Weekly No Tellin’ Scribble Challenge, and last week’s winner…

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Last week’s scribble challenge asked you to write a “Dear John” letter in fifty words or less – much like poor Carrie’s infamous Sex in the City post-it note break-up. The entries just poured in. Four in all. The momentum is building.

While all of the entries were heartbreakingly sweet, Candace is the winner with her delicate “Stick a Fork in Me, I’m Done” break-up note. If you haven’t checked out her blog Crazy Texas Mommy, you must do so immediately before the Feds shut her down. Congratulations, Candace! Copy/paste the coveted No Tellin’ Scribble Challenge Winner blog badge over at your place so the Feds will know you’re no flower to be trampled underfoot!

I’m a day late posting results and a new scribble challenge. Forgive me. The dreadful tornadic weather and too much rain did something funky to my buried DSL line. Communication with anything but the neighbors has been spotty at best. The AT&T repairmen are cute though, and they can come on over any time they want to.

This week’s scribble challenge is a retrospective sort of shindig. There’s a special place in my heart for angsty, finger-snapping Beat Poetry, man. Dig? That’s the form, cats, and the subjects to choose from are the political race and Dolly Parton. You can even combine the two – sort of a country-music-meets-Wolf-Blitzer. With a goatee, man. To inspire you, I’ve got a little beat poetry from High School Confidential below. So go write something and post it in the comments or give us a link so we can find the poem on yours. Groovy.

3 thoughts on “Weekly No Tellin’ Scribble Challenge, and last week’s winner…

  1. I WON!!! You know this totally takes the sting out of the not even being honorable enough to mention on the other contest!! YAY!!I am sorry about the weather, but the AT&T repairmen are a nice bonus. YUM!

  2. TulipsElection time to waveThe colors and to taste theFreedom of those amber wavesThat blanket the veins of the steadfast decay ofMighty giants with the blackest of pitch justLike the blue of Dolly’s Smokey MountainsWhile there is black to usher change andA sister tooAnd masses praise the differenceThat no change can bring.A veneer of fresh to cover theMelted pot decay.

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