marbar

A very nice story. I quite enjoyed it. I liked the reference to oranges, original and rather effective. I lost the topic a bit, though, in the description of the detective. Overall, good job, an excellent little story.

I'm not really afraid of death or the dark, only two things really scare me. 1) Birds. Any type of bird. I would just be walking along and suddenly, a whole flock of pidgeons would fly at me. I swear, birds don't like me. They must sense fear. Its rather embarassing at the coast when I hide behind people to get away from sea-gulls. 2) Goannas. I saw this Japanese game show where this guy had meat hanging from his helmet and had to stick his head in this glass compartment with goannas. It scared the hell out of me. I can take crocodiles and alligators but goannas *shudders*

I guess I'm kind of a nice guy. I'm rather hesistant to take the title due to the overwhelming achievements of THE nice guy in my school, Liam. Despite my sarcastic comments and general mean-spiritedness, there's a sliver of 'nice' in me.....somewhere. Sure, nice guys might usually finish last in the high-school dating scene, but they win in life. I believe that no relationship is better than a shallow one (if only I would listen to my own advice). I prefer a girl-friend to a girlfriend anyday.

That was very good Lady A. I agree, it was very flowing and smooth. You clearly established a(good) idea from a very ambiguous topic and didn't rush the story to fulfill the 'dream'. Nicely done.

Name: Lelos Dreynac Race: Half-elf Class: rogue/archer Alignment: The good ol' Axis of Evil Weaponry & Armour: long bow, throwing daggers and a quarterstaff Description: Lelos always wears her skintight leather, dyed various hues of green and brown to blend in to the forest. She has fair skin, blue eyes, long moss-green hair, pointed ears and a devilish attitude. Bio: Born of a male human and female elf, Lelos was brought up by her mother's people. Yet she always remained somewhat apart; her wicked humour and disregard for others alienating the peaceful elven folk. She would spend hours practising her archery and stealth, ignoring her mother's pleas to contribute to the elven society. Finally when 25, on her adulthood trial, her request for acceptance into the tribe was rejected by the chief elder. In one swift movement, she drew her dagger and deftly threw it into his throat. She was banished from the forest and wandered the human lands as an assassin. One job required the murder of Cloricus, King of Serenia. After weeks of planning, she attempted the killing, making her way to Cloricus, knife drawn, ready to slice his throat. But before she could make the final stroke, she was immobilised. The necromancer turned around, but instead of killing her, he seemed impressed with her talents, offering her the job of Commander of the Royal Battalion and Royal Covert-Operations Officer, which she of course took. [i]i know, the bio is long and its still ****, but it'll have to do.[/i]

I just want to know the two times that Liam has lied. But seriously Liam, knowing you I strongly doubt that you lied about that marines thing, but I'm interested, How did the press find out? Did a marine leak it to them? ('cause the driver couldn't vouch beyond a doubt for what happened) How did this story survive long enough to be broadcast on national tv? Surely, if the marines (or their officers) would do such a thing, they wouldn't let it get out. And, was there any evidence of this happening? [b]Notice Gokents that I'm asking questions instead of just denying it flat out. Hopefully this will stop Liam ripping in to me. Something that he seems all to capable and willing to do.[/b][i]*ponders for a moment*[/i] [b]Liam, join debating!!![/b] I believe that no matter the reason/s (which I believe aren't all that honourable), war with Iraq is a no-no. For Australia at least. Chances are Saddam's going to attack USA just because they keep bugging him. Seriously Bush, deal with your own country, you're not the world's protector. Sorry that this isn't a what you would call an intelligent post, but it gets the job done.

I hate rude people like that. One time, I did work experience and it was only my second day. I was stacking shelves and I had to go past the hardware department. There was a woman standing at the desk right next to a "Press for service" button (which, of course, she never pressed). When I went past, she was really angry saying, "Finally, it's about time someone serves me." I just smiled and asked if I could help. She replied, "You better be able to!" and asked me some detailed question about differnet types of paint. I said that I was sorry, but I didn't know. So she yells, So what's the bloody good of ya!!" Okay, she might have had a bit of a wait, but that was plain rude.

