sublime2004

[size=1][b] OOC: I have noticed the severe lack of posts by Vendetti's character. So, incase you haven't noticed, I have replaced the RPer originally supposed to play him with Daermon_Nashabe. Now we should be able to get this going somewhere.[color=darkred] IC:"Don Vittorio." Songbird called over from the doorway. Vittorio turned from the window and looked at her. "Yes, Songbird?" he said in a low, calm voice. Not normal for him. "Sir, I believe I have found another...umm.." "Spy?" he offered. "Yes." she said tentatively. She was still nervous because of the reaction he had had towards his son earlier in the day. "It's alright Song. I've since settled myself." She let out a small sigh or relief. "Where did you find him?" "He was over at the bookkeeper's office searching through some old files." she revealed. "When we caught him there, he said he had permission from you yourself to be there." "Go on." The Don instructed. "I wasn't sure if he was telling the truth. So, I told him to come with me. And...he ran." "And?" "And he shot at us." "And??" he inquired further. "And Ronnie killed him." she was tense again. "Hmmm..." he thought for a moment as he sat back down at his desk. A bead of sweat formed along Songbird's hairline. "Sir, there was nothing I could do. He just opened fire and..." "It's alright Sophitia." she was still a little scared, "You did all that you could. And if I understand the story correctly, by the way he reacted it seems that he must have been a spy. You can go home now." "Grazie, Signore." she swiftly exited the room. He sat at his desk smoking his cigar for quite a while. How long is unknown. But, when he looked a the clock on the wall it read: 2:17 a.m.. "What did he think he could find at the bookie's place?" he asked himself. "He should know that I would never keep my files in a insecure location... We can't have someone so... inconvenient... still running around." At this he stood up, walked over to a closet in the corner of the office behind the door and opened it. Sitting on the floor was a plain, brown leather suitcase. He dragged it onto his desk and popped open the latches. He pulled out a shiny black stock. Next he pulled out what looked to be a mahogany butt of a rifle. He snapped the two pieces together and a machine gun's skeleton began to take form. He extracted several more parts from the suitcase and continued to snap, click and latch these pieces onto the weapon. He walked back over to the closet where he got the suitcase, but went to the top shelf and pulled down another box. This one was heavier. He pulled out a donut-shaped metal box and snapped it onto the gun. He cocked the gun and set it down on the desk. He pulled out a black vest and strapped it on then attached more of the circular clips to it. The ones on his left had a red label. The ones on the right, green. He threw the boxes back into the closet and slammed the door. He walked down the stairs that led to his office and walked to a table where a large group of his men were playing cards. "Ronnie." the man on the right side of the table jumped. "Get some of the boys locked and loaded. We're going after Vendetti tonight."[/color][/size][/b]

