If you’re listening to this, congratulations! You survived Doomsday.I’d like to apologize straightaway for any inconvenience the end of the world may have caused you. The earthquakes, rebellions, riots,tornadoes, floods, tsunamis, and of course the giant snake who swallowed the sun—I’m afraid most of that was our fault. Carter and I decided we should at least explain how it happened.
Yes, an actual full-sized camel. If you find that confusing, just think how the criosphinx must have felt.Where did the camel come from, you ask? I may have mentioned Walt’s collection of amulets. Two of them summoned disgusting camels. I’dmet them before, so I was less than excited when a ton of dromedary flesh flew across my line of sight, plowed into the sphinx, and collapsed on topof it. The sphinx growled in outrage as it tried to free itself. The camel grunted and farted.“Hindenburg,” I said. Only one camel could possibly fart that badly. “Walt, why in the world—?”“Sorry!” he yelled. “Wrong amulet!”The technique worked, at any rate. The camel wasn’t much of a fighter, but it was quite heavy and clumsy. The criosphinx snarled and clawedat the floor, trying unsuccessfully to push the camel off; but Hindenburg just splayed his legs, made alarmed honking sounds, and let loose gas.I moved to Walt’s side and tried to get my bearings.
Dont act like you are walking around with a Tshirt that says "I give Up!" on the front and on the back saying "I never started trying!"People can bring you down, situations happen, YOU can feel like Life is the shittiest thing to deal with. BLAH BLAH BLAH..If you're walking through Hell, keep going! Everyday there's a new challenge. Face it! Deal with it! Move on! To every problem there is a solution or a way around it.. Stop being a sour mongral and think life owes you something..No one will do anything for you these days. Start fighting. Get rid of ALL the shit people in your Life. Grow some balls of steel and work progressively through everything. Step by Step or what ever mad method you have to get you back in line again.Who cares, if people don't like you, BURN that mother of a bridge down. It was never meant to be.. Build New ones! Many roads to cross and new paths on life to Explore..It starts with YOU.. And if people want to judge you, tell them to F/O and look in the mirror. Time for a new game.. It's called "Take over the World" WHOOOP WHOOOP!!
Religion is a totalitarian belief. It is the wish to be a slave. It is the desire that there be an unalterable, unchallengeable, tyrannical authority who can convict you of thought crime while you are asleep, who can subject you to total surveillance around the clock every waking and sleeping minute of your life, before you're born and, even worse and where the real fun begins, after you're dead. A celestial North Korea. Who wants this to be true? Who but a slave desires such a ghastly fate? I've been to North Korea. It has a dead man as its president, Kim Jong-Il is only head of the party and head of the army. He's not head of the state. That office belongs to his deceased father, Kim Il-Sung. It's a necrocracy, a thanatocracy. It's one short of a trinity I might add. The son is the reincarnation of the father. It is the most revolting and utter and absolute and heartless tyranny the human species has ever evolved. But at least you can fucking die and leave North Korea!
What’s not to love? I made friends with a pretty girl and now we get to plan a castle break in. This beats the day to day kill, eat and survive.
He’s close enough now that I can hear his footfall on the pavement, and I knowmy chances of outrunning him are slim. I’m practically in a full sprint, and mypounding heart is begging me to take it down a notch. I try to will my feet to keep pace with its beat; but I think it’s humanly impossible to run that fast. And then it dawns on me that my footsteps are the only ones I hear. Somewhere along the way, Tristan’s must have come to a stop. And I can’t quite explain why I’m running this fast in the first place. I slow to a jog, intending to just pick up with my original pace; but I can’t seem to suck in breaths fast enough to propel my feet any further. My molten shoes stutter to a stop, as my hands come to rest on my knees. I’m still wheezily sucking in breath after breath of thick, humid air, when I warily turn tolook over my shoulder.Tristan’s standing about fifty feet back, hands on his hips and a comp
He’s close enough now that I can hear his footfall on the pavement, and I knowmy chances of outrunning him are slim. I’m practically in a full sprint, and my pounding heart is begging me to take it down a notch. I try to will my feet to keep pace with its beat; but I think it’s humanly impossible to run that fast. And then it dawns on me that my footsteps are the only ones I hear. Somewhere along the way, Tristan’s must have come to a stop. And I can’t quite explain why I’m running this fast in the first place. I slow to a jog, intending to just pick up with my original pace; but I can’t seem to suck in breaths fast enough to propel my feet any further. My molten shoes stutter to a stop, as my hands come to rest on my knees. I’m stillwheezily sucking in breath after breath of thick, humid air, when I warily turn to look over my shoulder.Tristan’s standing about fifty feet back, hands on his hips and a comp
A question that always makes me hazy is it me or are the others crazy'Albert Einstein
So, am I too, like all other humans, just a rogue? Sure! Just a notch less than those rascals wearing godly robes.
I said to my friend, "Why do you smoke (cigarettes)?"He replied, "Because I like to put myself on the line for the welfare and safety of others."I astonishingly said, "Sorry, I didn't get your point."He replied, "I want a cigarette-free world. Therefore, I am trying my best to end all the cigarettes from the world.
ROSA MET ME at the door with a shotgun. Strictly speaking, not aimed at me, but you don’t really have to aim a sawed-off shotgun. She swung it toward me. “You, get in there.” She turned her attention to the crowd. “The rest of you will take a number and have a seat.” Her paperwork skills might have been lousy, but her personal touch was something I aspired to.
He done his level best.Was he a mining on the flat..He done it with a zest..Was he a leading of the choir..He done his level best.If he'd a reg'lar task to do,He never took no rest..Or if 'twas off and on the same..He done his level best.If he was preachin' on his beat,He'd tramp from east to west,And north to south ..in cold and heat..He done his level best.He'd Yank a sinner outen (Hades),And land him with the blest;Then snatch a prayer'n waltz in again,And do his level best.He'd cuss and sing and howl and pray,And dance and drink and jest,He done his level best.Whate'er this man was sot to doHe done it with a zest;No matter what his contract was,He'd do his level best...
If Yo Mama and Yo Daddy got a divorce, they'd still be brother and sister.
Yo Mama's like mustard, she spreads easy.
Yo Mama sucks so much d***, her lips went double platinum.
What’s the difference between Yo Mama and a 747?-About 20 pounds.-Yo mama carries more passengers.-Not everyone's been on a 747.
Yo Mama's like a library, open to the public.
Yo Mama's so fat, her ass has its own congressman!
Yo Mama's so fat her butt cheeks have different area codes.
Speaking of body decorations, I luuhhhvv your belly piercing!” Heeb said, looking at the gold ring in the center of her slim, tan waist. Despite the artic cold, Angelina had opted for a skin tight, black tube top that ended just above her belly, on the assumption that a warm cab, a winter coat, and a short wait to get into the club was an adequate frosty weather strategy. Heeb was still reverently staring at her belly when Angelina finally caught her breath from laughing.“Do you really like it? You’re just saying that so that you can check out my belly!”“And what’s so bad about that? I mean, didn’t you get that belly piercing so that people would check out your belly?”“No. I just thought it would look cool…Do you have any piercings?”“Actually, I do,” Heeb replied.“Where?”“My appendix.”“Huh?”“I wanted to be the first guy with a pierced organ. And the appendix is a totally useless organ anyway, so I figured why the hell not?”“That’s pretty original,” she replied, amused.“Oh yeah. I’ve outdone every piercing fanatic out there. The only problem is when I have to go through metal detectors at the airport.”Angelina burst into laughs again, and then managed to say, “Don’t you have to take it out occasionally for a cleaning?”“Nah. I figure I’ll just get it removed when my appendix bursts. It’ll be a two for one operation, if you know what I mean.
Now give me some advice about how to take full advantage of this city. I’m always looking to improve my odds.”“Just what I’d expect from a horny actuary.”“I’m serious.”Carlos reflected for a moment on the problem at hand. He actually had never needed or tried to take full advantage of the city in order to meet women, but he thought about all of his friends who regularly did. His face lit up as he thought of some helpful advice: “Get into the arts.”“The arts?”“Yeah.”“But I’m not artistic.”“It doesn’t matter. Many women are into the arts. Theater. Painting. Dance. They love that stuff.”“You want me to get into dance? Earthquakes have better rhythm than me…And can you really picture me in those tights?”“Take an art history class. Learn photography. Get involved in a play or an independent film production. Get artsy, Sammy. I’m telling you, the senoritas dig that stuff.”“Really?”“Yeah. You need to sign up for a bunch of artistic activities. But you can’t let on that it’s all just a pretext to meet women. You have to take a real interest in the subject or they’ll quickly sniff out your game.”“I don’t know…It’s all so foreign to me…I don’t know the first thing about being artistic.”“Heeb, this is the time to expand your horizons. And you’re in the perfect city to do it. New York is all about reinventing yourself. Get out of your comfort zones. Become more of a Renaissance man. That’s much more interesting to women.
