grrr! cum ere an giv us a kiss!!! whoaa!
* grabs a large and absorbent towel *
TYPO ALERT!!!TYPO ALERT!!!TYPO ALERT!!!TYPO ALERT!!!TYPO ALERT!!!
TYPO ALERT!! PINK I have just dicovered a reall bad typo in one of my
TYPO ALERT!!! posts In stead of 63not 36 . It should read 6ft3in not 3ft 6in
TYPO ALERT!!!
TYPO ALERT!!! 8)
Is speechless. Really. I can’t think of anything to say at this junction.
I am not sure which is worse… the thought of you as a dried out gandalf, or a virile midget,
MIDGET!! MIDGET!! WOT YTALKIN ABOUT YBIMBO
I SAID 6FT 3IN NOT3FT 6IN
jeeezz!!
I have solved your synopsis problem, Vic. All you need is a copy of Microsoft Word; use its AutoSummarize feature, and bingo! There’s your synopsis.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking it couldn’t possibly be this easy, aren’t you? So, just to prove you wrong, I plugged in my 50k+ draft and reduced it to twenty sentences. I think you’ll find the result is quite compelling:
[quote]
John was happy.
John glared. “Right,â€
Siren,
Dont fret your self about your literary capabilitys shortcomings, Pet 
Youre not on your own :slight_smile: Not only is verbal diarrhoea my forte!! literary short comings are too! :laughing: So you really are not on your own,Kidoe :wink: I dont need MS though. Its agift ive got 
see above and below
Franz
TRUE HORROR STORY FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE
. Chapter 4
In The Thirty- nine Steps, Scottish author John Buchan teaches us all to how to become convincing liars (or writers?.). After encountering a Scottish navvy hard at work, alone, away out on the Scottish moors, digging a ditch, Buchans hero, Richard Hanney, emersed himself in the mans persona.
As the navvy departs the scene, Hanney becomes that navvy. Outwardly, altering his appearance and carrying on with the ditch digging, whilst inwardly convincing (this is the important bit, fellow travellers),….himself… that he was that navvy.When Hanney`s pursuers finally caught up with him, it was a Scottish navvy that sent them off on a fools errand in pursuit of their own tail. So convincing was the liar and the lie.
Believe the lie…Believe the lie…Believe the lie…Become the lie…
Be…come… the lie…my little fart faced friend…or should I say `fiend!
Whats wrong with your face now. Getting worried are we! It knows something is wrong but it cant get its head around what or why. But it will, sure as doggies, do dodo. It feckin will. It knows its bad. Just look at is eyes. Its eyes are glowing like two superheated white hot coals, plucked from Lucifer`s forge, and bunged into its stupid fat face.
I know what it wants to do, I can read its mind just like it used to be able to read mine because its my mind as well…. Yeah thats what I said, slime ball…used to, but not any more. It wants to sink its claws and teeth into me, and rip me to shreds, but it cant. Oh! dont get me wrong, it can inflict pain. Pain, even more excruciating than being told, that another branch of my freeloading in-laws are coming over to stay.
Psychosomatic pain comes without bloodshed, only tears and fear of repetition. This was a lesson I learned on that very first day. After an hour of face off like confrontation. Id become fed up. I wasnt afraid of it. No way! Wary, obviously, but not afraid. I reached out to push it aside and it struck. It felt as if all the flesh on the palm of my hand had been ripped off. The attack lasted no more than a split second, as did the pain but it was enough to make a lasting impression on my mental sensory receptors
Well spittle bubble! Do you want me to tell you where you screwed up? He!he!oh!jeezzz have you screwed up!!
Im gonna let the freak stew for a bit. Its kept me waiting long enough!
Sometimes it would collapse in a heap and snore its head off, only opening its eyes if it sensed I was contemplating a surreptitious synopsis strike( yeah,… I know, I can say it now). It never stopped me using iMac for anything else though. In fact the peasant would tap its foot in a show of boredom sometimes, just itching for a fight, or should I say bite . Youre not gonna believe this, but sometimes it would sit and watch or read whatever I was typing, whilst nodding its sodding head in approval or shaking it with disapproval, just like a tutor-!! I mean …come on..do me a favour..Ffeck sake!!
Thats it! Ive had enough now . Pay attention you slimy little slug. The synopsis has already been written. Capisch?.. Verstehen Sie?…Hello! is there anybody in there?