[CENTER][u][b][Control][/b][/u][/CENTER] [size=1][b][color=darkgreen] "There's got to be something to do today." I'm telling myself as I wait for the light to turn green. There were sirens coming from down the street.[/b] [i]Hmmmmm...This might be interesting.[/i][b] I think. A few moments pass until the stop-light changes, signaling me to continue.[/b] [i]Geez. What's going on here?[/i] [b] An office building is surrounded by three-or-so dozen police cars. Each of the drivers looking skywar, guns drawn. My question is answered by a speakerbox sitting on the dashboard of a blue and white cop car. "There's four of them on the 18th floor. Get there NOW!" A group of six men dressed in full SWAT garb rush the entrance. "Damn. This's gotta be pretty bad." I say aloud as I open my car door. The black surface of my hood burns my hand slightly in the blazing sun.[/b] [i]Crap! That hurt.[/i][b] I walk over to another person avidly watching the goings-on, "Hey, what's goin on?" I ask the squat, sweaty man. "Beats me." he tells me "I just got here. I think there's some fugitives or somethin'."[/b] [i]Maybe today's not a complete bust...[/i][b] "Get out. Get OUT. GET OUT!!!" the speakerbox blairs. BOOM!!! BOOM!! BOOOOM!!! Every window on the office building and some on the surrounding buildings shatter. Shards of razor-sharp glass and construction material rain down on top of me. "AHHHHH!!!" I scream because a piece of shattered copper pipe has impaled my right forearm. Instinct takes over and I rip it out. Blood spatters all over my gray T-shirt and blue jeans. My car has been all but demolished. I fall on my back. I'm laying and I now see someone standing on the 18th floor windowsill. Now two. Now four. They all leap simultaneously. "Oh God, no!" I almost vomit at watching people commit suicide. But they're not falling. They're gliding.[/b] [i]What the hell is going on?[/i] [b] The people who had jumped are now about twenty feet above the pavement and then suddenly regaining their lost momentum, crashing into the concrete with extreme force. Each leaving a crater spanning ten feet. I look back up to the 18th floor window to see if there's anyone else there. There is. A man. Just one, clean-cut and dressed in a black suit. He puts his hand to his ear and... Blackness... I wake up. I don't know where I am. I'm moving....fast.[/b] [i]What the f**k is going on?[/i][b] I try to ask but my mouth won't move. My eyes are messed up, somehow. Everything seems far away. There's a waterfall of green symbols. My highly impared peripheral vision seems to indicate I'm wearing sunglasses. I see that I'm running[/b] [i]I'm chasing someone....The people from the building.[/i][b] A black man, an asian woman, two white men. All dressed in leather.[/b] [i]Why am I chasing them?[/i][b] The white man with black hair trips. "Hadrian!" the woman yells after him and began to run back and pick him up. "Taren!! NO!" the other white man yells at the woman. The black man grabs hold of Taren's arm and pulls her on. I'm standing still now. I put a hand in my breast pocket.[/b] [i]Hold on. I was wearing a T-shirt.[/i][b] But that's not important now. What am I doing? Then I see. I am pulling a gun out of my jacket. I raise my arm and pull the trigger. I see the bullet leave the barrel and cause ripples in the air. It moves so slowly that I could almost catch it in my hand.[/b] [i]Why can't I stop myself?[/i][b] I ask myself as the bullet hits the fallen man in the shoulder. "Well, Mr. Bauer. I'm sure you regret coming here today." I spake. But it wasn't my voice. It wasn't me. I raise the gun once more.[/b] [i]Oh God! No! Stop it! I CAN'T DO THIS!!![/i][b] BANG Blackness... "There's got to be something to do today." I'm telling myself as I wait for the light to turn green. [/b][/size][/color]

[b][color=darkgreen][size=1] I personally enjoy them very much. They're not my favorite band of all time, but they're very close. I have just recently started listening to them. In fact, I'm listening to "Until It Sleeps" right now. I personally think I have one of the more objective views when it come to this band since I haven't really paid attention to them in the past. So, their so-called "tired" routine is completely new to me. I only have a few songs downloaded of theirs now including, but not limited to: "Enter Sandman", "Fade To Black", "I Disappear", "No Leaf Clover","Master Of Puppets", and "Unforgiven". I love all of the songs I have so far and appreciate the composition and execution of all of their music. I don't claim to know what songs belong to which album or when they came out, but I can only say that the songs are great. [/b][/color][/size]

[size=1][b] This is something that's rolled in the back of my head for some time, now. But I subscribe to the theory: Even if you do travel into the past, that nothing will change; That past events are inevitable. This isn't to say that I believe that my path is already laid out before me. But I know for a fact that it is laid out behind me. For all I know, a future version of myself has travelled into the past to try and change my life and failed. Or possibly succeeded. But I will never have a way of knowing for sure. I can only go on what I believe to be true right now. And that's all any of us really has. That's either extremely profound or extremely redundant. Either way: it's 4:28 a.m..[/b][/size]

[b][size=1][color=darkgreen] I've said it once and I'll say it again: The entire concept of celebrity is completely absurd, to me. That's not to say that I would mind hooking up with a few. heh heh heh. Anyway... hmmm... lemme think. Oh, yeah. I must agree completely with Unborn Lord Xion about Eliza Dushku. He took care of that for me. Beyonce' Knowles: Holy crap, she's hot. Her voice and butt are beyond compare. Jessica Simpson: She's stupid and has no talent. But...well...ummm...There's nothing really good about her but her looks. That's all I can think of right now. But, I'm positive there's more. [/b][/size][/color]

[b][size=1][color=darkred] "What in f***ing hell were you thinking?" Don Vittorio was irate. "What do you mean?" a young man replied. "That club you went to..." "Yeah?" he hadn't made the connection. "That was owned by Lina Kang." the pieces slid into place. "Oh, sh**." his face was flush. "No kidding." Vittorio backhanded the young man across the face, knocking the chair he was sitting in over. The young man was breathing heavily. "You're lucky she didn't kill you... No... you're going to wish she had." Vittorio continued to beat the man. "If you weren't my son, I would kill you myself." he sent another another fist flying into his son's stomach, "If she had realized who you were..." "Please, no." he pleaded as his father came at him again. He stopped for a moment and looked at the pathetic heap in front of him. "Get out of here." The young man gripped his sides and limped out of the office. "Sh**, sh**, sh**."he said to himself with each step. "Salvatore." the Don called to his son who looked back at him, "Do something like this again and I will [i]not[/i] be so lenient." His son continued on without another word. A few moments passed as Guisseppi brewed in his anger. "MOOSHINE! GET UP HERE NOW!" There was a rustle down the stairs of the warehouse office. "Yes, Don Vittorio?" She was in a sunny mood. Too sunny, in Vittorio's opinoin. But that didn't matter at the moment. "Get someone to tail Salvatore until he get's home to make sure he doesn't do something f***ing stupid again." "Got it." she left quickly.[/b][/size][/color]

[quote name='Mnemolth']Hmm... Quote threads are often a little obnoxious. Or precocious. Or both. As if we can reduce the complexities of life into a neat little phrase. Once upon a time T-shirts were actually pieces of clothing, rather than a form of expression.[/quote] [color=darkgreen][size=1][b] I like this one, despite the fact that it's completely inaccurate. Most of them aren't meant to reduce the complexities of life. But, rather to shed a ray of light on something that has touched the soul of whomever it reaches. If anything, this quote was obnoxious and precocious. But, hey... It's just my opinoin.[/b][/size][/color]

[b][size=1][color=darkgreen] I don't have any suggestions if you are doing a solo act. But, if you are doing a duet with a reasonably competent guitar player, I have the perfect song. "Rivers of Babylon" by Sublime. And a xylophonist wouldn't hurt either. (listen to the song and you'll know what I mean) It should be available on any music downloading software if you don't already have that song.[/b][/color][/size]

[size=1][b][color=darkred] "What did you think you would learn?" asked a burly man with a pitching wedge rhetorically, "Did you seriously think that I wouldn't find out?" he struck the man across the face with the golf club. The sickening crack that echoed throughout the warehouse told everyone that his jaw had been broken. "Songbird." he held out his hand and a woman handed him a pistol. The broken man, still conscious, struggled to free himself from ropes binding his wrists. As he saw the gun exchanging hands, he threw himself into a frenzy. Muffled screams escaped his locked mouth. Two men near the door rushed over to subdue the profusely bleeding man and hold him still. Don Guisseppi Vittorio pulled back his arm and knocked the man in the back of the head with the butt of the gun then kicked him in the ribcage. More bones cracked. "We have no choice but to handle this in a manner fitting to the crime." the woman called Songbird nodded slightly. The Don pulled back the hammer of his gun. He walked forward and placed the tip onto the man's forehead. The man's sobs were deepening. Vittorio stepped on the head of the pitching wedge and broke it off, leaving a long metal spike. He thrust this spike upwards into the doomed man's torso. Blood streamed from his nose and mouth. His eyes remained wide open in an expression of pure terror as he fell limp to the dusty floor. "Leave him on Vendetti's doorstep." he commanded one of the men who had held the prisoner down, "Leave a note telling him..." he thought for a short moment, "Thanks for the workout your friend offered me. It was quite... invigorating." Laughs bounced off the walls as they dragged the man away, leaving a trail of smeared blood. He and Songbird walked to the office on the other side of the room and shut the door. "This s**t will not be tolerated." he was furious, "Tell me, Sophitia: How did he get that deep into our ranks?" "I will find out as soon as possible, Don." she offered. "I will find every Vendetti spy in this entire family and dispose of them swiftly." "You had better." he pulled a fat cigar from his breats pocket and lit it. The smell of smoke filled the air instantly and created an ever-deepening haze. "You will have full authority over this investigation. You will bring any suspects before me. And, you will not kill anyone without my expressed permission. Is this clear?" "Perfectly, sir." [/b][/size][/color]

[size=1][color=darkgreen]"Why do you people always ask why? Oh, why? When [i]how[/i] is so much more fun."[b] -John Leguizamo as 'The Violator' in Spawn the movie. Another testament to the simple pleasures in life. Such as greed, lust and destruction. For some reason, this line just spoke to me.[/b] "Bang."[b] -Spike Spiegel [spoiler] This guy was so tough that he went out with a bang. Literally. This is how I imagine I want my death to be: bloody, bullet riddled and with famous last words. I almost cried when I saw it. I was all, "He can't be dead. He's f***in' [i]Spike[/i], for God's sake."[/b][/spoiler] "I must apologize for the lack of bloodshed in tongiht's program. We shall try to do better next time."[b] -Alfred Hitchcock There's no real reason why I like this quote. I just think it's funny. It's also a quite curmudgeonly accurate view of today's media.[/b] "The inner voice which warns us that someone may be looking."[b] -H.L. Mencken on conscience. I totally relates to me because I always used to get into trouble. And then, I started to learn the concept of conscience by asking myself whether or not I would get into trouble for doing something. It really didn't work all that well.[/b] "They smell and they snarl and they scratch; they have a singular aptitude for shreddinig rugs, drapes and upholstery; they're sneaky, selfish and not particularly smart; they are disloyal, condescending and totally useless in any rodent-free environment."[b] -Jean-Michel Chapereau on cats. I hate cats.[/b] "Do you know on this one block you can buy croissants in five different places? There's one store called Bonjour Croissant. It makes me want to go to Paris and open up a store called Hello Toast."[b] -Fran Lebowitz It's as close a sentiment I can come to describing my frustration with Starbuck's. Maybe if they didn't sell cow excrement and label it as coffee, I wouldn't have a problem. But, we don't live in a perfect world...[/b] "Only one more indispensable massacre of Capitalists or Communists or Fascists or Christians or Heretics, and there we are in the Golden Future."[b] -Aldous Huxley I will leave you with that. Think about it...[/color] BTW: I didn't copy and paste any of these. So don't give me crap about that. [/size][/b]

[size=1][b][color=darkgreen] It sounds to me like you have an allergy to salycilic acid (the main ingredient in most facial cleansers) Unfortunately, I have never seen a face cleaner that doesn't have at least some SA in it. I reccomend you stick to soap. I personally use that liquid gel stuff you get from bath and body works. Mmmm. Cucumber melon. Anyway, it works for me...[/b][/size][/color]

[quote name='Semjaza Azazel']It takes one shot to kill the world because it's all in your head. Basically, when I die, the world as I know it will end. Therefore, I don't really concern myself with whether or not some random crazy man will launch a million bombs or if zombies will rise from the ground and kill us all or if a virus will wipe out all life or a meteor will hit the earth. Most of it is unavoidable from where I stand. When it's gone, it's gone. It's not as if I'd still be alive to see it.[/quote] [b][size=1][color=darkred] You pretty much covered it for me. If the world blows up after I'm dead... what do I care? I'll be dead![/b][/color][/size]

[b][size=1][color=darkgreen] What I suggest you do is: Get a lockbox and lock your story inside. Get a cheap little padlock and latch it on. Throw away the key to somewhere that you'll never find it (I suggest an incinerator or the toilet.) But before you lock it away, get a tape recorder and keep it with you at all times. Then, once you have filled the tape with all of your random ideas for plots and characters, bust it open with a hammer and write them down. The reason I suggest throwing away the key is so that you won't get tempted to get it out before you have sufficient material to continue your story. I know that it may seem a little odd to force yourself to abstain from writing even when you have what seems to be a good idea. But, I have used this method many times. And, when I listen to my earlier suggestions for my story, my formerly brilliant ideas suddenly seem far-fetched and don't hold together well. But, then I have a chance to finely tune them to be what I really want in my story. [/b][/size][/color]

[b][size=1][color=darkred] We now only need two more to get this started. Anyone who is interested can sign up. Just a couple more people and we can get this off the ground. [/b][/size][/color]

[b][size=1][color=darkgreen] Smokey finished quenching smoldering bits of floorboard and collapsed on his LA-Z-BOY. "What the hell am I gonna do?" he asked himself, "This is un-f(unk)ing-believable." The now wet [i]and[/i] hot room was hazy with steam and smoke. Along with the smell of warm beer and ash, Smokey felt like he was going to vomit. His face was definitely a shade of green. "Cheer up, Smokey." chimed in Ayumi, "It could have been worse." "Yeah, man." told Shinmaru, "At least none of your stuff got," he looked around, "seriously damaged." "Yeah." he was about to cry, "But, what am I gonna do? Where am I gonna live?" "I think I may have a solution for you, Mr. McBurnout." someone said from near the door...[/b][/size][/color]

[b][size=1][color=darkred] Arguyle walked back over to the glass-like cat and pushed it back into its former resting place. The secret passage in the floor silently disappeared. He walked back over to the foot of the stairs and proceded to walk up. As he walked to his own bedroom, Arguyle stopped to check on Nina. She was still sleeping. Her breast heaving with strained breath. Her dreams were disturbing her. "There's nothing I can do now but wait." he told himself. Even with her nightmare, she looked peaceful being asleep. Arguyle went over to the door of his room and grasped the knob, but did not turn it. Instead, he walked back over to Nina's room and took a seat next to the bed. He sat there until noon, just watching her sleep. He felt something about her was different. Not just that she had hidden power -it was something else. For a fleeting moment, he thought it might be love. But, that was impossible. He was no longer capable of such trivial and inconsequential emotions. But there was an undeniable connection. As he pondered this, his eyelids progressively became heavier. It was much less easy to hold his head up. Then, Arguyle was asleep. He was back a the airport. The hunger was again tightening its grip around his innards. Then he saw her. She was walking alone. No one to greet her at the gate. Arguyle pursued the young woman out into the lot. She fumbled her keychain for a moment and unlocked the doors. He rushed forward and, in the blink of an eye, was inside the vehicle with her. She screamed as he lunged for her neck and he sank his sharpened teeth into her warm flesh. "Arguyle." Lilia's soft voice jolted him into consciousness. "It's dusk."[/color][/b][/size]

[b][size=1][color=darkgreen] I remembered something else. The disembodied sound of marching. Like, if a platoon was marching in on my position and I didn't have a gun or couldn't see them. Food poisoning: I hate the taste of puke and sickness makes me sick. Yeah... that makes sense... right? Getting chopped into bite-sized pieces. Having those bite-sized pieces eaten. China dolls: Stephen King shouldn't have written that episode of the X-files. Having my eyes poked out. Having my finger and toe nails ripped out. If I think of anything else, I'll post again. [/b][/size][/color]

[b][size=1][color=darkred] I have all four books (ShoGun vols. 1 & 2, Tai-pan, and King Rat) But I have only read King Rat so far. I liked, in particular, the struggle of how the inter-prison camp bureaucracy worked. No one liked King, but a lot of people needed him to make life in Changi more bearable. I like books with that type of conflict. I also liked how he kept your mind jumping from one thought to the other and back again while they were dealing with Marlowe's arm. Along with the need to sneak out for the money. And with the sale of the meat. All-in-all, I loved it.[/b][/size][/color]

[size=1][b][color=darkred] "Take her upstairs." he told Vixen without taking his gaze out of Lilias eyes. With a wave of consent from Lilia, she departed carrying Nina in her arms. "You should have waited until tomorrow to come here." Arguyle told her, "If you hadn't interupted my hunt, I would have food for her by now. And..." "And she would regain her strength more quickly. Yes, we know." Lilia was still slinking around. "And, now the sun is rising." he glided over to the leaden windowshade to reclose it as a beam of saffron light pierced a slit between the armor and the glass. "Why is she so important to you?" Lilia aske Arguyle. "I made her." he looked at her like she should have already known this. "There's no stronger bond than that. For me, at least." He walked over to the entertainment center, just to his left and turned on "Machine Gun" by Jimi Hendrix. Then he walked over to an obsidian statuette of a cat over to the right of the stereo and pulled it forward. A trap door opened in the dark gray marble floor, "You and your friend can stay here until sundown." he looked to the top of the stairs where Vixen had reappeared. "Then you will leave." "We'll see." Lilia took hold of Vixen's hand and lay her other on Vixen's hip. They both strolled down the metal staircase and Arguyle went back upstairs...[/b][/color][/size]

[b][size=1][color=darkgreen] "YOU BROUGHT ME TO A PARTY HELD BY A RECOVERING DRUG ADDICT NAMED SMOKEY!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! ARE YOU F***ING INSANE!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!" This brought clarity into Smokey's mind. "What the hell is going on." he remembered the gnomes. But he also remembered that he wasn't the one who started the fire. "Who did this?" he asked Shinmaru. "I dunno, man. I just got here." he looked at Kat, "We thought you did it." "No." he told them, "I saw the fire and I freaked out." A seriously grim look appeared on his face."We need to get everyone out." Surprisingly, all of the girls in the room were attempting to stay calm. It was the men who were screaming like babies. It wasn't helping anyone. Smokey grabbed a particularly muscular sissy and knocked him across the chin. The man fell to the ground and a group of girls dragged him out. Smokey's knuckles were red and throbbing. "A fire extinguisher. A fire extinguisher." he repeated to himself. "I don't have a fire extinguisher." "YOU DON'T HAVE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER?" another guy screamed like a schoolgirl. "Son of a *****!" Smoke raced over to the keg and began spraying down the small fires in the corners. "You!" he pointed to Shinmaru, "Grab the other one from my bedroom!"[/b][/size][/color]

[quote name='black bird']Ehhhh ....? Why do you think living in Holland is so hilarious ? That's the problem with you tourists , you think if you've seen two cities you have seen the hole country . Well I got news for you : not every city in Holland is the same as Amsterdam or The Hague . Sorry about that but it has bugged me a long time , don't take it personal . And yes Amsterdam and The Hague are in Holland . Pardon me for saying this but I think it's rather stupid if you go on a holiday and you don't even know in witch country you are . Anyway I don't know where you live most of you on OB are from America , I guess . I've never been there but it would be nice to pay it a visit some day . San Francisco seems a very nice city to me , very diverse . Wel that's al[/quote] [b][size=1][color=darkred] Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are? I was merely pointing out the fact that that I said that "Holland is screwed" and the coincidence that you lived there. How dare you overgeneralize and stereotype all tourists like you have just done. I toured seven countries in total, in just a couple months. So,[i]forgive me[/i] if I forget which one a particular city is in. I do believe that I mentioned that "It was a very long time ago and I don't remember much" considering I was only 8 at the time, sick as a dog and slept half the time I was touring Europe. So don't assume that I have no clue what I'm talking about, or that just because I was a tourist, means you have any right to call me stupid, or my foggy memory stupid. But, don't take it personal. BTW: About the whole sweet water thing... If all of the ice caps melt, and the earth will be so warm, wouldn't that mean there's gonna be more rainwater? I just read an article about a guy who's been bottling and selling rainwater, successfully, for 14 years. Think about it. [/b][/size][/color]