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by butterfly [/i] [B]i think that i am going to become a hermit over the next two years [/B][/QUOTE] Is our butterfly going into her cocoon? Sorry to all those I laughed at with the ladder joke. Its mean to pick on those so OBVIOUSLY of lower intelligence than you.

*laughs at all those below him on the ladder* (ie. Liam,Cloricus,Enigma) My plan - work damn hard in 11 and 12 (physics, chemistry, two maths, english) Get an OP of 1 or 2. (fingers crossed) Go to UQ, studying a Bachelor of Science and maybe Medicine later. Become Dr. Marbar and defend myself against malpractice suits.

The leader of that Rael movement had an interview on a 'foot-in-the-door' news program here yesterday. It was SOOO funny!! The host just demolished him, making him say that he was the brother of Jesus and confonting him about people losing the millions of dollars that would pay for the production of a clone for them. She also confused him by saying that if all life was created by aliens, would the cloned baby be alien? But think about from the cult's perspective, wouldn't cloning be sacreligious and against their teachings? Anyway the whole thing is crazy. Although there's a possibility that they're right, I strongly doubt it. Also, although I'm against human cloning, I'm all for stem-cell research and even genetic modification(if used properly i.e. no superbeings, no 'Gatticus')

[b]OOC:[/b] [i]"i need to find me a monkey that drinks rum"[/i] ... If I had a dollar everytime someone said that ... The constant repitition of that single sentence by Enigma, aaahh, the wonders of copy and paste. [b]IC:[/b] The Drunken Monkeyman staggered off the ship, belching loudly and scratching his... no, I won't go there. After Mr. Robotto (Version Two) pushed all the passengers off the ship, they started walking to the ISB village in the distance. There they were taken hostage by the ISB town guards. Moving down the line, the ISB police sergeant inspected the prisoners, getting a little distracted by the kinky babblefish. He got to the end of the line to find someone missing. There was mumbling behind him. The police chief turned around and saw the Drunken Monkey Man searching his filing cabinet muttering, "There's got to be booze here somewhere." The ISB visibly paled (not that hard considering he is just a colour) and swore under his breath, "Oh no, he's back!" The DMM turned around holding a bottle of gin in his paws (unsuprisingly successful in his search - he can smell ethanol) and cheerily called out to the ISB, "Hey, you haven't seen my mum around, have ya?" before vomitting on the carpet.

name: Jacque Freifens (aka THE DRUNKEN MONKEYMAN) race: monkeyman age: Unknown. In relative terms, about 22 looks: body of human-tail of monkey. maybe monkey ears as well just to be different bio: born of an Inteligent Shade of Blue, monkeyman went on a quest to see what life looked like through the bottom of a bottle (of course that meant he had to empty the bottle first). After polishing off a couple bottles of Worchestire Sauce, he found his niche becoming a Drunken Monkeyman (reknown for urinating on walls). towel: simple brown towel with white writing saying, 'Booker Noe's Best'. All alcoholics will appreciate the joke. contents of towel: empty to half empty bottles, something to tie his hair back with, two used shuttlebus tickets and a piece of paper with his address (sometime he forgets) mission: get drunk, go back home to his ISB mother who kicked him out of the house

Suddenly, a patch of seemingly nothing in front of the ship glows an eerie shade of intelligent blue. The spectators stand amazed as an angel choir appears to sing a rousing chant and a rift appears in the light. One person drops down on all fours to praise the light (actually it was only Hairy McLairy so it doesn't really count). The rift continues to grow, pushing the light outwards. A man steps out, a monkey man - with the body of a man but the prehensile tail of a monkey. The mood is shattered; a loud, offensive belch breaks through the glorious singing. The new arrival staggers through the crowd, jamaican rum bottle clutched firmly in hand, and finds the only wall still standing. As the once-adoring crowd turns around, they hear a fly being pulled down and monkeyman assumes the universal stance of every drunk man when they urinate (legs apart, body slanting forward, arm outstretched, hand touching wall). The crowd continue to watch the intruder as he creates a dark patch on the wall. Jake: Errm, what was i saying again?

