Today is the day to sell the vacation home.

At About Freelance Writers, I got interviewed recently by Loolwa Khazzoom. Don't you wish your name was that cool?

A Writing Exercise: Turning the Random Spam I've Been Receiving Lately Into Short Scenes

The part in color is the spam, which I didn't rearrange in order.

1. “I don’t know,” said the archeologist. “He’s kind of making sense to me.”

By this time the chemist was gesticulating wildly at a map and shouting, “It had the appearance of containing some magnificent Serapis of Greece--Ptolemy's dream. I don’t know if you understand the importance of the of these princes. Her name was Tryphena. After some time, but yet while It is found at last that both the existence of Egypt itself, and its In fact, Tryphena from this time seemed to feel a new and highly-excited The produce of the valley was thus brought down the river and through…”

“Oh wait, no,” said the archeologist. “I see what you mean. He’s gone psycho.”

“Should we just lock him in here then and let the cleaning crew deal with him later tonight?” asked the physicist, and they all agreed.

2. "Oh! Miss Woodhouse, what a pity that I must not write this beautiful poem since the muse is striking me at the moment."

Miss Woodhouse agreed.

"Well, my dear Jane, I believe we must be running away. The weather doesn’t always comply with us here in the country, and we must make haste while the sun is shining." He thought much of the evils of the journey for her, and not a little urine trickled into his knickers. The wedding was no distant event, as the parties had only themselves to blame for deciding to move so far away from everyone while still providing their forwarding address.

Mr. Woodhouse had so completely made up his mind to the visit, that in his haste he realized that he forgot to call ahead of time about the visit. He mused, "Mrs. John Knightley is easily alarmed, and might be made unhappy about us dropping in unexpectedly.”

"Yes, she would be, but that she thinks there will be another put-off is unlikely, said Miss Woodhouse. “What exactly do you mean by put-off?” asked Mr. Woodhouse.

“I don’t know,” said Miss Woodhouse. "What is to be done, my dear Emma?--what is to be done?" was Mr. Woodhouse's response.

“My name is Jane, not Emma,” said Miss Woodhouse. “Let’s just forget the whole thing.”

3. “…claim, as against a son. The name of the queen was Cleopatra. This was, drawing toward the close of his life, being in fact over eighty years of Arabia Deserta; the African tract has received the name of Sahara; while but she preferred the youngest, as she thought that her own power would close upon the shore. The first landmarks, in fact, which the seaman most extraordinary valley seems thus to have been formed and preserved the whole valley, and forms for a time an immense lake, extending in compelled her to recall Lathyrus from the banishment into which she had…”

“Oh my goodness, is that tourguide high?” Miss Weintraub, the fourth grade math teacher, asked Mr. Harris, the science teacher, who were both chaperoning the field trip.

“Maybe,” said Mr. Harris. “But who cares? I’m drunk. Want to go do it behind the mummies?”