[tiragon]'s diary
Some really funny comics.
Apparently this wasn't allowed on my house, stupid fuckin guards.
The two of you, you know who you are, no need to mention names and let other people what's going on. I want to know what's going on in your guys lives, and just because i don't understand something doesn't mean i should condemn it, i hope you'll accept me, even though I am a complete fuckup sometimes.
Folllowing are a list of some of my favorite drinks. As you can tell they all have whiskey in them, that's because whiskey is the best! Anyone who doesn't like whiskey should die(even you chris!).
Whiskey Sour
1/2 ounce Lemon Juice
1/2 teaspoon Powdered Sugar
2 ounces Blended Scotch Whisky
Shake and strain into a sour glass. Garnish with a slice of lemon and a cherry.
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Snakebite
2 ounces Whiskey
1 ounce Lime Juice
1 ounce Club Soda
Mix together in a lowball glass over crushed ice.
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Cornwallis River
3 ounces Whiskey
2 ounces Lime Soda
1 ounce Lemon Juice
1 teaspoon Brown Sugar
1/2 teaspoon Sugar
Pour whiskey, lemon juice, and lime soda into a sour glass. Add the white sugar and stir. Add the brown sugar and allow to settle on the bottom of the glass to appear as the bottom of the "river." For a different look stir the brown sugar into the drink for a murky waters look. Serve without ice.
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Sex On My Face
1/2 ounce Whiskey
1/2 ounce Coconut Rum
1/2 ounce Southern Comfort
1/2 ounce Banana Liqueur
1 splash Cranberry Juice
1 splash Pineapple Juice
1 splash Orange Juice
Pour all ingredients into a Hurricane Glass filled with ice. Stir.
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Whiskey Cobbler
1 teaspoon Powdered Sugar
2 ounces Club Soda
2 ounces Blended Scotch Whisky
Pour sugar and Club Soda into a red wine glass and wait until the sugar dissolves. Fill with shaved ice and add blended Scotch whisky. Stir and garnish with seasonal fruit.
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Ward Eight
1 tablespoon Lemon
1 teaspoon Powdered Sugar
1 teaspoon Grenadine
2 ounces Blended Scotch Whisky
Shake and strain into a red wine glass filled with cracked ice. Add slices of orange and lemon and a cherry.
Written about Saturday 2005-03-26
Written: (7159 days ago)
The temperature of Heaven can be rather accurately computed. Our
authority is Isaiah 30:26, "Moreover, the light of the Moon shall be as
the light of the Sun and the light of the Sun shall be sevenfold, as
the light of seven days." Thus Heaven receives from the Moon as much
radiation as we do from the Sun, and in addition 7*7 (49) times as much
as the Earth does from the Sun, or 50 times in all. The light we
receive from the Moon is one 1/10,000 of the light we receive from the
Sun, so we can ignore that ... The radiation falling on Heaven will
heat it to the point where the heat lost by radiation is just equal to
the heat received by radiation, i.e., Heaven loses 50 times as much
heat as the Earth by radiation. Using the Stefan-Boltzma
radiation, (H/E)^4 = 50, where E is the absolute temperature of the
earth (-300K), gives H as 798K (525C). The exact temperature of Hell
cannot be computed ... [However] Revelations 21:8 says "But the
fearful, and unbelieving ... shall have their part in the lake which
burneth with fire and brimstone." A lake of molten brimstone means
that its temperature must be at or below the boiling point, 444.6C. We
have, then, that Heaven, at 525C is hotter than Hell at 445C.
-- From "Applied Optics" vol. 11, A14, 1972
Written about Saturday 2005-03-26
Written: (7159 days ago)
In case you needed further proof that the human race is doomed, here
are some actual label instructions on consumer goods:
On Sears hair dryer:
Do not use while sleeping.
On a bag of Fritos:
You could be a winner! No purchase necessary. Details inside.
On a bar of Dial soap:
Directions: Use like regular soap.
Some Swann frozen dinners:
Serving suggestion: Defrost.
On a hotel-provided shower cap in a box:
Fits one head.
On Tesco's Tiramisu desert:
Do not turn upside down. (Printed on the bottom of the box.)
