Ravenstorture

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]When my mother and I were living in Egypt, the people who were sitting our house back home mentioned that someone had moved in in the house behind us - a new blond chick with an Iranian boyfriend. We met our new neighbours three weeks later in a restraunt in southern Crete. They were on thier honeymoon.[/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]First of all, other people's goals I've already achieved: 1) Watch the Ring with out closing my eyes - took me three goes. 2) Move out of the house and support my parents - kind of, mum's moved out and i'm on my own, paying her rent. 3) Ride a roller coaster - Harlequin and I went on the largest freefall drop ride IN THE WORLD on monday, and it was horrible. Never again. Apart from that, we did the tower of terror - again, one of the tallest and fastest rides - fantastic. 38 storeys up, 160km/h, in this strange L shape... along, up, fall back down and along again. According to [url]www.dreamworld.com.au,[/url] it accelerates its passengers to a world record 161km per hour in just 7 seconds. *insert profanities here* 3) Find the "one" - or, to be more accurate, he found me. 4) Travel - have been to Egypt, Greece and the UK for a year. Will be travelling SE Asia in a year's time, with mum. My own goals... To not self destruct, keep doing my best at study and get my dream job - a forensic pathologist. Hold on to Harlequin. Another really nice little daydream I have is a few years into the future, third year med student, sitting down at my house and logging on to the ol' OB, an official veteran.[/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Malania was enjoying a clove cigarette with a local when she heard the shots. Glancing first at the place it sounded from, to appear normaly surprised, she then took a look at Katarina, a fellow tourist, who was trying on large banana leaf hats and posing for the throng of singaporian children laughing and dancing around her. She had heard it too. Thanking the woman who had shared her cigarette, Malania crushed it with her sneakered toe and asked a passer by to take a happy-snap of her and the woman just to keep up the image. By that time Katarina had "discovered" this "fantastic" looking alleyway that they just [/i]had[i] to check out. Once they were down there, outside the kitchen entrance, Katarina had lost whatever it was that facinated her.[/i] Malania: Well, if you can't think of something to take a photo of soon, people will start thinking we're not tourists. You know asians hate well dressed people who give the appearance that they're in the country for a reason [i]other[/i] than to spend heaps of money on crap... Katarina:...vat? Malania: Never mind. Think of something to do, and quick, or we'll get noticed. Katarina: By who? Malania: Hey, you and I have done exactly what those guys in zere are doing. If you were them, you'd send a scout. I know you're intelligent as all vatever, but don't underestimate them! Not now! [i]Katarina ditched the bright tourist gear and advanced on Malania.[/i] Kat: You know you get ze cutest accent ven you're stressed? [i]Malania thought to get even more stressed, but abandoned the idea when Katarina didn't stop advancing on her until they were pressed against the wall. Ripping off Malania's crazy sunglasses and camera, she kissed Malania's neck passionately just as a burly looking, well dressed man burst out of the kitchen door. Kat withdrew and looked pissed off, the guy smirked, looked down the corridor and swung back inside. [/i] Malania: Got damn you. And what makes you think that would work anyway? Kat: We're two sexy chicks. He'll not get ze sight out off his head all day, but somehow I don't sink he'll be alert enough link it to the attack. Malania: I'll give you that. [i]Redecking the absurd tourist gear, the pair stood comfortably against the wall, casually not feeling uncomfortable at all.[/i] Malania: Again? Kat: Maybe later.[/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]The room was pitch black when Malania awoke, and incredibly hot. She had crashed on the second bed and removed most of her clothing during the night, and still was covered in sticky sweat. Standing slowly in the disorientating darkness, she navigated her way over to where she thought the ensuite door was. Shin: a device for finding furniture in the dark. Using this device, Malania "found" Katarina's bed, and then "found" the open door. Sighing, she slipped through it and groped at the wall until the vent-cord was located. The thin stream of light shot through and illuminated the small bathroom, and Kat standing in the doorway. Malania jumped, surprised, and then embarrased. She was not in top-secret-agent mode this morning. Ignoring Kat's disapproving smirk, she stripped the rest of the way and half fell into the shower, turning on both taps equally and hoping it wouldn't result in a bad experience. Kat left the room after turning off the hot water tap in the shower, jolting