A place to keep my entries for various contests and challenges |
This book is not only a place to create, keep, and store contest entries, it's also a log of items that may one day become something more. |
First, let’s be honest, you didn’t “fall” down the stairs, you were pushed. By whom? Nobody knows except the pusher. I suspect, however, that it was the individual who resides beyond the door behind the bar. Secondly, let’s address the ladder. Sure, there happened to be a ladder, just the right height to reach that hatch, just lying around in a basement. I think not! I have a theory on all of this. The ladder was placed where it would be discovered by the resident beyond the door behind the bar. Then, it was just a matter of time as the resident waited for someone to stop and peer into the dark basement, at which time the resident rushed out and pushed you down there. It was all planned, a ploy to fill the open position of “Guy In The Basement”. Think about it, how else was the position going to be filled? An ad in the paper, “Wanted, someone to reside in a dank, dark, and creepy basement filled with passageways, catacombs, and rooms that contain who knows what to write poetry, stories, blogs, and various prose and verse from dreams and nightmares. Your compensation will be a Newsletter to justify your very existence and an unlimited supply of cheap, homemade banana rum.” As you have likely noted, I have referred to the resident beyond the door behind the door as, “the resident”. Why? Because it seldom shows itself, and when it does, it is always cloaked in a swirling mist that obscures one’s vision and prevents anyone from seeing what it is. It may be something alien or mutated by the foul liquor stored in the basement. Or, it may be something from a completely different reality. I opened the door sometime back after fixing myself my third or fourth, perhaps even my tenth or eleventh Brass Monkey. It was while the bar was closed, I was taking advantage of free booze checking up on the bar. I had given in to curiosity and opened the door just enough to look inside. But, I couldn’t see anything. It wasn’t dark and it wasn’t light, it was more like a gray swirling mass. I opened the door a bit further and stuck my head in through the opening and strained to see through the grayness. There was a foul odor filling the absolute stillness beyond the door and I could just barely make out a figure sitting on a white chair or throne inside the swirling grayness. I was about to go inside a bit further when the figure reached out and slammed the door shut. I just barely managed to pull my head back before the door went shut! I heard an eerie voice screech at me from beyond that door, “Get out you pervert!” I pondered this over a few more Brass Monkeys but didn’t really figure it out until the next day when my head was pounding, and my stomach was churning. I was at home and ran to the bathroom, sat down, and swore I’d never drink again. Suddenly, the door started to open, I reached up and pushed it shut. “Get out of here.” I screeched. That’s when I figured out the door behind the bar is a bathroom, and when I peeked in, Volga, the barmaid, was doing her business. Yes, being the lazy person she/he (I don’t think anyone knows for sure) resides behind that door through most of her shift. I suspect a few other employees do the same during theirs. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
So, I completed my entry for the Guy In The Basement Appreciation 5-Day Mini Challenge earlier today, and he yelled at me for calling him names and threatened to have Andre come by and rough me up a bit if I did it again, I thought it was catchy, WS The Cellar Feller. But hey, I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings (or have Andre hurt me) so Guy In The Basement it is. But that's neither here nor over there someplace, what I wanted to do was to stop by and apologize to GITB. I had a dozen couple of Brass Monkeys to get my nerve up before starting down the dark, creaking, and cobweb-curtained stairway. When I reached the bottom, I realized there were no lights on except way down a narrow passage I hadn't even noticed before. It was there, plain as a dark, gloomy, and unpleasant day, but when GITBs door is open, the narrow passage is hidden behind it. Since his door was closed and locked, I decided to go back up. I mean, there isn't a chance in Hell I was going to walk down the feebly illuminated, cobweb-infested, and strange-smelling passage. Especially since it looked like there were fresh footprints (about a size 17) coming out of the passage. Bare feet, no shoe print. I thought perhaps Sasquash, but I don't think Big-Foot has eight toes and six-inch claws at the end of them. But, when I turned to leave, I heard someone say, "Hello." It was a deep, raspy voice and seemed to echo within my own head. I looked right and left, but didn't see anyone the freaky voice could have emitted from. Then, I felt something poke me in my stomach! I looked down and to my horror, saw want looked like a midget-sized cross between a toad and an orangutan. Its lips were moving and the strange, horse voice was coming from inside that fang-filled maw. "I say, hello there." I knew right away I had come across one of the mutants that dwell deep within the basement tunnels. "If you're looking for The Basement Guy, he's up at the bar." I didn't wait to see if the thing was savagely vicious, I ran up the steps two at a time and burst back into the light and sound of the bar. I swear I heard it running up the steps after me hissing out, "You rude bastard. What the Hells wrong with you?" I turned and faced the entrance to the basement but the hideous thing wasn't there. Instead, I saw Volga, one of the barmaids, holding a couple of bottles of banana rum. She snarled at me, called me an ass-hole, and kicked me in the shin as she walked by. I wonder what was up with her? Anyway, I'm pretty sure of what I saw down there, but after that many Brass Monkeys, maybe it was just Volga and I let my imagination run amuck. Maybe I'll have a few more and then go find her and apologize... What's the worst that could happen? A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