[size=1][b][color=darkred] For those of you who say that the gore was over done, you are wrong. If anything, it was under done. Jesus' body wasn't even recognizable as being human when they put him on the cross. People get this image of Jesus' crucificion as being this clean man wearing a thorny hat. Maybe a little blood running down his face. Maybe a cut or two on his back. And a three-inch scratch on his ribcage. Wrong. His flesh was hamburger. The blood loss alone would have killed him(if he hadn't been the Son of God). This isn't a movie. It doesn't need a plot. It doesn't need character history. It doesn't even need to be explained, other than that Jesus' love was unconditional. Even if you don't believe in Jesus, go into the movie with this in mind, and nothing will even need to be explained. And to anyone who compares The Passion of the Christ to The Lord of The Rings: there aren't enough words in my "Colorful Words" dictionary to express my anger at these statements. There is no way in hell that Christ's story could possibly be told, in full, and accurately in a movie theatre. It would take twenty movies to even come close to being completely accurate. It is said that if anyone were to document all of the miraculous and wonderful things that Jesus accomplished in his time on earth, there wouldn't be enough storage facilities on the face of the planet to house all of that information. You all are getting confused on one of the biggest points of this movie. It doesn't matter if it is true to the Bible. My faith tells me that it is true to God. And if you don't have any faith in God, I pity you. If you don't want my pity, you're just gonna have to deal with it. The prayer in the garden of Gethsemane (geth-seh-mah-nee) was all of the introduction this movie needs. God's tear falling from the sky was all of the closure this movie needs. [/b][/size][/color]

[size=1][b][color=darkred] This argument isn't about where we came from. It's not about simply being black, white, asian, or hispanic. It's about superiority complexes. Racists think they're better than anyone else. Do I think that racism will end? No. Because when "the races all become the same" it won't be about skin color. It will be about social status, or possibly even about genetic breeding. If you have read "[u]Brave New World[/u]" by Aldous Huxley, you'll know what I mean. Who knows. It may even be about how many windows you have on your house. But it won't stop. As long as people have emotions and personality defects, racism will never go away.[/size][/b][/color]

[quote name='Xander Harris']One word: Scorpions. I'm taking a trip to Mexico this summer, and am not too crazy about the idea of sharing a country with those things...[/quote] [b][size=1][color=darkgreen] Funny you should say this. I'm taking a trip to Mexico too. And, scorpions give the the friggin' willies. Here's a tip: If you catch one, DON'T throw it into the fire(if there is a fire). Or else, it will attract every scorpion for 50 miles. [/size][/b][/color]

[size=1][b][color=darkred] "Possibly." he told her, "But, I couldn't risk someone else getting to her before I did." he was now leaning on the door-jamb. "Why are you here, Arguyle." Lilia inquired. "This is my home, isn't it?" he now had a smirk on his face. "You damn well know what I mean." "I'm here for the same reason you are." they both glanced across the room. "the girl." Nina was getting angry. [i]'The girl, a girl with sleeping powers, her, she, it.'[/i] "I have a name, you know." is what she wanted to say. But before she could Arguyle acted. As if he knew, he shot a demonic expression at her and commanded: "Sit!" in a booming voice. She had no choice but to obey. Her knees buckled from underneath and she collapsed onto the armchair. "You never were much for insubordination, were you, Guy?" the smile disappeared from his face. "I told you never to call me that again," the grin was back. "Lil." [/b][/size][/color]