Malania into her full, awake self. Five minutes later both russians strode confidantly out of the bedroom door, fully dressed, fully armed, and Katarina nursing a bruised collar bone. [/i][/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Destiny's child - survivor, independant woman... they can sing. And lately, Beyonce, Crazy for love or whatever - the one with the trumpets. Wonderful. My greatest shame was buying Sex and Violins by the Rednecks, and listening to it often. I then bought the mortal kombat album and forgot all about it... Kylie Minouge and Robbie Williams did a song called Kids and it is fantastic, I have the single. I'm also a sucker for crappy techno music. When I lived overseas for a year I got into some bad stuff - the german version of the Sailor Moon theme song - ask anyone, I still know the words, and sing it often. Although Christina Aguilera or blah blah whatever whatever is annoying as all crude profanity word, I unmute the tv when the ad for her cd is on. I'll edit this later, but for now, I'm for some reason acting like I'm not going to school tomorrow. Need to go to bed. [/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]OOC: I'm sorry it's crap, but I'm not in the mood for being alive at the moment. [i]Malania kissed Katarina softly on the cheek before vacating the room via the ventilation system. Finding it rather spacious was surpising, considering the shocking ventilation down there. After navigating the complex for a while, Malania found the security room, and lowered herself into it slowly, as not to wake the sleeping security guards. Quietly, she scanned the array of monitors, peering into various rooms in the building and finding nothing of interest. Her informer never mentioned why she would find her subject here - meaning they could move at any time, with no notice. Malania, suddenly realising she had forgotten to bug Katarina, smiled slightly. Seems like she was getting sloppy. Not bothering to use the vents again, Malania walked out the front door, and started down the street. She passed her informer five metres past the complex end - and completely ignored him. Any time now, and she was going to lose her job. Tut, tut. About ten minutes later, Malania woke up in a furnished office with russian flags on the wall, with a smashing headache. Her informer stood, seemingly infuriated, in the corner of the room. A large, old, bald man sat at the desk, napping loudly. Malania stood up and picked up an expensive looking ming vase on the desk, hurling it at the wall behind the man. It didn't wake him up, but it got a large gun shoved into the small of her back.[/i] Malania: Oh no, not my intestines!!! Informer: You disgust me. You disgust Russia. Malania: I don't think you can speak for all of it. Is that the Russia who's flag I just threw a vase at? Man with gun: Sit down, you English pig. Malania: Excuse me? English? Informer: Sit down, Ivan. [i]At this point in time the old man chose to wake up.[/i] Old Man: Malania, I understand that this is a difficult assignment for you, but think about your employer. Just because you don't like spying on your friend doesn't mean you can smash your boss's vase. Malania: Is that a metaphor? Old Man: It's a light tap on the shoulder. You're a good agent, and we don't want to lose you. Have some respect. Malania: Sorry about the vase, but I don't want to do this any more. Old Man: I understand. Listen, I'll cut you a deal. Three more reports, one a week/month depending on the level of action. Malania: Or? Old Man: Or we send you and your friend home in the same box. [i]Malania made sure the angry tears were wiped from her face before she showed it in public. Although she had a place to stay, Malania chose to go back to Katarina - if not for the company, but to bug her. Katarina would understand. After all, no secrets between friends, right?[/i][/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Malania slipped into the tight clothes with exhaled breath, filling the shirt brilliantly after months of baggy uniform shirts.[/i] Malania: Ah, that's better... Hey, have you got any toothpaste? I don't think I've brushed my teeth since I left Moscow. Katarina: Eew... Yeah, it'zin my bag. I'm sopposing you're vithout a toosbrush, also? Malania (smiling wickedly) : You bet. [i]Having found the toiletries bag, Malania attacked it, making full use of all the little practical things Katarina had stuffed in there. Including a tiny little GPS. Wonder what that meant...[/i] Katarina: So, my pretty, vat on earth bring'zyou to Singapore? [i]Malania finished brushing her teeth and tying back her hair and collapsed back on the beed - seemingly exhausted from the little escapade with the toiletries.