<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670596184950400269</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:11:14.257-05:00</updated><category term='dark'/><category term='welcome'/><category term='onewordonestory'/><category term='LA'/><title type='text'>One Word, One Story</title><subtitle type='html'>One Word One Story. You suggest the words, I write the stories.  Let the games begin!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6670596184950400269/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Christopher Feyrer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13299672702112027207</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670596184950400269.post-1029386520114539560</id><published>2009-05-20T13:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T13:07:48.614-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So many ideas, so little time.</title><content type='html'>Turns out I haven't had the time to give OWOS the attention it deserves, so I'm just posting this to let everyone knows that it will be on hiatus -- like NDL and many of my other creative endeavors, so I can concentrate on the job that pays the bills and my son.  Enjoy the stories that were written, and I will post when there will be more!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chris&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6670596184950400269-1029386520114539560?l=onewordonestory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/feeds/1029386520114539560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6670596184950400269&amp;postID=1029386520114539560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6670596184950400269/posts/default/1029386520114539560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6670596184950400269/posts/default/1029386520114539560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-many-ideas-so-little-time.html' title='So many ideas, so little time.'/><author><name>Christopher Feyrer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13299672702112027207</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670596184950400269.post-6254550251870052287</id><published>2008-05-02T21:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T21:59:47.268-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So what do you think?</title><content type='html'>Cool concept so far? Would like some feedback. Also..some words so I can make new stories!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6670596184950400269-6254550251870052287?l=onewordonestory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/feeds/6254550251870052287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6670596184950400269&amp;postID=6254550251870052287' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6670596184950400269/posts/default/6254550251870052287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6670596184950400269/posts/default/6254550251870052287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/2008/05/so-what-do-you-think.html' title='So what do you think?'/><author><name>Christopher Feyrer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13299672702112027207</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670596184950400269.post-5254875204037139437</id><published>2008-04-29T19:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T00:37:22.254-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dark'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='onewordonestory'/><title type='text'>One Word: Loins</title><content type='html'>Word suggestion by: James Meyers&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Bridget had never been a meat-eater, and she couldn't believe she was doing this.  Ted had called her up seemingly out of nowhere, and he just HAD to see her.  Extremely effeminate and lively, Bridget assumed Ted was gay, but never really knew.  Deep down though, she had a feeling that she would never be into him so it was never an issue. So when he asked her out to dinner she assumed it would just be another fun night on the town. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her cell phone had rang at about 8 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello?" she asked, her matted red hair needing a flick out of the way to effectively hear the voice on the other end of the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, it's Ted. GUESS WHAT, you HAVE to come to this new restaurant with me tonight!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted sounded more excited than normal, and normal from him was lively enough. He was positively ecstatic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um, okay.  You know I'm a vegetarian, right?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, yeah," said Ted, but he sounded undeterred. "But you aren't religious about it or anything right?? You still eat fish and meat sometimes??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure," said Bridget. Even if she wasn't going to eat anything, she still had to know exactly what was going on with this meal.  Ted was scaring her a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK," said Ted, his breath short with excitement.  "You know that little bar Henninger's near 1st and main?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bridget paused, "yeah I've had a few drinks there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's right next door.  It's called "Happy Food," said Ted. "I'll be there in about a half hour and I'll meet you there.  They know me there now so we will have our own private table!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK, weirdo," said Bridget, amused, and a little weirded out.  She hadn't had meat in what, 10 months, since her Aunt Beatrice made her eat the yearly meatloaf at Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bridget arrived at the restaurant at around 8:15. She was barely able to find a parking spot. The place must have become popular rather quickly, she thought.  Trance music echoed from the windows of the establishment and before you know it, Ted was up in her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come on, I called ahead we have a table!!" said Ted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main door to Happy Food was very plain, it was just a wooden door that you'd see anywhere; it reminded Bridget of her front closet door in her apartment, just plain, oak.  Nothing impressive.  And when the door opened, all she saw were people sititng at tables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where things got odd. No one was talking.  Everyone was smiling -- but no one was talking. The sound of a pop radio station was in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're table is ready," whispered a hostess, who approached them.  She was in a tight pink uniform that was form fitting, and she also had a rather broad grin on her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this unbridled happiness made Bridget a little nervous, but she took her seat in a corner booth that had been prepared for them. Ted eagerly sat next to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took a good look at Ted.  His brown mused up hair did not appear to have been washed in days.  His' clothes weren't clean. Something was definitely wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, today's special is loins," said the hostess politely. "Same as yesterday."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oooh, loins!" said Ted. "Nummy! I know what i'm going to order."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bridget cringed, that did NOT sound good...meaty and vulgar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A waitress approached them. "Can I see a menu?" asked Bridget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure," said the waitress politely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opening the menu revealed just one item.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOINS: $15.99.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all the menu said. It wasn't even a special font and there wasn't even an illustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"2 loins please," said Ted eagerly, but the waitress was one step ahead of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "You're loins are already ready!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two plates filled with meat arrived seemingly out of nowhere and were plopped in front of the couple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted looked incensed. "LOINS!" he said, and began to eagerly consume the food....not even using utensils.