P2. The guy in the basement seems to know a lot about writing.com, blogging, and newsletters. I think he prints the Blogging Blitz Newsletter down there on one of those antique crank-by-hand printing presses. Write about something you may have learned from the guy in the basement or something he's said that may have been helpful to you. I agree about knowledge of WdC, he either knows a lot or baffles us with B.S. However, he's never steered me wrong. In fact, I don't think he's ever steered me at all. He has emailed me some blogging issues I had at the bar, and he's always helpful with the challenges. So, there's that. I get my Newsletter in my email and don't quite understand how he accomplishes that on an antique, crank printing press, but he's apparently very witty and has somehow linked it to one of the computers upstairs. What have I learned from the basement guy? Let me quote you these words of wisdom he shared just recently, "Read my portfolio at your own risk. Although it may explain why I'm in the basement." He also assisted Andre with sending me this wonderful badge: And, in addition, he often leaves comments on blogs and Newsfeed items. There is this thing I ponder in the wee hours of the night, halfway between dark and light, and it sometimes gives me a fright, so a favor I ask of you, if I might, and you grant me the right. Why do we keep calling him the Basement Guy? I know he's down in the basement, but it sounds like something my older sister would have used to scare me as a lad; the thing under the bed, the monster in the closet, the ghosts in the attic (the attic doorway was in my room) and now, the basement guy. I know him also as Wordsmitty ✍️ and see he signs emails with WS, I think the least we could do in appreciation of him is attach his initials with the title, "WS The Basement Guy" (like Larry the Cable Guy) or maybe WS The Cellar Feller, or something a bit more personal. I mean, we are participating in "Guy In The Basement Appreciation 5-Day Mini Challenge" so it seems proper to at least throw in his initials. Besides, it sets him aside from some of the other beings that reside in the tunnels and labyrinths (I hear tell there are even some mutants). Anyway, my dinner is ready, so I'll save this and post it at the bar later. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
We all know about the guy in the basement, right? But, has anyone actually seen him? Today the challenge is to look around the archives and nooks and crannies of the bar - Look in the basement if you dare - learn what you can and then share what you find out. You could write about an encounter you've had with him, or maybe, tell us what you think it is he does down there. See Not Below I guess we all know there's a guy down there, I mean it states it on the roster, The Basement Guy, and of course it states he's the Event Coordinator. Other than that, I know he writes a damn fine Newsletter and helps Andre with blogging challenges. But, I admit, I do not really know the guy; he's always in the basement, or at least anytime I visit the bar he's down there. As for what he does down there, he coordinates events, duh! I think he also has a stash of Oreos down there and probably a lot of milk. I also know he does come out of the basement because he does a lot around the site and has an interesting Portfolio; sometime when I have time, unlike this time when I have no time, I shall have to revisit his Port and read some items more in-depth. There's another person around the bar who actually provided us with the whimsical wonderful Andre, Brother Nature. Now this guy, I also do not really know. I mean, I do through the Banana Bar and all the fun that goes on there. I should know him, we are practically neighbors, he in Manitoba, and myself in Minnesota. We share some things in common, like some of the stuff that's common to both of us. "What? Do you need an example? Okay, in his bio he says he has a hard time filling these out. Well, so do I." I also think he's a spy or something, kind of like the Canadian version of the CIA (Canadian Intelligence Agency?) Anyway, he was around, and then "POOF" he was gone. He hasn't said anything, because if he did, he'd likely have to send Andre after me to hush me up, but I believe he was on a covert secret mission. Hey, that's all I can disclose, I don't want Andre showing up alongside my bed one night to hush me up. Anyway, this is my first entry and it's supposed to be about the basement guy, but somehow I managed to get into the attic, too. Side note: I did subtract the intro word count from the total. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |