Woeisme stared at Bela; stared at her with the burning angst of a million suns and a couple smaller dwarf-suns. Bela stood there smiling like a nincompoop who was enthralled by something shiny, like ball of aluminum foil or a pile of glitter. Worst of all, everyone had the exact same stupid look on their faces. The exact same stupid way they looked at her because she was an awesome 16-year-old 4-year-old.
“How could I have been so stupid?” Vlad asked himself, “Clearly, Bela should have had the One Onion Ring from the start.”
“Bela, have I ever told you how much I adore you for no good reason?” Fig asked, as Woeisme continuously kicked him in the shin with no reaction whatsoever.
Bela flipped back her hair and everyone gasped in amazement.
“Well guys, it’s been fun and everything but I’m late for Junior-Varsity Extreme Ironing and then I have to start planning the Arctic Squirrel fundraiser.
“MOTHER! There is no such thing as an Arctic Squirrel!” Woeisme shrieked while continuing to kick Fig.
Bela flipped her hair again, “That’s why they need all the help we can give them,” she said like a pageant contestant and posed despite there being no cameras before she departed.
“Wait, I can’t stand to hold you back from your hopes and dreams that are so vital to this planet. Please, take my prized Maserati back to Sporks!” Vlad begged as he threw Bela the keys.
Everyone stupidly followed Bela to Vlad’s garage.
“Oh my goodness gracious, I’m so glad that you all are coming with me, I would miss you terribly.” Bela oozed, “Once we get back to Sporks we can all work to solve the illiterate sheep crisis. Did you know that 100% of sheep cannot read?”
Everyone gasped in shock.
“It’s horrible,” Bela continued, “But I plan to sell tinsel to fund a DVD, starring myself, where I will teach sheep to read!”
“That’s super Bela,” Jakob said, “I’ll be first to sign up and maybe we can go out later?”
“Oh Jakob, sure I will…when I’m available. But it might be hard because I have practice for Snowshoe Ballet 4 times a week, and then there’s Junior Bricklayers, the Paper Pusher’s Club and….”
“No! I can’t take it anymore!” Woeisme shrieked, giving Fig a resounding kick, “Jakob! WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE TOGETHER, YOU DON’T GET TO CHOOSE WHO YOU END UP WITH OR CHANGE YOUR MIND!!!”
“I’m sorwwy Woeisme,” Bela pouted like she was talking to an actual 4-year-old, “I know just how much you luuurved Jakob, but you need to move on. It wouldn’t have worked out-your children would be sparkly, googily-eyed, fanged furballs and that’s copyright infringement.”
“Don’t talk to me like I don’t know copyright laws! I am a 16-year-old 4-year-old!!! I’m going home!!!” Woeisme cried. She stood in the middle of the garage, sparkled for a minute, and shot like a rocket through the skylight.
“Remind me to start a collection for angst-ridden, melodramatic sparklepires,” Bela happily proclaimed as she hopped in the Maserati’s driver’s seat and everyone piled in.
Meanwhile, in Sporks, Edwood paused from scraping out the old grout in the tub; he held it in his hand and shut his eyes. The TV was blaring “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor-it was elimination time for the Drag Queens. But he wasn’t on the edge of his seat anymore.
“Dad! What’s wrong?” Something asked, “Why aren’t you paying attention, someone is going to get cut!” The front door slammed; Woeisme screamed nonsense at nobody and stomped upstairs to her room where she could have proper melodramatic and angsty inner monologues. Edwood opened his eyes.
“It’s me, I was cut,” Edwood said pensively.
“But Dad, you aren’t…” Something started.
Edwood got up and stared at Something in the lurid pink tub with a sparkle primer, that his love, his one and only, who smelled of circus peanuts and duck liver, had decorated.
“Finish the tub without me. I have to get your aunts and uncles.”
“Where are you going?” Something asked.
“High school. It’s sparkle time.”
Edwood ran to his room where he quickly changed clothes into his emergency black jeans, t-shirt, and hoody. His hair immediately quaffed itself into the perfect hairdo of a chiseled male model. Nay, better than a male model. He was on the verge of rivaling a demi-god or a really, really good looking guy. Despite all this, he kept his look of cool indifference. He charged down the stairs, into the living room where Argyle Sullen was busy playing videogames.
“Argyle, I have to go register for school. Where’s Alisse, Rosary, Kaspur, Umlaut?”
“Seriously, again? Why?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Is something happening? Like a plot?”