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bridget was a bit scared at this point but ...it was for Ted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took a timid bite of the well-cooked, black meat.  And instantly her whole body felt rapturous.  She immediately knew that she would want nothing but LOINS to eat for the rest of her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the back of the restaurant, the manager smirked at a waiter.  "I think we have another customer for life," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waiter replies, "I know, don't you love it when the FDA doesn't regulate things properly?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- The End&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6670596184950400269-5254875204037139437?l=onewordonestory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/feeds/5254875204037139437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6670596184950400269&amp;postID=5254875204037139437' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6670596184950400269/posts/default/5254875204037139437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6670596184950400269/posts/default/5254875204037139437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/2008/04/one-word-loins.html' title='One Word: Loins'/><author><name>Christopher Feyrer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13299672702112027207</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670596184950400269.post-5171973045695720238</id><published>2007-10-30T19:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T12:43:23.453-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One Word: tiger</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Word submitted by Alejo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Plastic always has seemed like one of the necessary evils of the world.  When you see it floating across a landfill, you know it's waste.  When you see a huge colorful toy in a display at a store in the holidays, you know that that will be waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When plastic burns, it smells, and it's toxic. Leave plastic on a hot kitchen stove with no ventilation in the room, and you could easily poison yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yet, to a child like Stephen, a little plastic tiger from a fast food restaurant was his joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When Stephen was 6, his parents had divorced and that tiger was the last gift they gave to him together before the split. It became a symbol for Stephen, of possibility, and of hope.  Whenever he saw couples split up as he grew, he looked at his tiger and thought of the promise of togetherness, of union, of hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eventually, that hope saw him through, and when he turned 26, he was married to a lovely brunette who would be faithful to him until the end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The small, plastic tiger stood on their bedpost, looking on, fulfilling its promise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6670596184950400269-5171973045695720238?l=onewordonestory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/feeds/5171973045695720238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6670596184950400269&amp;postID=5171973045695720238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6670596184950400269/posts/default/5171973045695720238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6670596184950400269/posts/default/5171973045695720238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/2007/10/one-word-tiger.html' title='One Word: tiger'/><author><name>Christopher Feyrer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13299672702112027207</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670596184950400269.post-5022058774065196395</id><published>2007-10-30T06:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T07:31:58.808-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='onewordonestory'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='welcome'/><title type='text'>One Word: Welcome</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Editor's note: To start things off, I'm going to use a word I see at signposts marking the beginning of a new journey.  Be sure to comment your word suggestions for the next story at the end of the post!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julie had always been an outsider.  Since she and her boyfriend had moved from Wisconsin to Southern California there had been instant culture clash.  Her Irish-Catholic upbringing seemed to clash instantaneously with the free-willed craziness of Los Angeles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire city appeared to be covered with soot.  This was new to her, maybe normal here, but new to her.  The thin mist, like carbon copy fibers, covered everything from the roads; where such things were expected; to the cars; where it looks like it had rained pollution unapologetically on everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the McDonalds was different.  They had guacamole burgers.  Guacamole burgers were unheard of in Wisconsin, you see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, if Heather Graham can do it, so can I," she thought.  Heather Graham was Julie's hero; a Wisconsin native, she had gone on to Hollywood fame, and had maintained both her beauty and sense of integrity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julie walked through the downtown streets, noticing the Hispanic population and all the strange and uncomfortable newness of it all.  She felt very white, very pasty, and very uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man approached her, in his mid-forties.  He was dark, tall, and smiling.  His ethnicity was hard to point out; maybe he was biracial?  But, amongst all this strangeness and newness, she must have stuck out like a sore thumb. He seemed to be reading her perplexed facial expressions like a book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"New around here, aren't you," he said in a friendly, deep voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um, yeah," Julie replied nervously, and began to walk away from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I moved here when I was about your age.  There's always new people here. I've seen it all.  But there's one thing that they all have in common.  The sky," he said simply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" she said nervously and paused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The sky's the same. No matter where you're from, no matter what you speak, the sky's the same here as where you're from.  It welcomes everyone. Don't worry too much, okay?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little girl, no more older than 3, ran to him. Julie hadn't noticed her before because, well honestly, she had been looking at the tall man's faced and thought he was alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Daddy," she said, "who is the strange woman?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry Sharon," said the man, "she's from the same sky as us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," said Sharon knowingly.  It was clearly apparent she had heard this before.  Sharon smiled at Julie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julie smiled sheepishly at Sharon,  mouthed "Thank you" to the man, and walked on, feeling better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked up, and for the first time, felt welcome in the new city.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6670596184950400269-5022058774065196395?l=onewordonestory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/feeds/5022058774065196395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6670596184950400269&amp;postID=5022058774065196395' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6670596184950400269/posts/default/5022058774065196395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6670596184950400269/posts/default/5022058774065196395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onewordonestory.blogspot.com/2007/10/welcome.html' title='One Word: Welcome'/><author><name>Christopher Feyrer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13299672702112027207</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