[/i] Malania: You do. Kat: Veh? Malania: I'm acting as Mother Russia's eye... KGB want me to keep an eye on you. Kat: And you? Malania: I jumped at ze... the opportunity of course. I was so amazed I had finally been given the chance to see you again. As for the keeping the eye on you thing... Kat: Hmmm? Malania: Well, we'll see how things go. If your life is the high one, then I'll take that and the KGB can go do something nasty to itzelf. Itself. If you're not liking things... we ditch both industries and move to Bora Bora, ok? [i]Katarina smiled, tears welling at memories of childhood fantasies. Embracing her friend again, they both let the tears out, the feeling of solitude blissfully fading away.[/i][/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Malania, having snuck into this high security complex somewhat less than safely, was not happy about being shot at. However, a quick check of the damage to the door revealed that the person inside was the one she was after. Pulling out her own Yarygin, she placed her ear to the door for a moment or two and then stood back, aiming and firing quickly before her target moved. The person inside was identified as female by the surprised squeak that erupted from the splintered door. Malania pressed her eye to the bullet hole to check what damage had been done - lucky. Katarina - if that was her - had missed the bullet by a mere ten centimetres. [/i] Malania: You had better let me in now, Kat, becoss I'm going to aim a little better next time. [i]How long had it been now? [/i][/color][/font]

[font=gothic][color=darkgreen]Finally... sorry about that, Liam. Name: Malania Alekseyevich Side arm (pistols only): Yarygin. The information is above. Trained in: Languages, manipulation. Age: 17 Bio: Anyway, after the six month training period, Malania ended up as an internal security agent. Now, internal security agents in the KGB comprise about half the force, but this was a little more special. Malania isn't out to watch for corruption or anything like that....She's been ordered to watch Katarina. Everything that happens to her, she has to report. She was in Singapore before Katarina got there, and knows everything about everybody involved in the SYF project. Of course, Malania isn't exactly certain about how likely she is to actually go along with that, in fact a jump ship might be rather likely. Description: Malania is very thin, very pale, and rather attractively figured. She's tall, slightly shorter than Katarina. Unlike her friend though, she has jet black hair, a few inches longer than Katarina's. Other than that, they could almost be twins.[/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]First Name: Luci Age: 17 Hair Color: red, not brownish, real red - and natural, too. Eye Color: Blue Height: Honestly? At the moment, 57-58kg. Healthy, but thin enough to make the chairs at school uncomfortable. Wardrobe: Mainly black, op-shop, hippy clothes, but rather formal and elegant. Personality: Renouned for making insulting and inapropriate comments for a laugh. I'm pretty nasty, but well natured. Hair Style: It's thick, and just brushes my shoulders - every single day of my life for the last six years I have worn it in a bun with a black velvet scrunchie. Without fail. Favorite Music Type: Some melodies catch me as beautiful, a wide range of music has come under that catagory, and the rest is just heavy and loud enough to make me dance. I love that stuff too. Favorite musical Band/Artist: Too many to name. I love filter, Marilyn Manson, Jimmy's Chicken Shack, chemical brothers, alanis morisette, tool, soundgarden, and heaps of others like it. Hobbies: Reading, writing, thinking far too much. The main thing about me is that I hate this ******* place - I hate humanity, I hate people, I always have and I always will. I am an existentialist, and am existing under duress. Oh, and did I mention I'm an ocnophile? [/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Tsuke wandered lost and angry through the streets until the light died and leaked into the stormwater drains, heavy with blood. Tired all of a sudden, she was struck with a sudden sense of sadness - no warm, furry body to curl around at night. Well, she thought, looking around her, she supposed a furry body wouldn't be hard to find in this mess. A warm one, however? Perhaps a little more of a challenge. Yelling to her right. She turned to her left with an angry sigh. She wanted to be as far away from all this as possible... closing her eyes, she imagined the point exactly on the opposite side of the earth. It happened to be rather below sea level, and a coral reef - a touch of sunlight filtering through and making the coral glow. Ah, what bliss... the warm breath of the sea air on her back... ...Wait, sea air doesn't smell like that. Turning around, Tsuke was incredibly unimpressed to see three large, angry demons standing behind her. Walking back a couple of paces, she shed her coat, kicked off her sneakers and jumped into the air just as they pounced. Feeling gravity take hold, she grabbed at the force and threw her soul into it, increasing the theoretical weight a thousand fold, enough to drive her pointed toenails into the demonic armour-plated shoulders below and into his lower chest cavity. Scissoring her legs, the demon exploded, knocking the