I showed him the Post-it. “You see They’re from Lily.”“Who’s Lily?”“Some girl.”“Ooh... a girl!”“Boomer, we’re not in third grade anymore. You don’t say, ‘Ooh... a girl!’”“What? You fucking her?”“Okay, Boomer, you’re right. I liked ‘Ooh... a girl!’ much more than that. Let’s stick with ‘Ooh... a girl!
I have only touched one other computer at my friend Marissa's house, and found the experience disconcerting. There was something sinister about the green letters and numbers that flashed on the screen as the computer booted up, and I hated the way Marissa stopped answering questions or noticing me the second it was turned on.
You have heard about the reindeer that pull old Santa's sled. But mostly I hate Rudolph and wish that he were dead. With his nose of red which we all know just can't be true. I wish someone would just kill him, that someone could be you. He is Santa's favorite and to the front he can be found. Instead of his red nose, "I" think it should be brown. He believes that Santa likes him and thinks that he's a winner. But Santa Claus has other plans he wants Rudolph for his dinner. Old Saint Nick is greedy this I know without a doubt. What else do you think happens to all the great toys we go without?He takes them and he breaks them be cause he doesn't care a bit. To me it doesn't matter, Why, he can keep his "Schict".Yes' it's true that I hate Santa too, dressed in his suit of silk. That's why this year with the homemade cookies, I'm going to leave some poison milk.
Afternoon experience: autographing exposed legs, outstretched in lines like matchsticks. Afternoon epiphany: Those with smooth, hairless legs would soon lose all evidence of my contact when the sweat causes the ink from the marker to run. I am ephemeral. Skepticism would be the reaction to those with thick leg hair, as their curls frazzle the lines of my name outward illegibly. Among the scaly-legged, I flaked off immediately, like I never was at all.
Darling Daddy,Poor Saffy. She had a big fight in the boys toilets on Monday, did you know? A very big fight and Sarah helped and it was terrifying. Said a boy in my class who has a brother who was there.Saffy washed her hands and said Never Ever Never Dare You Touch My Brother. (Indigo). And the plug holes were blocked with hair.Love from Rose.-Sarah's mother has given us soup. Soup soup soup and then it was all gone.L.F.R.
I shook my head. “I thought you had a ‘No princesses’ rule.”“Rules are made to be broken,” said Grimm.Ari sat back in the chair, her eyes closed.“Of course, young lady, there’s the matter of how we sign our contracts.”“Not gonna happen.” Ari threw a pen at the mirror for emphasis.
Care to explain?” Ari asked.“Didn’t you see my signals?”“Yeah. But they didn’t make sense. Five into one and it’s an intrusion.”“It’s an illusion! Five of them are an illusion.”“That’s not the signal for illusion. This is.” Ari demonstrated the proper signal.“That’s what I did.”“No, you didn’t. You did a weird twisty thing with your pinky.”“I had a scimitar at my throat. I’d like to see you try signaling under those conditions.”-Janco and Ari bickering
Is this about what happened to you and the old Sector 7?” I asked with a growl of my own.His hands tightened their grip on my shoulders. “How did you know about that?” “Tabby-Chan told me.”“Freaking Meko-Chan,” Kuroi uttered, “I swear, that kid is gonna get it. What did she tell you, exactly?”“She told me not to tell you that she told me what you told her.” I realized what I said. “Oops.” ~Luna's POV, Clash of the Clans: Shinobi 7 Companion Book #1
I'd say," the Ranger answered after a few seconds' deliberation, "that he'll be heading south now that he has the chance. Back into Araluen.""How do you know that?" Horace asked. He was always impressed at the two Rangers' ability to read a situation and come up with the correct answer to a problem. Sometimes, he thought, they almost seemed to have divine guidance."I'm guessing," Halt told him.
Halt regarded him. He loved Horace like a younger brother. Even like a second son, after will. He admired his skill with a sword and his courage in battle. But sometimes, just sometimes, he felt an overwhelming desire to ram the young warrior's head against a convenient tree.