Why are you looking at me like that, little fellow…its true. Listen, my little verdant fool. In the first four paragraphs of Chapter 3, I give my fellow questing compatriots, the gist, of what my modest little article is all about. Ah! ah!, I see the penny is in slow motion free-fall. I could be wrong here, my little green dumpling, but I think that short explanation would qualify as a 150 word sssynnnoppssiss..ss..Yeah!!!,, done!!.. sorted! So..Stick it up y jacksey pal.
All that remains to be done, Little One, is, to, CutnPaste it in to Textedit, and perrrinnntt… it. orrrfff!
Oh gawd…no… look at its face!..Its coalescing into a human face!! Jeezz! its evil, so…evil looking… Its fading now, fast….gone!..Its gone! Its..its gone.
Little Buddys gone now, but where`, has he gone? And where did he really come from in the first place? And…and…and why?
To be concluded……
Possibly with alternitive endings 
That is if Siren would like to contribute one 
No! Tell me it’s not true! Your synopsis can’t be finished! What will I do without my daily fix of melodrama and suspense as the story unfolds? Aaagghh!
Glad you didn’t have to resort to a Microsoft Word auto-summary for it. As far as I can tell, it just picks out every single one- or two-word sentence in your entire draft, and ignores absolutely everything else. On what planet would that be considered a sensible method of producing a summary? 
Microsoft has kindly supplied me with a possible alternative ending for your tale - but I recommend you reject it, since it seems every bit as useless as its bizarre auto-summary of my fault-laden-but-surely-not-that-dire novel:
(No, I don’t know what John is doing in there, either.)
(P.S. Whose human face did the beastie coalesce into???)
I quite like the totally bizzarre optional ending, I am quite the fan of a “choose your own adventure” style book!
Siren,
Be my guest! Please Pull out all the stops, aim for the jugular,. or/Or even a juggler if you can find one.
Franz
. TRUE HORROR STORY FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE
.
. Chapter 4 and a little bit
Just let me tell you this, youre not gonna believe it. Little Buddy loved Jameson! Yeah!! The little guy loved it. As soon as Id entered the room, glass in hand, his little tail would start wagging. It would be going like the clappers of Hell, when he saw the glass.
He used to reach into the glass with one of his funny little arms, and dip a claw into the Holy Distillation, and then lick it off.
Actually, he was licking Jameson of a claw and nodding his little head in approval, watching,… as I… typed out the first four paragraph …of…of…chapter thr… I feel like shit .
My beloved Lilly, the mouse hound, would jump up on to my desk top and park her arse on the opposite side of iMac and sit looking at Buddy. Oft times, she would walk across and rub her nose against his, before jumping down and toddling off out of the room. I swear! every time the little bitch did that, Buddy would go a much deeper shade of green. He used to …blush. Jeeezz! What…what have I done? I miss the little bastard!
conclusion continues…
I think I have just endured one of those Epiphanous Interludes
Either that or it was a Jameson tainted `Senior Momment
I`ll have to give this some serious thought 
I think I’ve finally figured you out, vic-k. You’re not a 63-year-old welder, you’re only posing as one on this forum. In reality you’re an ultra-famous teen pop sensation. Am I right? At least close?
You’re late. I think everyone on the forums has got this one worked out by now.
Dang. I always was a little slow.
All right!!Ok! [color=darkred][size=200]I am[/size][/b][/b] Britany Spears, most of the time, except for when Im Mrs.Beckham, or like now, Im Paris Hilton
See if I care
You’re not fooling us, Paul. Or should I rather say: Diana?
I most earnestly beg the indulgence of any sad soul who may be reading my sorry saga, as this is off topicgawd fgiv me, Im a sinner! My good lady wife has ordered me to Google Mothers Ruin` to see why gin is so called.
Dont ask me why she wants to know, cos I dont know.
Whilst awaiting the final outcome, cop aload o` this:
theanswerbank.co.uk/Phrases- … 89206.html
Hmm … Hippy is almost right … wrong in that it is Dutch Gin that was and still is “Genever”, not London or Plymouth Gin, leave alone Bombay Sapphire. And gin wasn’t as strong as it is now, so was drunk by the pint. Try that with your Jameson, Vic-k … or perhaps you already do … 
I love the taste of gin, but find it a depressant.
Mark