other two back as her legs continued apart. They stood, and Tsuke was on the ground, ready for them. One ducked and went for her legs, the other morphed into a winged serphant and darted at her face. Thinking almost too slowly, she semi-lunged forward, kicking her legs up and forcing her body into a horizontal position in the air. She landed on the lower demon, but avoided both attacks. She lay with her back pressed uncomfortably on the hard, knotched armour of the demon's back as he lay under her astounding weight. She lay still, watching the serphant coil into the air and position itself above her, probably for a kamikaze mission at her chest. Well, she was flattered, but heaps of other guys had tried that one on her before. Sure enough, the demon flexed it's teeth outward to face down and freefell, growing at an alarming rate. Tsukeume lay very still, willing herself with everything she had not to move. Not yet, not yet... now. As soon as she felt the breath on her skin, she rolled quickly to the left, reaching around with her arm and clutching at the demon as it fell. As soon as she touched it, however, she transferred the weight, the demon suddenly plowing teeth first not only into the other demon, but deep into the asphalt. Relocating a sneaker, Tsuke felt her blood boil as she tipped the carnage out of the expensive shoe. Everything within a five metre radius of the oversized pothole was coated in a thick layer of blood and pulverised flesh. Thinking of the new, white and chrome shower she had intalled a week before the carnage began, Tsuke sat at the edge of the hole and dangled her feet in, throwing her head back and swearing very, very loudly.[/i][/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Arranging the heavy coat around her shoulders, Tsuke looked about at the chaos of her neighbourhood. It being relatively middle class, people had clued up and shipped off pretty quickly, and so as the place was deserted, she figured no demons would be around either. Closing her eyes, she raised her vision to the skyline and scented out the closest blood clot of fear in the city. It was to her left, so she turned right, and walked into the street she found to be littered with rotting corpses. The crows were feasting, and she smiled slightly, imagining them thinking, "Finally! That'll teach you for not throwing me the end of that pie you didn't eat last thursday in Lavazzo's..." Oh, what a warped mind she had. Walking happily along the ruined and deserted street, she heard gunfire to her northeast - guessing about four kilometres away by the echo. Try as she might, her angelic nature could not resist the temptation to stick fingers in pie and she followed the sound, her wings shifting uneasily under the thick, black weave. She didn't want to get involved, but hey, she lived on earth. She could go up to heaven and say, "Let me in! I want to have a word with god." But god would look at her and say, "Do I know you?" No, it was stupid thinking she wasn't alone in this. Angel or not, she was not on their side. A child's seemingly unmarred corpse stared at her from propped up on a lamppost. "No," She thought, "I'm not on your side either." [/i][/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]This rpg has no room for me... Oh well, I don't take up too much space. [i]Tsukeume sipped her coffee and took in the semi-entertaining veiw of east london. Better than it was yesterday, because not only was there less to see, there was a bigger hole to see it out of. The whole back of her apartment block had fallen away, and taken the better half of her kitchen with it. Tobias, her fat, black tom cat, was very displeased. The food cupboard was full - but now it was seven stories too far away. Tsuke was fine with it because it meant less washing up (no sink) and the coffee machine was in tact, she now kept it in the laundry. A knocking at the door. Tsuke smiled as she unlocked the door and opened it - her apartment was open to the world and she still locked her front door. On the other side of it was her friend Sarah, a short blond who never had enough time for anything but complaining about being busy and rushed. Sarah appeared to have been shot in the thigh.[/i] Tsuke: Come in, Sarah. I'll dress that for you. [i]Sarah gasped and collapsed on the floor - Tsuke didn't know how she got up the stairs, and it wasn't very practical to use a lift in an unstable building. Then she remembered that the electricity was down, as half the wiring was gone, but as it didn't apply to her, she had forgotten. Calmly kneeling next to her friend, Tsuke felt her pulse and felt it die. Sighing, she went to the task of going through Sarah's stuff - there must be a reason why she climbed seven flights of stairs with a gaping wound. The reason was not found in her handbag, but standing in the doorway. A woman dressed in Givenchy holding a snooty little dog stood there. Tobias eyed the dog hungrily.