Six words. Your life. Get busy!
The New Yorker has a short piece about "Not Quite What I Was Planning," which is a new collection of six-word memoirs. The idea is that you sum up your life in six words. Excerpt: The book’s originator: SMITH online...
Was this inspired by Hemingway's six-word short story "For sale: baby shoes, never used."?
Lucky to have my beloved wife.
"Look out, Paw, it's...it's...AHHHHHHHHHHgh!"
that all myths are created equal
(S)ocratic (L)aughter, (A)narchic (H)umanism, (T)easing (I)ntellect
Project also reported at The Daily Telegraph and The New York Times -
telegraph.co.uk/arts/main.jhtml?xml=/arts/2008/02/06/boleith106.xml
cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/02/07/summing-it-up-in-six-words
Blessed beyond understanding. Thank's Lord.
Thought I was right. Then bam!
Had some kids, God help us.
Rod,
OK, you made me laugh out loud with that one. And I can see the delivery just fine!
I've seen this reported on a couple of other blogs, and my summary there was "I have a book on that"... with "So, that was fun. Now what?" as an alternate. (I think I'd want that on my headstone, if I was going to have a headstone.)
Despite me, it turned out okay.
Raised Catholic. Grew up. Now atheist.
Where are you, God? Oh, there.
He makes just one like that.
I once had a client call me up because he'd found a gate that he loved. I refused to duplicate it because I'd made that one for that customer but I promised him I'd come up with a design for him. I did. It's the rock gate.
I also refuse to make stuff that copies what other people are doing. My position is that if you want one of those go to the guy that makes those.
Invariably when clients approach me they're prepared for two things. I won't copy and I'm going to do it on my schedule, come Hell or high water.
Nearly gave up. Glad I didn't.
Κύριε Ἰησοῦ, ἐλέησόν με τὸν ἁμαρτωλό
("Lord Jesus, have mercy on me, the sinner" - it's six words in Greek)
After this one, guardian angel retiring.
Overeducated underachiever. Contented housewife. Sorry, Mom.
Illness leaves me seeking new mission.
Played bass guitar. No one cared.
My boy: it's not about me.
A bit off, but good company.
Like a modern Jerome, only hairier.
Never quite got past age twelve.
Kinda Jewish for a Yankee Gentile.
A Wolverines fan, he understood suffering.
Learned to leave the seat down.
And because of the above comment with multiple offerings:
Not big on following a format.
Didn't finish Ph.D.; life goes on.
Med school too pricey; writes instead.
Christian; Optometrist; Dad; success and failure.
Aching beauty splashed across dark canvas.
Beam me up!! Helloooo? Anybody there?
Well, so much for "Plan D."
Cue the Dramatic Prairie Dog again!!!
Trying to do right. Sometimes succeeding.
Working hard. Five kids. Head hurts.
God is good; all else follows
Love wondrous, divine. Words human, inadequate.
Right in hell, repentant in heaven.
2008: No longer a profane blogger.
He came, he saw, he served.
Six words, you said? Oh, bother.
Cut hair, took shower, got job.
I like yours Daniel!
mine:
God's Grace What a splendid Mystery
It seemed funny at the time.
I wish I weren't so fat.
Mrs. Pringle
Christ is Risen. Wife, kids agree.
Sin rampant, job secure, preach passionately.
Dissatisfied, thought too much, kept going.
My mind forever warped by LSMSA.
Ok, I am stealing this from the teaser of that new show on NBC, "Quaterlife", but it made me laugh so hard, I fell over.
I amuse myself, therefore I am.
Durnit, I need seven, not fair.
;-D
Mom was right: cry, laugh aloud.
[Really, it works better as: Cry openly, laugh aloud; mom was right.]
Why couldn't it have been Robert?
Hurt, fell, found, recovered, living, loving.
I've really had a wonderful life.
(with apologies to Frank Capra)
Dorothea Brooke syndome: got over it.
Regret, regret, regret, regret, regret, regret.
What bus are you talking about?
Born only, now 1 of 5!
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