On Marks & Spencer Bread Pudding:
Product will be hot after heating
On packaging for a Rowenta Iron:
Do not iron clothes on body
On Boot's Children's Cough Medicine
Do not drive car or operate machinery
On Nytol (a sleep aid):
Warning: may cause drowsiness
On a Korean kitchen knife:
Warning: keep out of children
On a string of Chinese-made Christmas lights:
For indoor or outdoor use only.
On a Japanese food processor:
Not to be used for the other use
On Sainsbury's Peanuts
Warning: contains nuts
On an American Airlines packet of nuts:
Instructions: open packet, eat nuts.
On a Swedish chainsaw:
Do not attempt to stop chain with your hands
The New York Times Monday September 2, 1907.
Spanks Son - Blown Up.
Mother's Blow Sets Off Cap in Boy's Pocket and Both Are Hurt.
CHEBOYGAN, Mich. Sept ? Mrs. Fred Williams, living at Bear Point, on Crooked
Lake, near this city was severely injured, and her seven year-old son was
probably fatally hurt when a dynamite cap in the boys pocket exploded while the
mother was spanking him.
The little boy had been out in the field where his father was using dynamite to
blow up stumps and had slipped one of the percussion caps which Mr. Williams
was using in his pocket. He returned to the house, where his mother called him
to be punished for some childish misdemeanor.
Mrs. Williams used a shingle as the instrument of punishment. The first blow
exploded the cap in the boys pocket, and the explosion tore a large hole in his
hip from which he is believed to be dying. The mother lost two fingers and
received a number of minor cuts about the face and body.
The following is a direct quote from the Center for Strategic and
International Studies report on GLOBAL ORGANIZED CRIME; the author who
introduces the story swears it's true.
FBI agents conducted a raid of a psychiatric hospital in San Diego
that was under investigation for medical insurance fraud. After hours of
reviewing thousands of medical records, the dozens of agents had worked up
quite an appetite. The agent in charge of the investigation called a nearby
pizza parlor with delivery service to order a quick dinner for his
colleagues.
The following telephone conversation took place and was recorded by
the FBI because they were taping all conversations at the hospital.
Agent: Hello. I would like to order 19 large pizzas and 67 cans of soda.
Pizza Man: And where would you like them delivered?
Agent: We're over at the psychiatric hospital.
Pizza Man: The psychiatric hospital?
Agent: That's right. I'm an FBI agent.
Pizza Man: You're an FBI agent?
Agent: That's correct. Just about everybody here is.
Pizza Man: And you're at the psychiatric hospital?
Agent: That's correct. And make sure you don't go through the front doors.
We have them locked. You will have to go around to the back
to the service entrance to deliver the pizzas.
Pizza Man: And you say you're all FBI agents?
Agent: That's right. How soon can you have them here?
Pizza Man: And everyone at the psychiatric hospital is an FBI agent?
Agent: That's right. We've been here all day and we're starving.
Pizza Man: How are you going to pay for all of this?
Agent: I have my checkbook right here.
Pizza Man: And you're all FBI agents?
Agent: That's right. Everyone here is an FBI agent. Can you remember to
bring the pizzas and sodas to the service entrance in the rear?
We have the front doors locked.
Pizza Man: I don't think so.
Click.
Subject: Re: 50 Fun Things To Do In An Elevator (fwd)
From: Toni Ralston <mgt@cruzio.com>
1. Make race car noises when anyone gets on or off.
2. Blow your nose and offer to show the contents of your kleenex to other
passengers.
3. Grimace painfully while smacking your forehead and muttering: "Shut up,
dammit, all of you just shut UP!"
4. Whistle the first seven notes of "It's a Small World" incessantly.
5. Sell Girl Scout cookies.
6. On a long ride, sway side to side at the natural frequency of the
elevator.
7. Shave.
8. Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside ask: "Got
enough air in there?"
9. Offer name tags to everyone getting on the elevator. Wear yours upside-
down.
10. Stand silent and motionless in the corner, facing the wall, without
getting off.
11. When arriving at your floor, grunt and strain to yank the doors open,
then act embarrassed when they open by themselves.