[/i] Woman: Get up, you pathetic whore. Don't stand in my way, I don't have time. Tsuke: (standing) And who might you be? Woman: Hareil. Angel of the Third order. Make me a coffee. [i]Tsuke turned red and went to make a coffee for the Angel who Didn't have Time for Coffee. A confession that only the lord knew - Tsukeume hated the Higher Order. After being an underdog of the heavens for six thousand years, she was sick and tired of making coffee for angels a third her age and experience, just because they kissed the right cheeks. Tsuke was a spy for heaven - she had been placed on earth for an indefinate amount of time to live a human life, writing reports every month and sending them back to base. Ever since the written word was invented, she'd not seen or heard from another haloed soul. Until today. [/i] Hareil: So I've been sent here to tell you what's going on. I've got a lot to do today so I'll be brief. [i]Not brief enough to stop Tsuke realising the temper - being sent out to talk to the lowest of the low was a severe insult. Third order wasn't that high, but it was high enough to get snooty about.[/i] Ok, basically, Mephisto, Diablo, and Baal are out - and killing everything. As you can see, they're doing a good job of it, so angels - any angels - have order to trigger man's second essence to help fight the battle. Angels are very outnumbered, you see, and - Tsuke: Second essence? Hareil: Yes, basically you envoke their back up strengths. You've been around a while, you should know what I'm talking about. Tsuke: I know what you're talking about, but I'm just surprised. Wouldn't we save that for the apocalypse? Hareil: This is the apocalypse, my dear. Tsuke: Oh... [i]Looking out the gaping hole in her home, the veiw suddenly looked a little brighter.[/i] Hareil: So, you know what to do? Any questions? Tsuke: Why? Hareil: Why what? Why help? Why not? You're an angel, aren't you? Tsuke: I don't really want to be, but I've never been asked before. Hareil: ...right. Well, I don't really care what you [i]feel like[/i], you've been given orders, so you have work to do. I've got to go, you're number 34 in 987 that I need to see today. [i]Hareil stands to leave and calls for her dog, which has wandered off. Tobias is no where to be seen, and Tsuke smiles to herself. A paralell in nature is to be found today...[/i] Hareil: Pookie, where are you? Tsuke: You know what I hate? Hareil: Excuse me? Go look for my dog. Tsuke: I hate people who think that their better than me because they have a better title. I hate you. Hareil: Why are you saying this? [i]Tsuke walks forward calmly, staring this angel in the eye. She knows god is watching, and she doesn't care. God watches, but never sees. And after millenia of not being seen, she is beginning to take advantage. Moments later, Tobias emerges from the bedroom, looking fat and dragging something in it's mouth. The hind leg of a dog. He looks up to see his keeper with something in her mouth, the face of a woman, who jerks suddenly and then goes still. His master's face, coated in blood, looks satisfied. She has copied him in his evil ways, and for someone as holy as her, this satisfies him greatly. Hareil's rich, magnificent aura seeps out through her mouth and into Tsukeume through the eyes, as the woman's body goes limp and crumbles into damp ashes. On the downside, 987 angels will have to find out the hard way about what's happening to this world. On the upside, Tsukeume is hundreds of times more powerful, and finally ready to use it. On her way to the bathroom to wash her face, Tsuke kisses Tobias goodbye. The magnificent feast he has slain for himself is now no comfort as he sees his love walk out of the new door and drop, black wings spreading and waving him goodbye. A quick look in the bedroom reveals that she didn't forget her trenchcoat... the knowledge of the last glimpse of her drives him to such depression a cat has not known before.[/i][/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]No thankyou, Unknown Son of Deity. Name: Tsukeume (japanese for pickled) Kenkyusha Race: Angel Sex: Female Appearance: Completely ordinary in appearance - asian, long, black hair, but apart from that you can't pick her out of a crowd, and if you meet her once, it's not likely you'd remember her in a lineup. No distinguishing features, average height, wears modern clothes. Black wings concealed under trenchcoat. Bio: An angel, has been on earth for many hundreds of years, regular duty. Keep an eye on the people, basically. Nearly forgotten by heaven, and so was uninformed of the immenant apocalypse. Lives in London and keeps a life as a human, her many human friends don't know she's an angel, she had a nice boyfriend but he found out her identity and she had to kill him. Upset by that greatly, and as a result, has started to feed her cat more expensive food. [/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Well, I only saw a few episodes of Family Guy and I was completely hooked. It was only on for a few months though, but that's how things go on chanel seven. That's right, australian television. Well, I