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Sam and Becky are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. Sam says to Becky, "Becky, I was wondering - have you ever cheated on me?"
Becky replies, "Oh Sam, why would you ask such a question now? You don't want to ask that question..."
"Yes, Becky, I really want to know. Please..."
"Well, all right. Yes, 3 times..."
"Three? Well, when were they?" he asked.
"Well, Sam, remember when you were 35 years old and you really wanted to start the business on your own and no bank would give you a loan? Remember, then one day the bank president himself came over the house and signed the loan papers, no questions asked?"
"Oh, Becky, you did that for me! I respect you even more than ever, to do such a thing for me. So, when was number 2?"
"Well, Sam, remember when you had that last heart attack and you were needing that very tricky operation, and no surgeon would touch you? Then remember how the doctor came all the way up here, to do the surgery himself, and then you were in good shape again?"
"I can't believe it! Becky, you should do such a thingfor me, to save my l ife. I couldn't have a more wonderful wife. To do such a thing, you must really love me darling. I couldn't be more moved. So, all right then, when was number 3?"
"Well, Sam, remember a few years ago, when you really wanted to be president of the golf club and you were 17 votes short..?" wow Power Leveling wow Power Leveling
Silent night Holy night Snowfall on this Christmas sight Love all around As we sing our Christmas cheer Sit around the tree Hands held high As the wind whispers a gentle Christmas sigh Gentle twinkling scattered about it¡¯s branches Snow gently falls We lift our faces to the sky Faces shine in a rosy glow Around and around we go Spinning twirling swirling in the snow The world is at peace tonight As love glows in a romantic¡¯s eye Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let your heart be light Forget all the world Be at peace tonight Let the warmth of the time fill you Snow fall covers all Have a happy Christmas all
It was my first day as newcomer to Miss Hargrove¡¯s seventh grade. Past ¡°newcomer¡± experiences had been difficult, so I was very anxious to fit in. After being introduced to the class, I bravely put on a smile and took my seat, expecting to be shunned.
Lunchtime was a pleasant surprise when the girls all crowded around my table. Their chatter was friendly, so I began to relax.wow power leveling My new classmates filled me in on the school, the teachers and the other kids. It wasn¡¯t long before the class nerd was pointed out to me: Mary Lou English. Actually she called herself Mary Louise. A prim, prissy young girl with a stern visage and old-fashioned clothes, she wasn¡¯t ugly -- not even funny looking. I thought she was quite pretty,wow gold but I had sense enough not to say so. Dark-eyed and olive-skinned, she had long, silky black hair, but -- she had pipe curls! Practical shoes, long wool skirt and a starched, frilly blouse completed the image of a complete dork. The girls¡¯ whispers and giggles got louder and louder. Mary Lou made eye contact with no one as she strode past our table, chin held high with iron determination. She ate alone.
After school, the girls invited me to join them in front of the school.wow power leveling I was thrilled to be a member of the club, however tentative. We waited. For what, I didn¡¯t yet know. Oh, how I wish I had gone home, but I had a lesson to learn.
Arms wrapped around her backpack, Mary Lou came down the school steps. The taunting began - rude, biting comments and jeering from the girls. I paused, then joined right in. My momentum began to pick up as I approached her. Nasty, mean remarks fell unabated from my lips. No one could tell I¡¯d never done this before. The other girls stepped back and became my cheerleaders. Emboldened, I yanked the strap of her backpack and then pushed her. The strap broke, Mary Lou fell and I backed off. Everyone was laughing and patting me. I fit in. I was a leader.
I was not proud. Something inside me hurt.wow power leveling If you¡¯ve ever picked a wing off a butterfly, you know how I felt.
Mary Lou got up, gathered her books and -- without a tear shed or retort given -- off she went. She held her head high as a small trickle of blood ran down from her bruised knee. I watched her limp away down the street.