Name: Mark Andrew Baker Age: 15 DOB: November 10th, 1987 Location: Toowoomba, Australia One Word: Relaxed (lazy was taken) Occupation: Student Color: Blue Food: i just can't choose Beverage: Fruit Punch Dream Job: Bio-chemist Self-Proclaimed: cynic Ethnicity: English, German and a hint of Austrian Extracurricular: Debating, Concert and big band Hobby: reading Dessert: Choc-chip Ice cream Musician: Jeff Buckley Group: Too many Mac or PC? PC Nics: Marbar, Maruku, Mork Blog: No Home Page: No Religion: Atheist (technically Catholic) Book: The Poet Collections: none Sport: soccer/football (watch, not play) Won't Eat: anything without at least 3 types of preservatives Words to live by: "In a race between a rock and a rig, don't varnish your clams." [i]Dilbert[/i] Addicted to: Chocolate Movie: any black comedy

Mark Andrew Baker Mark means 'Warrior' (from Mars, the Roman God of War) Andrew means 'Manly' or 'Courageous' Baker - pretty obvious So I'm a manly, courageous warrior who enjoys making breadrolls and playing with dough. (kinda spoils the image doesn't it) PS. Tim means 'honoured by god'

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by genkai [/i] what becomes smaller as you put more in it, and bigger as you take out of it? very easy. [/B][/QUOTE] a hole [QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Mr. Maul[/i] I've got one sorta like that which probably has the same answer, but anyway, the police got a call from the owner of a gas station. He was at work late at night, and he had just sold a finely dressed man five bags of softener salt, each weighing fifty pounds. The man asked the owner if he would help him carry the bags out to his car. The owner said yes, and so he helped him. The owner told the man good night as the man locked his car and rolled up the windows. The owner went back inside the gas station's store, because there was another man inside looking at an aisle with batteries. The car started to back out just as there was a loud crash, the power went, and all the lights went out. A gunshot rang out. When the power came back, the owner saw that the man with the salt had been shot. When the police got there they discovered that there was no bullet hole in any of the windows(which were all up), and that there was no gun, or trace of any firearms, besides the one bullet, in the man's car. The doors were locked the entire time, and there was no one else in the car with him. How is this murder possible?[/QUOTE] The car was a convertible and the top's down (open). The killer shot through the open roof.

Wow, talk about a hard act to follow. I just want to say that I think that 'normal' describes the exact average, the view of the majority. For example, using the Japanese shoe thing brought up before, in some countries you remove your shoes when you enter a building but in majority of countries, you don't. Therefore a 'normal' person (using the biggest air quotes ever!) does not remove their shoes, or sandals, or moccasins, or whatever. Worldwide normal is just the average. The problem with that is that modern society has warped the definition of 'normal' beyond recognition. Now every country, town, small group even time period has its own view of normality. Sorry, everyone hates a literalist but that is what I have to say.

That is terrible, Panny. Both my parents are devout, practising Christians and they forced Christianity onto my two brothers and I. We each slowly lost our childish belief (childish as in 'believe anything adult tells you) but instead of sitting down and telling our parents, we kind of 'weened ourselves off religion'. First we made up excuses to not go to church (turning alarm clock off) then gradually just stopped going. Now all my friends know i'm atheist but it still gets hard when teachers try to force you to take Eucharist at school (I go to a Catholic school) Good luck. Hope it all works out!