loved family guy, and immediately put it higher than the simpsons on my list, but that's not to say I love the simpsons too. I honestly can't say what it was about FG that I loved so much, and it was a while ago, but there were a few things I remember that just made me scream with laughter. When the head guy flicks out the picnic mat a couple of times and gets mashed by the bull - that hurt. I got bad stitches from laughing at that when I saw it. Another thing I remember is an episode where I think they were at a carnival and they met this guy... he might have been famous in real life, I don't remember. But this guy kept darting around the screen, it was hilarous... both of those things include quick graphics, I wonder if that's a coincidence? Anyway, I didn't see enough of Family guy, which was dissapointing. But I loved it so much. Simpsons can get annoying, there are some episodes that are so good you don't care watching them again and again, and there are some you just have seen enough of. My favorite simpsons charecters are Snake, the comic book shop guy, and Duff Man. Every bit they are in amuses me greatly. Both are very clever shows, I don't know why Family guy is my favorite, perhaps it's a bit more cutting edge. Who knows. Give me more family guy and I'll see if I can work it out. [/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Of course I'm going to go see it, but I'm not looking forward to it. Number one was good, looked forward to number two, saw it once, it was ok, saw it twice, it nearly made me sick. Bad effects, too many corny lines, completely massacred Tolkien's masterpiece. I'm not looking forward to number three, but I'll see it, and I think it will be fun the first time around. I hope it's better than the last one, that's for damn sure. They had better lay off the crap humour and make better use of the fantastic literature the piece of work actually is. It's a work of art, and it's being served as if to idiots. I know it appeals to a larger audience, but please people, we're handling a masterpiece here - be careful. [/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Well, the bit I liked about it was that nearly all the charecters are from a famous piece of literature, so when it's all weaved together in that story, you get the effect that all those stories are true. Gives it more credibility. Like, the vampyre woman being the wife of the man who killed Dracula, and Dr Jekyll needs no explanation, the story of the invisible man fit in too, and there was the famous tale of Dorian Grey, same with Captain Nemo- they were all around at the same time, and since no one who saw the movie will be from that time, it makes it seem like it could really happen. The Mr Hyde Plus was a little disgusting, and some lines were too corny for my liking, but apart from that, no little details annoyed me. Generally, however, the movie was enjoyable but I definately wouldn't go see it again. Worth it once, not twice. Perhaps in a few years or so. I'd give it a two and a half out of five, if that's anything to compare it too. [/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]I find that the way to a teacher's heart (if s/he actually cares about what they're doing) is to get the message across that you're not just there to fill in your lines. If you are unhappy about the grade, you should tell them. "Excuse me, I was wondering if you could give me a few pointers on how to improve in this class." will be impressive, because it's not always obvious. And in my experience, teachers are always happy to pile on the work. More work is terrible to deal with, but I find that the angrier your workload makes you, the better you turn out in the end. When I started highschool a while ago, in year 8, my mother would punish me when I did something wrong by making me ask for more homework. Year 8 was the only year I ever did any homework, and I've been in the top 2% of my grade for three years now. I'm starting to do a bt more homework now, but that's because we're getting dangerously close to things that actually count. And my grades have fallen... but that's just the jump from year 10 to 11. (I'm in Queensland, remember, highschool's from 8-12, same people, same place, whole way through.) They say it's bigger than the jump from year 12 to university. What was I talking about? Oh yeah. Well, last semester, I got my very first C ever. It was a C10, a very high C, bordering on a B, but it tore me apart inside. Fortunately my teacher knew me very well and she talked to me about it after class, telling me it was about time I started struggling, here's a new chapter of the textbook you need finished by the holidays. Thanks a lot, miss. But I'm more confident now. As for the participation thing, you probably need to speak up more. Quiet people aren't seen as 'participators'. If you know the answer, volunteer it, if you don't, put your hand up and take it easy if you get it wrong. It's humiliating as all hell, but your teacher will appreciate you trying. Unless