12. Lean over to another passenger and whisper: "Noogie patrol coming!"
13. Greet everyone getting on the elevator with a warm handshake and ask them
to call you Admiral.
14. One word: Flatulence!
15. On the highest floor, hold the door open and demand that it stay open
until you hear the penny you dropped down the shaft go "plink" at the
bottom.
16. Do Tai Chi exercises.
17. Stare, grinning, at another passenger for a while, and then announce:
"I've got new socks on!"
18. When at least 8 people have boarded, moan from the back: "Oh, not now,
damn motion sickness!"
19. Give religious tracts to each passenger.
20. Meow occasionally.
21. Bet the other passengers you can fit a quarter in your nose.
22. Frown and mutter "gotta go, gotta go" then sigh and say "oops!"
23. Show other passengers a wound and ask if it looks infected.
24. Sing "Mary had a little lamb" while continually pushing buttons.
25. Holler "Chutes away!" whenever the elevator descends.
26. Walk on with a cooler that says "human head" on the side.
27. Stare at another passenger for a while, then announce "You're one of
THEM!" and move to the far corner of the elevator.
28. Burp, and then say "mmmm...tasty!
29. Leave a box between the doors.
30. Ask each passenger getting on if you can push the button for them.
31. Wear a puppet on your hand and talk to other passengers "through" it.
32. Start a sing-along.
33. When the elevator is silent, look around and ask "is that your beeper?"
34. Play the harmonica.
35. Shadow box.
36. Say "Ding!" at each floor.
37. Lean against the button panel.
38. Say "I wonder what all these do" and push the red buttons.
39. Listen to the elevator walls with a stethoscope.
40. Draw a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to the other
passengers that this is your "personal space."
41. Bring a chair along.
42. Take a bite of a sandwich and ask another passenger: "Wanna see wha in
muh mouf?"
43. Blow spit bubbles.
44. Pull your gum out of your mouth in long strings.
45. Announce in a demonic voice: "I must find a more suitable host body."
46. Carry a blanket and clutch it protectively.
47. Make explosion noises when anyone presses a button.
48. Wear "X-Ray Specs" and leer suggestively at other passengers.
49. Stare at your thumb and say "I think it's getting larger."
50. If anyone brushes against you, recoil and holler "Bad touch!"
Title : Why cucumbers are better than men!!!!!!!
AREA:NZ_ECHO
Cucumbers are better than men because.......
The average cucmber stays hard for a week.
The average cucumber is at least 6 inches long.
A cucumber never suffers from performance anxiety.
Cucumbers are easy to pick up.
You can fondle cucumbers in a supermarket...
... and you know how firm it is before you take it home.
Cucumbers can get away any weekend.
A cucumber will always respect you in the morning.
A cucumber doesn't ask. "Am I the first".
Cucumbers don't care if you are a virgin.
Cucumbers won't tell other cucumbers you're not a virgin anymore. With
cucumbers you don't have to be a virgin more than once.
Cucumbers don't have sex hang-ups.
You can have as many cucumbers as you can handle.
You only eat cucumbers when you feel like it.
Cucumbers never need a round of applause.
Cucumbers won't ask:-
Am I the Best?
How was it?
Did you come? How many times?
A cucumber won't mind hiding in the fridge when your mother comes over. A
cucumber will never make a scene because there are other cucumbers in the
fridge.
No matter how old you are you can always get another cucumber.
A cucumber will never give you a hickey.
Cucumbers can stay up all night...and you won't have to sleep on the wet spot.
Cucumbers won't leave you wondering for a month.
Cucumbers won't tell you a vasectomy will ruin it for them.
A cucumber never forgets to flush the toilet.
A cucumber doesn't flush the toilet when you are in the shower,
Cucumbers don't compare you to a centerfold.
Cucumbers don't tell you they like you better with long hair.
A cucumber will never leave you for :-
Another woman
Another man
Another cucumber.
You always know where your cucumber has been.
Cucumbers don't have mid-life crisis.
Cucumbers don't play the guitar and try to find themselves.
A cucumber doesn't tell you he's outgrown you intellectually
Cucumbers never expect you to have little cucumbers.