I turned to leave with my laughing friends and noticed a man standing beside his car. His olive skin, dark hair and handsome features told me this was her father.wow gold Respectful of Mary Lou¡¯s proud spirit, he remained still and watched the lonely girl walk toward him. Only his eyes -- shining with both grief and pride -- followed. As I passed, he looked at me in silence with burning tears that spoke to my shame and scalded my heart. He didn¡¯t speak a word.
No scolding from a teacher or preaching from a parent could linger as much as that hurt in my heart from the day a father&rsqu
o;s eyes taught me kindness and strength and dignity.wow gold I never again joined the cruel herds. I never again hurt someone for my own gain.
This is a story of everyone « Result #4 on Mar 3, 2008, 12:30am »
A long time ago, there was a huge apple tree. A little boy loved to come and lay around it everyday. He climbed to the tree top, ate the apples, took a nap under the shadow... He loved the tree and the tree loved to play with him. Time went by... the little boy had grown up and he no longer played around the tree everyday. One day, the boy came back to the tree and he looked sad. "Come and play with me," wow gold,wow power leveling,wow power leveling,wow power leveling,evening gowns,wedding gowns,prom gowns,bridal gowns,Pet products,Dog carrier,the tree asked the boy. "I am no longer a kid, I don't play around trees anymore." The boy replied,"I want toys. I need money to buy them." "Sorry, but I don't have money...but you can pick all my apples and sell them. So, you will have money." The boy was so excited. He grabbed all the apples on the tree and left happily. The boy never came back after he picked the apples. The tree was sad.
¡¡¡¡One hot summer day, the boy returned and the tree was delighted. "Come and play with me!" the tree said. "I am sad and getting old. I want to go sailing to relax myself. Can you give me a boat?" "Use my trunk to build your boat. You can sail far away and be happy." So the boy cut the tree trunk to make a boat. He went sailing and never showed up for a long time. Finally, the boy returned after he left for so many years. "Sorry, my boy But I don't have anything for you anymore. world of warcraft gold,wow gold,Cheap WoW Gold,Cheap WoW Gold,nfl jerseys,ffxi gil,ffxi gil,ffxi gil,ffxi gil,final fantasy xi gil,final fantasy xi gil,final fantasy xi gil,final fantasy xi gil,world of warcraft gold,cheap world of warcraft gold,warcraft gold,No more apples for you..." the tree said."I don't have teeth to bite" the boy replied. "No more trunk for you to climb on" "I am too old for that now" the boy said. "I really can't give you anything ... the only thing left is my dying roots" the tree said with tears. "I don't need much now, just a place to rest. I am tired after all these years." The boy replied. "Good! Old tree roots is the best place to lean on and rest. Come, Come sit down with me and rest." The boy sat down and the tree was glad and smiled with tears.......
Dragons, mystical, fierce, dangerous, yet in their own way, beautiful. In all the colors of the rainbow, with some blacks, browns, greys, and even whites. Dina sat musing over these things as she sat on her window seat and finished the last detail on her drawing of a dragon. Slowly she got to her feet and crossed the room to her chest of drawers. She opened one of the drawers and pulled out her box of paints. "Now for the final touch." She sat back at the window seat, took her mixing pallet and brush and mixed sky blue with sea green, coming out with a dusky but pretty color. Taking her thin brush, Dina started painting the dragon's tail. I'll do the rest later, she thought to herself and settled back against the cool window. Suddenly she heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Thinking it was her mother, Dina quickly stowed her painting and drawing materials in a chest she always kept empty for such occasions. She grabbed a book and quickly sat back in the seat. Her mother strongly disproved of drawing, much less painting, thinking both to be a waste of time. She and Dina had argued over this point multiple times, so Dina took no chances of her mother seeing her doing either. Dina's twin brother had sympathized with her, so one cold winter's day he had taken her to the market, (neither of them were allowed to go out alone) they found a booth that sold paint supplies and everything else an artist's heart could wish for. So that's how it really began. Shag, Dina's twin brother, burst into her room, flinging the door wide and letting it hit the wall with a thud. *Shag, his face flushed from running, gasped for breath, but finally managed to get out what he was trying to say. "Dina! Balferlo is back! And he's brought back a...a dragon!" Balferlo is a famed knight in Sifardoth, the town where Shag and Dina live. He is every boy's role model, being both a kind man, and a fierce fighter in times of trouble. This time, he has just come back from the war in the south with the dragons who are terrorizing the people and the countryside around. Now, back to the story. Dina had sat up as soon a Shag came in, now she got to her feet and dropped her book; her eyes went wide and she gripped Shag's arm. "Are you sure?! Did you see it yourself?!" Shag's breath had by now come back to him. "Yes, Dina! I did see it. It's small, since it is yet a youngling, and an odd color. Deep red with a green tinge on its spikes, and it has eyes like amethysts! Come on, Dina!" Dina didn't hesitate for a minute; snatching up her cloak she was after Shag in a flash. Out in the streets it was all hustle and bustle. It being market day there were twice as many people than were usually out and about. Balferlo's return also added to the crowds. Dina tried desperately to keep up with Shag but she kept losing sight of him among the throngs of people clustered here and there. Dina saw Shag stop on a street corner and look back at her. "Come on Dina!" Dina hurried up to Shag and stood by, trying to regain her breath. "D...Could you slow down a bit, Shag? It's a real pain trying to keep up with you." "I could slow down. Why? Do you want me too?" He grinned at her then was off again, without waiting for her answer, but this time he walked a bit slower, eventually slowing down so much he was walking next to Dina. "See here, Dina," He gestured to the crowd, still a distance away. "It's going to be hard to get to the front of the crowd following Balferlo, so you're going to have to stick to me like glue." Dina nodded. They stopped at the edge of the crowd. Shag turned to Dina. "Remember, stick like glue." "Yes, Shag. I'm not a child to forget things that fast." Shag grunted and delved into the crowd, pushing between bodies and uttering numerous excuse me's. Dina followed at a slower rate, loath to push anyone. Finding it necessary to do so, she pushed past a lad of about her own age. "Hey there!" The boy grabbed her arm, not unkindly. "Looking to get up to the front are we?" He grinned, white teeth flashing in the afternoon sun. Dina nodded. "Yes, I was following my brother. But he's too fast." She stood on her tiptoes and looked over the people's heads. "I think that's him over there. He's probably looking for me by now, but..." The boy chuckled. "I think I know your brother. He's Shag, right? You look like him. My name's Cody, and yours?" "Dina." "Nice to meet you, Dina! Now, let's find your brother before he goes wild looking for you." Dina laughed. "Oh dear, that wouldn't be good! But it would be funny!" Cody sputtered with helpless mirth. "Oh, shut it, before I explode!" Dina smacked him. "Let's go before he faints from grief!" Cody's face turned bright red as he tried to contain his laughter; he finally gave up and gasped out, "V...very we...ll!" Cody grasped Dina's hand and pulled her after him. Dina was laughing so hard she got tears in her eyes, which, since she wasn't able to see through them, resulted in tripping over somebody's feet and nearly losing her balance. Cody wiped tears of laughter out of his own eyes and steadied Dina. "Careful! There are lots of people who wouldn't be too happy to have some wench trample their feet. I know from experience." He grimaced. Dina grinned. "You're a wench? I thought only girls were." Cody rolled his eyes. "Oh, whatever! I think that's Shag right there."
Re: The Magical Marshmallow « Result #6 on Aug 30, 2006, 2:25pm »
I love the voice this is written in. And the fact that it's a Pokemon fic. Even if I hate Spoinks.
Your word choice is refreshing, full of variety and it all flows together well. The way you write is a bit quirky; makes me want to keep reading... And the last four paragraphs are hilarious. Especially the bit about the Colloseum music. XD
The amputation with a tree branch bit is little wacky, but I think it works.
Re: Untitled as of now « Result #7 on Aug 30, 2006, 2:13pm »
This reminds me of a recent your momma joke I heard. "Yo momma's so skinny that her arms look like strings hanging out of her T-shirt!"
I liked the last half of the chapter, but the beginning seemed a little uneccessary. Maybe you could cut it down a little, dunno.
The dudes were a nice addition to the chapter. I think it's funny that this site changed the swearing into "nuts!" instead. XD The last line is my favorite. KEEP EM COMIN.
The Magical Marshmallow « Result #10 on Aug 27, 2006, 5:48pm »
First chapter, I guess.
The Magical Marshmallow
Everything was happy and swell in the Forest of Happilyhood...The Tailow were cawing, the elderly Pokemon were wheezing, schoolchildren were dozing...All would seem fine and comfortable to the average, seasoned passerby...
But it is excitement and adventure that young Pokemon crave most, and not peace and tranquility. So thus, on this fine day, our protagonist was left with nothing to do. He, a Spoink whose name has long ago been lost to the annals of history, was overcome with restlessness, boredom and a slew of other unconstructive emotions.
There was, after all, no one with whom to talk to or do anything with! The ones older than him were too caught up in their not being well and other arbitrary affairs, whilst the ones younger could hardly focus on looking at him and breathing at the same time for any period of time legnthier than a few minutes. The Pokemon throughout that vast void were few and far between, and our protagonist, whom we shall hereon refer to as Freiderich, generally regarded them as snobby and conceited.
So due to his undesirable predicament, he had developed the habit of conversing with himself. Because when there are no real persons with whom to socialize with, what better cheap imitation is there but one's own imagination? What could be better than spending hours on end exploring one's sane limitaitons?
But of course, there is a point where the possible liveliness with which one can talk with himself just...well, stops. There is only so long that one can talk to himself about premium steel-cut oats before pondering the possibility that amputating your arm with that sthingy over there would be a better option...
I wonder what I could do today...wondered Freiderich.
I could amputate my leg with that tree branch...said a voice, slightly higher than the previous one.
Hey that's a thought...wait, what the? GET OUT OF HEAD YOU INFIDEL! screamed Freiderich, knocking over his glass of beetroot juice in a fit of fear and trauma, the crimson liquid ambrosia staining the forest floor in a wonderful supernova of the brightest hue of red that Freiderich could imagine in that one point in time.
Here lies a rift in the continuity of our wonderful fable. We may only speculate of some of the events that served as the motivation for our tale. We may only guess the event that prompted our hero to his legendary acts of high adventure, the events having been eroded by time, fantasy and poor speechcraft, but it must have gone something like this...
Hey, beetroot juice...beetroots are red. And red starts with "R". "Rotten eggs" starts with "R"...Rotten eggs smell like gasoline, and gasoline burns as long as equal amounts of...marshmallows? MARSHMALLOWS!!!
The force of the revelation sent him physically reeling. An adrenaline rush, composed of half determination and half sugar, surged and saturated to the edge his whole person. He now had a purpose! An intention! A destiny that would manifest itself in front of him! He would find the Magical Marshmallow!
And so, with the courage and determination that one would find on a poorly directed soap opera, his face branded with the distinct hue of a champion, his expression one that would put the journeymen of looking stupid to shame, his brisk stride stirred on by the highest tier of cheesy Pokemon Colloseum music that could be afforded by the narrator, embarked the Spoink on an epic journey, one of gigantic proportions, one that would lead him to-
...about ten feet away. It turns out that he Magical Marshmallow is one of those fantastical legends that are in fact real, whose catchy name sticks but whose creators did not even have the decency to make up anything about. How thoughtless of them...
Scratching his head, Freiderich sat down on the stump of an undoubtedly once-mighty oak, and, in fantastic Winnie-the-Pooh style, began to think...
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