they're a bad teacher, of course, which is always possible. Well, I don't know if any of this can help you because you're in america, but I'm generally known as an outstanding student by the teachers at my school, and that's even after a history of inappropriate sarcasm in essays, public displays of affection with my significant other, and various illegal piercings. Oh, and I hate catholics, and go to a catholic school. So I'm not completely without use in this area. PS If all else fails, take some naked photos of yourself in various poses and stick them in your teacher's message box at school. Chances are your marks will either improve significantly, or you'll never see them again. [/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic] Of course! How could I forget this one? A woman was relaxing after an intense nine hour period of labour when the doctor walks back into the delivery room with her baby. He walks towards her, the baby in outstretched arms, when all of a sudden he trips and the infant flies out of his arms and smacks into the wall, sliding down the plaster in a bloody trail onto the floor. The woman stares, shocked, thinking she must have imagined it. The doctor, however, walks over to the baby, picks it up by a leg, looks at it, whacks it against the wall, and when it does nothing, throws it out the window and wipes his hands on his coat, muttering, "Well, that was a waste of nine hours then." The woman begins to scream, shrieking and losing her breath at the outrageous sight she has been witness to. The doctor, looking amused, walks to her bedside and begins to laugh. "Haha, April fools! It was a stillborn!" It's gags like those that make me want to become a paediatrician.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic] [color=darkgreen] Ever wondered what the Downlands Otaku Crew get up to when they're together? Well, here it is...[/color] [size=2][center]BABY JOKES!![/center] [color=crimson]Warning[/color][/size][color=darkgreen]- if you have any regard for human life, try not to read this post. Seriously, these ones are incredibly twisted, and I take full responsibility (not blaming anything on the rest of the DOC, that is.) I do not in any way support any of these actions, I realise they're sick, but enjoyable when you don't take them seriously... please don't take it seriously... Yes, I'm female, and my womb is functional... Thanks to Jesus Chicken, Mrs Berzinski and Micheal BBQ for this extrodinary cache of disgusting jokes. But they're my favorite.[/color] [spoiler]How do youy get ten babies in a bucket? With a barmix. How do you get them out again? With corn chips. How do you get one off a clothesline? By hitting it with a shovel. How do you find one in long grass? With a lawnmower. (Personally, I use a combine harvester - saves time.)Why's it easier to mass-move babies than golf balls? Can't shovel golf balls with pitchforks. Why would you shovel babies with pitchforks? So you can tell which ones are alive. What's the difference between a headless baby and a whiteboard marker? You don't get strange looks when you write with whiteboard markers. What's more fun than feeling up a dead baby? Feeling up a dead baby with three nipples. What's purple and spins round and round, tapping on the glass? Baby in a microwave. What's the difference between a baby and a trampoline? You take your boots off before you jump on the trampoline. What can a blind, deaf quadraplegic baby get for it's birthday? Cancer. What's funnier than a dead baby? A dead baby in a clown costume! What's blue and yellow and sits on the bottom of the pool? Baby with slashed floaties. (thanks Lilac Oranges) What's green and yellow and sits on the bottom of the pool? Same baby, three weeks later. (Um, my leaf catcher's gone missing?) Why can't the baby get through the door? It has a javelin through it's head. What do you call a mangled baby hanging on the wall? Art. How do you make a baby run faster? Chase it with a lawnmower. How many babies does it take to paint a house? Depends on how hard you throw them. How many does it take to wallpaper a room? Depends on how thinly you slice them. (the beauty of those two is you can use anything - blonds, politicians, etc). What gets louder as it gets smaller? A baby in a trash compactor. Getting nastier now... What's red and silver and runs into walls? Baby on a bullbar. What's brown and gurgles? A baby in a casserole. What's red and white and sits in the corner, getting smaller and smaller? Baby with a vegetable peeler. What's red and white and screams? A peeled baby in a bag of salt. (I know, that one's not even funny. But I laughed.) What's more fun than stapling a baby to wall? Ripping it off again. [/spoiler] There are some that are much, much, much worse... but I'd be surprised if I don't get into trouble for posting these. [/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]I've always had a habit of yelling out really strange, random stuff at people - and I rarely get one I repeat, so I can't tell you some