It's easy to drop a cucumber.
52 Good reasons why Beer is
better than women
1. You can enjoy a Beer all month long.
2. Beer stains wash out.
3. You don't have to wine and dine Beer.
4. Your beer will always wait patiently in the car while you play football.
5. When your Beer goes flat, you toos it out.
6. Beer is never late.
7. A beer doesn't get jealous when you grab another Beer.
8. Hangovers go away.
9. Beer labels come off without a fight.
10. When you go to a bar, you know you can always pick up a Beer.
11. Beer never has a headache.
12. After you've had a Beer, the bottle is still worth 5 cents.
13. A Beer won't get upset if you come home with another Beer.
14. If you pour a Beer right, you'll always get good head.
15. A Beer always goes down easy.
16. You can have more than one Beer in a night, and not feel guilty.
17. You can share a Beer with your friends.
18. You always know when you're the first one to pop a Beer.
19. Beer is always wet.
20. Beer doesn't demand equality.
21. You can have a Beer in public.
22. A Beer doesn't care when you come.
23. A frigid Beer is a good Beer.
24. If you change Beers, you don't have to pay alimony.
25. You don't have to wash a Beer before it tastes good.
26. You can't catch social diseases from a Beer.
27. When you're interrupted by a Beer, it's for a good reason.
28. A Beer is always satisfying.
29. A Beer gets lighter the longer you hold it.
30. A Beer won't tell you it's pregnant for fun.
31. A Beer doesn't have in-laws.
32. No matter what the package, a Beer still looks good.
33. To cool off a Beer, all you have to do is put it in the ice box.
34. All you have to do to get over a Beer is take a leak.
35. Beer doesn't complain about farting.
36. The only thing a Beer tells you is when it's time to go to the bathroom.
37. You are never embarrased about the beer you bring to a party.
38. It's okay to leave a party with a different Beer than you arrived with.
39. Beer won't drive you to drink.
40. You can shoot a Beer.
41. A Beer chaser is easy to catch.
42. You don't need a license to live with a Beer.
43. A tree is good enough for a Beer.
44. Beer doesn't grow hair where it shouldn't.
45. Beer doesn't care how much you earn.
46. Beer and Ice don't mix.
47. Beer won't complain about your choice of vacation.
48. Beer doesn't care if you go to sleep right after you've had it.
49. Beer is happy to ride in the trunk of your car.
50. You never have to promise to respect a Beer in the morning.
51. Beer never complains about the wet spot.
52. You can put all your old Beers in one room, and they won't fight.
this is so fucking true.
You have passed your test, and are now deemed worthy to be known as a ... ...
Warlock
In the war between good and evil, your Wizardly self is rotten with the stench of EVIL.
You are gifted with the elemental plane of Air
These nasty wizards are always evil, no matter what. All good hearted humans detest the Warlockfast and the smart ones avoid them also. They carry scepters and staves (mostly scepters). They are users of the darkest sort of magic. Always wishing for revenge and a curse to those areound them. The Warlock specializes in the creation of undying minions and the summoning of extraplanar allies. Above all, this wizard craves power over others, reveling in the thrill of commanding obedient servants. The mindless undead, as unthinking and ever-faithful automatons, make perfect and unquestioning slaves that will shoulder even the most loathsome burdens without hesitation. The Undead Master enjoys dominating the feeble will of the living, subverting the dead, and controlling the fiendishly powerful.
Your powers are highly attuned to the elemental plane of air. Storms and the powers of the winds come at your beck and call. Sometimes a magic user tuned to the elemental plane of air has the power to fly at will, and infuse his living body with the powers of his element. Often mages of air will build their strongholds or magical dwellings in high places such as mountain tops or flying citadels high above the earth where they can be close to their element. Some of the more powerfull spells in your arsenal include Lightning Bolt, Desert Twister, and Divine Wind.
As some of you may have noticed I have ended my relation with you, that's because I havent talked to you in the past 3 days.
Yea i posted this before but it's so good it needs to be Reposted!
Top 10 Features in Neverwinter Nights
by Trent Oster, BioWare producer for Neverwinter Nights.
10. Gnomes. I hate gnomes. Hate hate hate. I’m and old school D&D fan, give me a solid dwarf, an agile elf, but keep the little people far away. I played an Ogre in EQ and got my ass handed to me by a little halfling sherrif. Man. It took me days to kill all the little buggers in the hills near the dark elf city. I’m gong to spend my days dedicated to hunting the little buggers in NWN anywhere I can find them.
9. Servers with no freakin Gnomes. Hate hate hate (I guess you read that already). In NWN you get to run your own servers, so you can specify the rules on the server you operate. Trent’s house O’ doom is going to be a great place. I’ll either ban the little suckers altogether or I’ll script all the NPCs in the game to kill gnomes on site. Halflings too. Heh, this game is going to be fun.
8. Prescripted Gnome massacres. I can set up an adventure on my server with a small village of gnomes happily going about their lives. When the players enter the village a massive force of Ogres will descend on the town butchering all the gnomes in sight. If the players remain ambivalent the gnomes are butchered, looted and the ogres retreat. If the players are goody goody types and rush in to help I’ll spawn in an even more powerful horde of nasties to wipe them out. Good clean fun.
7. Offensive Dialogue for gnomes only. In NWN I’ll be able to script NPCs to be downright rude to Gnomish characters (halflings too). The system will allow me to check the race of everyone walking by and my NPCs can descend on a party of Gnomes with righteous wrath.
6. Half Orc Barbarians. This is the good stuff. I played a Half Orc Barbarian in our internal 3rd Edition D&D Beta test. He could go through Gnomes like there was no tomorrow. Did I mention he hated gnomes and halflings?
5. Vault Characters. With my server set to only allow Vault characters there is no way any hopped up Gnome character can log in. So any Gnome loving player who hex edits his footstool of a character into a tough character can’t play on my server. I’ll only butcher and maim legitimate Gnome and halfling characters.
4. 20 Strength. You can’t beat 20 strength. The Half Orc race gets a +2 to strength, so the old 18:00 is gone and replaced with a 20. +5 to hit and damage. Woohoo. Lot’s O’ hackin goodness.
3. Fighter Feats like Improved Critical. This is a sweet feat and it increases the chance of a critical hit greatly. My Half Orc Barbarian makes an attack at the Gnome’s little melon. (Think home run swing) With a successful hit on a normal longsword (oh yeah, dual wielding) it takes a 19 or 20 to do a critical. With my handy dandy Improved Critical:Longs
2. Meteor Swarm. Now, I know this is a little beyond my Half-Orc as he’s about as smart at a stump, but there’s no faster way to take out a Gnome or Halfling village than a good ol’ Meteor Swarm.
1. Custom made items. Gnome Chopper and Halfling Basher. My Half Orc Barbarian’s two favorite weapons created in the NWN Toolset. Gnome Chopper is a +3 longsword, +5 vs Gnomes. It also Stuns Gnomes on a successful hit. The other weapon, Halfling Basher is a warhammer +4, +5 vs Halflings and Gnomes. It also does and extra 1d6 fire damage on impact. Another wonderful power is the silence 10’ radius is casts on bards. He he, what fun, flaming silenced bashed-in Halfling Bards.
Holy fucking shit this is HILARIOUS!!!!
Sex-Slaves of the Florida Suburb.
By JenH1976
Category: Humor
Fiction
Published: 15-Mar-2005
Views: 11
Rating: Professional
About The Author
Jen once heard that obsessions make for the best writing.
So Jen decided that she should create an obsession...
Unfortunately, bologna sandwiches are not the topic of many Pulitzers.
She is a top ranked author and is currently holding the #22 position.
She is an accomplished novelist and is currently at the #50 spot on this years rankings.
Portfolio | Become A Fan
--------------
Author Note: Shut up and read it already.
Warning: The author has noted that this contains strong language.
Warning: The author has noted that this contains strong sexual content.
I hit play on the answering machine and cringed at the abrasive New Yorkian accent blaring from the speakers.
"Hey. This is Mick and I'm quite interested in the "Sex-Slave" ad that you placed in the paper yesterday. I just faxed you my resume' and I wanted to make sure you knew that today is good for interviews. Call me at 555-077-3400"
I sighed and jotted the number down. Not exactly what I had in mind when I placed the ad. So far, I'd only received two responses, a homeless guy and this damn New Yorker. I was reconsidering my sudden desire to have a Sex-Slave. I read that it would be great for my self-esteem, but I seriously doubted if it was worth all this effort.
Mr. New York just sounded more like a Thaddeus the III than a Mick. I mean we're talking uber-white-bre
I checked my interview sheet, a checklist of qualities that I considered EXTREMELY important in a sex-slave. The Homeless guy really hadn't scored that bad, until he tried to eat my wax-apples. Even that wasn't horrendous; I gave him a half-check under "makes me laugh". It was the nose thing that really disqualified him. The Homeless dude, Brett, had blown his nose on my throw-blanket.
Now I can overlook personal hygiene. I can overlook manners. I can overlook tact, dignity, and all that shit, but I can NOT overlook snot.
I really didn't want to have to keep Brett-the-home
I took a deep breath and dialed Mick's number.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
"This is Mick."
I cringed at the Yankese.
"Hi, Mick. It's Jen."
"Jen?"
"Yes. Jen, you know, Jen H. 1976?"
"Is this about last weekend? I know I said I'd call, baby, but I got busy. How'd you get my number?"
"You responded to my ad?"
"Riiiiight! You're the sex-slave chick."
"I'm looking for a sex-slave, if that's what you mean."
"You sound hot, I'll take you."
"You mean you'll take the job, right?"
"Whatever. So, Jen, when are you going to be here?"
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. If he wasn't at least CLEAN I fully intended on flushing my head down the toilet. I spoke in Parentese, the lilting, cutsy language that new moms develop when they first have kids, I annunciated very clearly, "Mick,? Honey, I'm not coming to your place, you're coming to mine."
"Great! I'll be there in fifteen minutes!"
"Whoa, settle down there, Mick. Let's talk for a bit, get to know each-other. Why don't we consider this a phone-intervie
"Ok. What do you want to know?"
I grabbed his resume and a checklist from the coffee table. I scanned quickly, desperate for an intro-topic.
"Well, Mick, I'm highly impressed with your ability to sanitize a commode. It says here that you could eat off it! Gee! That's... something!"
"You know what they say, 'Where a man lays his ass, he calls home.' "
I squinched my face up a bit, "No, I've never heard "them" say that, actually I have no clue who "they" are. If I knew who "they" were I'd tell "them" that made not one lick of sense."
"Great! Should I head over?"
I put a check mark next to "Exuberant". Exuberance is a great quality in a sex-slave, right?
"Not just yet. Let's talk a little more. You're "tune-out ability" is off the meter."
"I have a teenager."
I put gigantic checkmark over "holler-at-abl
"Well, this is going well, don't you think?" I chirped, "But there's an area or two that I'd like some elaboration on."
"Do you always talk so much?"
"What?"
I could FEEL him grin on the phone as he switched to his version of Parentese, he annunciated VERY clearly, "I said, DO. YOU. ALWAYS. TALK. SO. MUCH?"
Hmmm, this could be a bad sign. A very bad sign. I thought for a moment that he was, perhaps, messing with me... then again, maybe he's just not too bright. Yeah, I'll stick to that! Not to bright is a good quality to have in a sex-slave! A VERY good quality.
"Yes. I talk a lot. I'm allowed. I'm not the one applying for a sex-slave position."
He laughed, didn't say anything, just laughed.
I continued, "As I was saying, there is an area or two of concern here."
"Like what?"
Oh yeah, he was grinning on the other end of the phone. Suddenly I was nervous.
"Under "lead-around-b
"Right. Is that a problem?"
"Yes. It is."
"Would you be so kind as to explain why?"
"My ad specifically stated that only beeyotches need apply."
"I'm qualified in enough other areas to compensate for that."
I put a HUGE red X next to "Thinks he's God's gift."
"Are you now, Mick? That's quite interesting."
"Yep. So I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
I sighed. This was my best candidate? THIS? Maybe I should just join a Jazzercise class or something to boost my self-esteem.
"Mick, I'm sorry, but I don't think that this is going to work. I'm looking for a beeyotch to mess with. I even have a preference for gay beeyotches. See, I'm worried that if we're watching TV and I jump into your lap..."
"See?" he cut me off, "I knew I'd be great at this! I'm not even there and you can't keep your hands off me! Damn! I am GOOD!"
"No, Mick, it's not that at all. I'm trying to do the whole "Let's be evil" thing. I just want someone to torture in a sadistically-g
"I've got something to feed it," he leered.
I sighed for the bazillionth time.
"Are you touching yourself?"
I really wasn't expecting that. The best I could respond was a yelping ,"WHAT?!"
"I heard you sigh, " he calmly explained, very slowly, very clearly. I had the strangest feeling that I was actually the mouse in this game, it was an unsettling feeling.
He continued, "I figured that you got so excited about my ego-feeder that you..."
"I most certainly am NOT!" I shouted!
"I call him Vlad."
"Are you for real."
"The Impaler."
"That is the worst line I've ever heard."
"What am I supposed to call my ego-feeder, Princess Priscilla?"
"I don't give a DAMN what you call it!"
"Don't call him an it. You'll hurt his feelings! Awwww, did she hurt you're feeling, Vlad? Don't worry, she'll kiss it and make it better."
"Are you talking to you... to yourself?"
"No, I'm talking to Vlad. Even mighty warriors get their feeling hurt, sometimes!"
"Shut UP! I am not the least bit interested in... "
"Oh, you're interested all right! You're VERY interested."
"I am NOT!"
"Yes you are!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Face it, baby, you want me!"
"What?"
"I can tell."
"My name is JEN, not baby, JEN. J-E-N. and I'd rather have a homeless person than you!"
"Whatever, baby."
I was seething at this point. What a wretched asshole!
"Mick, this conversation is over!"
"I agree. You really shouldn't talk so much. I'll be there in fifteen."
"No!"
"Ok, ten. I have a Ferrari you know, I should be able to make it there in ten."
"NO!"
"Yes. And when I get there you're going to put on the French-maid-ou
This was unbelievable! "For your information, I don't HAVE a French-maid-ou
"I took the liberty of picking one up for you. If you don't wear a six, then I'd suggest you start the Adkins diet ASAP."
"Y... y... you bought, " I stammered, "... you did... w... w... what? I mean, yeah, I do...WHAT? How DARE you suggest I... I... Why Adkins? Why not South Beach or Zone?"
"Because all you need on the Adkins diet is protein, and it just so happens that I have a convenient dispenser."
"Named Vlad, "I said drolly.
"You're not as dumb as I thought you were. That should make it a bit more interesting for me."
"UHG! You! You!... Uuuhhhh!"
"You're getting off, aren't you?"
I was too pissed off to complete a sentence at this point, "I am! You ARE! Oh my! I can't even! HOW DARE!"
"See?" I could feel that smarmy grin again, "You are!"
"Mick?"
"What baby?"
"Are you on crack?"
"Nope."
"Are you psychotic?"
"Nope."
I felt the need to sigh, but for some odd reason, I was afraid too. Go figure.
"Listen, baby, when I get there you should have the shower ready."
"You're not coming here."
"That has yet to be seen."
"No, Mick."
"I'll let you watch if that will get you out of this tiff that you've thrown yourself in."
"Watch what?"
"Me, taking a shower."
It dawned on me that Mick WAS screwing with me. He was just messing with my mind. There were no real-guys like this, not in New York, not anywhere. Once I came to that conclusion, the whole thing became hysterical.
"You're kidding me right, "I giggled, "This is a prank call, isn't it? Am I on Candid-camera?
"Nope. I like the sound of the whole sex-slave thing, and after talking with you for a bit, I think you'd make a fine one... in time."
"Sure, Mick" I laughed, "whatever you say. When is Alan Fundt coming out?"
"This may take more time than I thought, you really aren't the brightest crayon in the box, are you, Jen? That's not a quality that I require in a sex-slave, but it is preferred." His tone was almost... mocking.
I sobered up a little, "But you were supposed to be my sex-slave, Mick."
"Yeah, well, I didn't like that part. So I changed it."
I sobered up a lot, "You're serious."
"Yes. I am. Flexibility will garner those points you lost for being an idiot."
"This is not happening." I muttered.
His voice kinda went down a notch, got a little husky, and suddenly that accent wasn't quite so noticeable hideous.
"Face it, baby, you're a little filly in need of a set of strong-hands with a light-touch."
I shivered. I think I shivered just to spite myself.
"No. I'm going to forget that this conversation ever happened and sign up for Water Ballet."
"Say, yes, baby. I can whisper horrendous French to you while you rub my feet."
"Really?" I said, perking up a bit. Aw DAMN, what was I thinking. "I mean no! NO!"
"I can teach you how to knit on the balcony."
"I don't have a balcony," I stammered, oddly disappointed at the lack of said balcony.
"Purl one," he whispered.
I shivered again.
"Say yes, and when you decide to throw yourself at me, I'll let you skip to third in line."
"I will NOT throw myself... what line?'
"The line of honeys outside my door, all waiting to get a piece of the Mighty Mickster."
"Third? I'd be third? No way in HELL am I ever throwing myself at you! Why third?"
"I owe the breastfeeding-
"Ok. I can understand that. That's almost noble. Sick, but noble. So why not second?"
"You need to learn some patience."
"But I don't WANT to learn patience, "I whined.
"Is that a "yes", Jen?" He said, quite obviously bemused.
Here I was, arguing to get to the front of a line that I had no intention of ever getting into. Dali could have painted my thoughts, verbatim, at this moment, because they were beyond surreal.
"Ok, it's a yes. But only if get to be first!" I'll be damned if I wasn't pouting.
"I'll seriously consider your proposition while you're feeding me peeled grapes."
"Really?" I said, breath catching in my throat.
"No."
"Damn you!"
"Fifteen minutes. Shower ready. Oh, wear your hair down."
"I thought you said you could be here in ten?"
He laughed. Really laughed. It was a head-thrown-ba
"Hurry up already!"
"And you don't think you need that you need that lesson in patience? Ha!" He hung up the phone.
I sagged back into my couch unable to believe the complete turn-around.
'That bastard!' I thought, 'No way! No HOW!'
I sat straight up and said out loud, "He's a monster!" as I reached up, pulled my pony-tail-hold
I stood and marched into the bathroom, I was fuming! "A monster! A beast! I'm not going to answer the door!" I hollered at no-one as I sat on the side of the tub and turned the water on. "He won't do! Won't do a'tall!" the water warmed and I switched on the shower.
"Filly indeed!" I stormed, "Like I'm some kind of stupid-animal, just here for a ride!"
I heard the doorbell ring. I leapt up, raced out of the bathroom, to the foyer and flung the door open.
There he was, leaned up against the doorway, a devilish gleam in his eye.
"Hey, baby" he said, dropping a wink that made my knees buckle, "I brought you something."
In one hand he held a garment bag, in the other, a ball of yarn. I laughed and stood to the side, ushering him in.
"Hi, Mick."
'Just here for the ride, huh?' I thought as he purposely brushed past me, 'What a wild ride THIS is turning out to be.'
As I turned to close the door, he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Knit two."
I giggled and locked the door.
What a wild ride, indeed.
Holy shit, this thing is awesome, you should definitely try it out!
http://www.cru
Written about Monday 2005-03-07
Written: (7179 days ago)
Well, I just found out that my Aunt has breast cancer in her bone marrow and stomach. they are "hopefully optimistic", what bullshit is that? They are "treating" her and will find out if she WILL BE ABLE to recover IN 4 FUCKIN MONTHS!! How the hell am I going to be able to wait that fucking long? And what about my Uncle? What hell must he be going through? Goddamnit! sometimes life just winds up and shoves a rusty spiked bowling ball through your testes....FUCK
the fanatic <----My RPG I'm workin on, hopefully be up soon.
http://amalasw
A good friend'swebsit
I bought the Expanded Psionics Handbook for D&D 3rd Edition today, AWESOME!! so far