Edwood stared at Argyle.
“Maybe later, I’m busy. Your siblings are looking tragic at Hardees.” Argyle said.
Edwood grabbed his best sequined jacket and left. P
• 
This may have already been addressed…oh, how I hope I am not the first one…
Is there a way to access the RSS feed without Potato Moon? I love the idea behind it, but it’s like I’m subscribed to a Twilight fanfic site. No offense, but it’s just not my thing.
PAD, come back to us!
The answer is, Yes. It should be possible to pull PAD’s RSS feed without the Potato Moon posts.
You want to add this URL to your RSS client:
http://www.peterdavid.net/?feed=rss2&cat=-6
And that will give you PAD, without Potato Moon.
There was a lot of stuff I loved in there, esp. the “illiterate sheep crisis” and “Woeisme screamed nonsense at nobody” but my fav. has to be at the end with: “Edwood ran to his room where he quickly changed clothes into his emergency black jeans, t-shirt, and hoody.”
Is this about over yet? Or is it time to name this site “Potato Moon Extravaganza” and get it over with? I had zero interest in Twilight, even less in the rip-off author’s hare-brained cash-in, and even less than THAT in this whole “Potato Moon” business.
This is PAD’s site, and if this is what you want to do, that’s really all there is to it, but surely I’m not the only one who’s tired of coming here and seeing a haystack of “Potato Moon” entries and plowing through it to find a needle of something more akin to what brought us here in the first place?
*sigh*
Hey, it ain’t over till the fat lady sings. Which I would assume would come around Chapter 125.
More than that – I signed up two days after PAD made the announcement and I’m in the 130s somewhere.
Is it really so hard to scroll down to find what you’re looking for?
No, but neither is sifting through the dog’s droppings to get to your wife’s wedding ring. Just not appealing.
No, but neither is sifting through the dog’s droppings to get to your wife’s wedding ring. Just not appealing.
Except you don’t have to “sift through” Potato Moon. The posts are clearly labeled and easily ignored. I suspect you don’t want to ignore them, though, and are quite enjoying the act of unnecessarily raining on someone else’s parade.
If I wanted to rain on the parade just to be a prìçk, I would have said something long before now.
Edging up to 70 installments now, just seems like it must have run it’s course. If not, great for those that enjoy it, but can it get it’s own page at this point? If Potato Moon is still going THAT strong, I’d be inclined to think it no longer needs THIS page to get attention from those who are interested. Move it off to another page and get this site become lean and mean(ingful) again.
I guess all I’m really saying is Potato Moon is it’s own thing now. No, I don’t care for it, but I’m not on a crusade to stop YOU from enjoying it. I just want your Potato out of my peanut butter.
I remember around Chapter 45, PAD said we were about halfway done, so I figure the end should come before 100.
I confess I kind of stopped reading a while ago (honestly haven’t even read this chapter), because while many of the chapters were very good, I felt people were trying a little too hard to be funny, and let’s face it, trying to write comedy for PAD is like trying to do stand-up in front of George Carlin. Not everyone has the chops to pull it off, especially when you’re doing it for a master. Plus, y’know, if EVERYONE is doing comedy, it all starts to blur together after a while. That’s why I opted to play my chapter straight, just for a change of pace.
The next time we do something like this, I think it’d be fun to try doing a straight story… not to say there couldn’t be any humor, but the story would have to make sense, and not just be played for farce. It’d certainly be more challenging, but a challenge can be fun, since it forces people to really work their writing muscles.
That’s the thing, though, Steve: it’s not your peanut butter, it’s Peter’s. This is not a community forum, it’s someone’s personal blog. It’s not like he owes you content more in keeping with your interests just because you happen to enjoy reading his thoughts. I don’t have much interest in politics or bowling but I don’t care if he devotes space on this site to those topics.
.
Besides, it seems to me that it’s still pretty lean. Most other web sites I go to are terribly cluttered with stuff, the majority of which I ignore. Do you really read everything on every web site you frequent?
I hear you. I mentioned in my first post that it was PAD’s party here, there’s never been a misunderstanding on my part about that.
Just expressing my opinion for whatever it’s not worth. When I said your potato and my peanut butter, I certainly wasn’t claiming literal ownership of anything here, that should have been a given. 😉
Hmm – I wonder why Woeisme isn’t affected? Just because Bela is her mother, or is there another reason …
“Is something happening? Like a plot?”
Hah! Good line.