Welcome to The Writer Games, a.k.a. the word olympics.
Like the real Winter Olympics, this contest lasts two weeks, involves a different event each day, and rewards the winners with medals, interviews and prizes.
Unlike the real Olympics you do not have to get your knees replaced biannually to compete.
We've all heard them.
"To your health"
"Salut"
"To life"
That marvelous little pause before downing a beverage,
half-prayer that it'll be a good swig,
half-celebration of good things.
TOASTS.
I realized my girls had lived four and a half years
without that little comfort food, cinnamon toast.
And yes, I did burn it.
But since they had nothing to compare it too,
and we don't see much sugar in these parts
it was a happy experience.
The Writer Games event today
is Ice Dancing, or
"Cheer Yourself":
Write your own toast.
Make up an original little toasting ditty.
You have until midnight on Friday to enter any of The Writer Games events. For those of you who are not math olympians, you have only three days left to play! So saddle your respective mental horses, giddy-up over to Last Week's action and join the stampede!
My toast:
May you never lose your love, your luck or your teeth!
7 comments:
may your life be like dancing barefoot at a country party - dangerous, dirty, fun and ending with you sliding into oblivion totally worn out and happy!
Good one, Jan. Here, here!
Regarding toasts. Great idea, Faith. I am limiting myself to just a few. I could so get into this, that I would give up my day job.
Ahem:
May your pantry always be full and may your dog never bite anyone, especially if he has rabies.
Here's to your health, your wealth, and proper therapy for your annoying personality traits.
Here's to you, and you, and you, but not him.
O.K. this is addicting.
"Dink, dink, dink!" A toast! A toast to those who are here, and for those who are there, drink deep the breath of life.
My dad's favorite, "Pass the Port and bring on the dancing girls!"
May every time you cry there be a dog there to lick your face.
Jan, I love the barefoot toast! It makes me think of stamping grapes, which has always seemed like such an exciting experience.
Richard, I like all the toasts! I'm particularly sensitive to the dog bite one, having been bit by a nearly rabid dog once.
And for that reason -
BJW, I might cry WHEN the dog licks my face. just a little whimper. For shame, eh? And I call myself an animal lover!
May your fevers be only of the dance variety, your tickets only from airlines, and your bruises be only on apples.
May your teeth rot from all that sweetness in your heart.
May bitter winds sting the frozen corpse of your enemy.
May warm wind blow on your face, but mostly may it blow a bag of money into your window.
And, finally, the silent toast from prospective boyfriend or girlfriend:
May you get drunk quickly and kiss me.
..............I got nothing!
Post a Comment