it's stuck.
Have you tried some sort of greasy lubricant?
Rosie, you didn't glue the front door, too?
(pen) It sags. Cheap 'n' nasty from B&Q (one word).
France apparently voted for a macaroon as president.
[Bismarck] Preferable to a biro that works underwater.
Brexit friends coming for the weekend. Shit fuck.
That's the "entertainment" you're putting on, pen?
The Eurovision Song Contest has been and gone.
Has it? I did not really notice it.
It's been chucking it down here all day.
Muggy but dry here. It was 30c yesterday.
Oh the joy of the decaffeinated vole dance!
The caffeine content of voles is quite remarkable.
Makes them jump over composers. Vole Over Beethoven!
*fixes a vole where the rain gets in*
Italian voles can fly, caffeinated or otherwise. Volare!.
Fixing a vole? Isn't that by The Beatles?
Revolver is by the Beatles. I remember it.
Volvic. Ideal for voles with a blocked nose.
Volvo. Ideal for transporting large numbers of rodents.
Evolution, or the development of Vole mark 2.
Voluntary. To ask the vole to hurry up.
Alcovolism, a terrible trend among the gnawing youth.
Voles never need to wear spectacles — nolens volens.
Is it the weekend yet? How much longer?
A couple of days need to go by.
I wonder if voles look forward to weekends?
Most voles support Sunderland, so I doubt it.
The vole weekend runs from November to March.
This proves that voles are of Australian origin.
Hot. Rug under shady tree, watermelon. No voles.
Hot rug. Under shadytree? Water me lonno voles.
Watermelons can swing like mad. Just get this.
So do cement mixers; a favourite of Pater's.
Compared with that, my playing is crap, alas.
My playing is like a cement mixer's, alas.
I can play the cement mixer - musique concrete.
He who pays the builder, calls the tune.
Music for plumbers. Sounds ideal for tap dancing.
There was once a group called The Scaffold.
Didn't they hymn the virtues of capital punishment?
You want to get ahead? Get a guillotine.
Are pesky seabirds annoying you? Get a gullotine.
Is the guillemot a seabird which headed off?
Guillotine motion in the Commons: A good idea!
Whose head shall roll? Such a wonderful choice.
Head rolls? I prefer bacon butties, sans ketchup.
You are teasing my taste buds now, pen.
Friday. FRIDAY! Do you know what that means?
Your devices are buggered, yesterday being THOR's day,
But today is Wednesday, and it's nearly lunch.
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