of them. I think the latest one was at the pub this evening, I got bored with whoever I was talking to so I just said "Ground and/or chopped liver." As if it were a erply to what she was saying. She got up to go to the toilet and didn't come back... pays to have friends who know you somewhat to stick around. But the icing on the cake, and one I'm proud of (piromunkie can verify, he was there when I first created it) and I say it often, is "Well, that's just fine, but don't come crying to me when your father mows his way into the wrong side of MC Hammer Land." I actually said it in the presence of Flynn's dad once - if he weren't driving, he would have given me one hell of a strange look. Kind of depressing I missed out on it. On the same note, I tend to bring up the subject of MC Hammer far too much than is probably healthy, expecially in Biology class. Strange co-oinky doink that we recently did a prac in biology that involved ground and/or chopped liver? Perhaps, but only Jesus Himself can tell. And now for something probably quite similar...[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Well, firstly, when my great aunt mabel died she was in the middle of writing up the family tree - they found out when they were going through her stuff, they being close family. My family is huge, and 98% of it lives in england. A tiny bit of it lives over where I am, Australia. Anyway, when they found the family tree they continued it, hunting stuff down and whatever, and when it was done, they sent a copy to my grandmother, who lives in my town. We had a look at it and turns out one of the guys on the opposite side to us had a name that sounded familiar to my uncle - he checked it out, it's the bass player in the Red Hot Chillie Peppers, I don't know his name. So I'm related to him, distantly, on my grandfather's side. My mother and her siblings used to hang out with sean connery on the beach in Blackpool when they were little, and nanny sat next to Patricia Routledge in school. Apparently heaps of family members have worked in Buckingham Palace throughout the years, but that's probably because they all lived in the area. My family also has a history of nursing - [i]apparently[/i] my aunt Meryl once treated Mel gibson in hospital and they went out for a while, but Ol' Aunty Meryl is a bit... you know. And my grandfather once punched John Cleese in the face, and kicked Margaret Thatcher in the leg. I think my grandfather's on the same planet as Aunty Meryl... Oh, and if in a few years you hear of a prominent Australian Politician called Lauren Feehly, she was my best friend for about eight years. As my mum says - for every famous person there's someone who sat next to them in school.[/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic] the lips twist a cigarette flares in the cold night and a rush of breath decends in smoky caress of warmth down neck and veil she bends and tail lifts my eye to water, the lumps in her spine tingling me all over she is adjusting the strap on her stiletto my mother calls out and falls hard to the dirty ground a splash of blood and her makeup smears on the wall she flails right in the stomach, not hard to miss... the offender runs off yelling deseverance the ground tilts black wall slaps my back hard and i'm breathing, it hurts, my ribs blaze as i pull her smoke into my own lungs her lungs slow, giving in already a red rose blooms so quickly on her swollen stomach, fed by my tiny little sister inside a stem of blood slips down and worms into the ground to grow stronger it sucks the life out of my mother and sister and throws it on the floor selfish [/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]cummingitis if it made you sick. Since it's lingual, I'd more say cumminglingus. Haha, I hope all you youngin's stay blissfully innocent of that comment. The last two poems, thin in shape, definately point out a relaxing flexibility of poetry - you don't need it to be large and bulky to fit as poety. If it flows, and pleases the soul, it's poetry. Rather like symbols of the creatant mind - Paul Klee, "Symbols comfort the spirit," and "Nothing replaces intuition." I love it how a story can be told in a poem, but you're only given glimpses of the scene, and you fill in so many blanks with your imagination. Every person's interpretation is different, another flexibility. You've inspired me, and I'm off on a poetry writing spree. If I find one I like, I'll send it to you. Oh yes, HC, it's so like you to go and do one better all the time. You've got a point there. [/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]My best friend homeschooled until I was in year six, and then she began at my school because she saw I was having fun. We've never been in the same class, and she went to a different high school to me, but she's a prefect now, and doing very well. Her brother and sister did the same, sister starting in year 4 without knowing how to read, brother starting year seven and doing a uni IT course during year 12.[/font][/color]