Peter walked through the city towards the docks, pausing once or twice to scare a mugger straight. He arrived at the docks where his next victim was known to deal, the sea breeze ruffling his hair and invigorating his body. He found his new vantage point, a huge crane that serviced the shipyards. After a jump and a short climb, he surveyed the scene below him. The warehouses to the east were grey and dull, sometimes bursting into light as an unlucky prostitute looking for a drunken client ventured too close to the sensor lights. The piers were close to empty; only a few trading vessels remained to greet the early morning light. Suddenly something came to his attention. There was a small congregation halfway between the warehouses and the sea. He saw one of them jump onto the roof of a single-storey building and disappear, only to be replaced by another, suddenly emerging from the shadows. That was when he sniffed the air properly and found the unmistakable scent of zoanthrope. "Goody," he said to himself whilst preparing to jump off the crane, "Time to make some friends!" He jumped, laughing into the wind.

[i]High up, in an alley in downtown New York, Peter waited. His two yellow eyes reflecting the pale crescent moon and single distant streetlight, the only evidence that anyone or anything was there. From here on the emergency staircase, Peter had a clear of the two opening in the alley: a single door near the back of the passageway and the entrance into the street. His prey was entering now. The man slowly proceeded down the alley, cautiously eying the shadows. As he strode, his jacket fluttered in the breeze and revealed with a glint of moonlight on metal, the gun he kept near his left pocket. When he was halfway down the passage, he broke into a jog, constantly looking over his shoulder. Peter moved slightly into the pounce position when one of his claws connected with the metal staircase with an audible clink. The man glanced up in horror, knowing now that he was wrong, the danger was in front of him not behind. He turned and ran back down the alley. Peter swore under his breath and began the pursuit, jumping from staircase to ledge to a stack of crates piled against the wall and finally landing in the middle of the lane. The man saw a shape blocking his exit and drew his gun, but before he could fire, a large cat-like creature darted forward and to the left. It spun, kicking the gun from his hand. Before he could recover, it thrust his arm behind his back with such force that it broke immediately. The cat paused for a moment, searching for the large, pulsating neck vein. It bit down on the jugular then quickly tore away, finishing the victim off in one fluid motion. Peter slowly walked out of the alley onto the street, his features distorting as he walked. By the time he reached the road, no one could distinguish between him and a ?normal? human.[/i]

Is it okay if I join? Name: Peter Burnell Age: 17 Size: 5'7" Description:Short blond hair, average - fairly large build, blue muscle shirt, faded jeans. Bio: Lived in NY all his life. Moved out of home two years ago. Learnt street fighting and joined one of the city's gangs. Animal: Leopard Element: thunder

I don't yell that much but I do that stupid thing when you're playing a racing game and you turn as the car turns. It really annoys because I can't stop it.

Dr John: Kill Them! We must finish the sacrifice! [i]A new wave of Voodoo fanatics rush at the intruders, trampling their fallen comrades. They hastily try to get into a formation. The temple guards form lines with the front row firing, then crouching and rreloading, allowing the second row to do the same. The detectives dive behind some now overturned tables to hide from this archaic, yet surprisingly effective technique.[/i] Gio: We got trouble behind us. [i]A new threat was swiftly appproaching the group from the rear.[/i]

OOC: Knocking gives you the perfect oppurtunity to blow away whoever answers! IC: [i]THe elevator slowly descended. Everyone has their guns out, expecting a huge battle.The lift doors open...[/i] Gio: There's no one here. [i]They all disappointedly put their weapons away.[/i] Angel: It's eerily quiet. Where is everyone? Baz: Follow me. I know where we can get disguises. [i]They hurry after Baz. After a few minutes of searching, he finds the room he hid in previously. They all dress up in the voodoo cloaks and animal masks.[/i] Gio: What's that sound? It sounds like chanting. [i] They step into the narrow corridor and look around. A torch-lit procession of Voodoo shamen is approaching. They seem to be holding ceremonial spears.[/i] Sikes: Time for some fun!

I've got Homidical Psycho Jungle Cat (as well). It's the best book ever! I love his snowman sculptures!