Archive for February, 2012

Question by Rabbits Foot: Rate My Story 1-5 Rating Please!!!!!?
1 Out Of 5 Rating Please!

The Blade Of Mryanor
Chapter 1..

Gray eyes peered across the massive clay, wood ,and brick town looking for something. A massive tower loomed over this section of town and on it flew a massive green flag with a purple blade on it. Spread out all over the tower were cross shaped holes in the side of the building, each with an arrow sticking out from it. He looked below him and the small market that bustled with oblivious peasants selling and buying wares. A man in a green uniform holding a purple hilted sword was walking through the crowd watching those who passed. There was no possible way to make the jump without the guard noticing him. Suddenly an idea exploded through his mind and he looked through the crowd for a certain type of person. He spotted a man in rags holding an alluminum cup shaking it at the townspeople that walked by him. The man jumped from the building and landed in a small space in the crowd. Those behind him stared in astonishment but decided to forget about it*. He strode over to the homless man and spoke in a soft yet strong voice, “Would you like to earn half a crown?”
“Oh yes sir, very much sir”
A smile struck his face and he whispered in the mans ear. The mans eyes widend then he stood up and strode forward, taking the half crown and began to walk over to the guard. He turned on his heel and faced the man “May I have the name of my employer?”
“Darren.”
“Thanks..”
Darren then climbed upwards onto the rooftop again, waiting for the out burst. Then suddenly from below a man screamed and Darren pictured a man pointing at a random thug and screaming ” He stole my bag!” The guard, doing what he was trained to do spun on his heel and cracked the hilt of the sword on the thugs head. The thugs legs collapsed underneathe him and he sunk to floor face first. As the guard struck the thug Darren launched himself across the building top and landed easily on the other rooftop. He then noticed the ladder that lead up the massive tower. He began to climb it, slowly first then quickly as he relized how strong the wood was. Screams roared from below and he tried to climb ever faster. Four arrows moved towards him as he climbed and shot off, one digging into the side of his leg. He cried out and ripped it from his leg, trying to move even faster. He reaced the top of the building and stared down the ladder. Four guards were climbing the ladder while three others loaded there cross bow. He slide out a blade from his backpack and moved into action. He slit the ropes holding the ladder to the tower. ‘Now if i could just ahh there we go’ he thought to himself as the ladder toppled and crushed Five guards, the four on the ladder and one of the crossbow men. Two bolts suddenly cracked the bricks beside his head and dug into the stone. Hishands blurred down to his sides as he gripped two small blades from his pockets. He jumped upwards and one bolt missed him while the other dug into his right shoulder blade. He tried to pay no attention to the pain, he knew he had a minute reload time for them. He peered out, one had smartly hidden and the other had tried but he could see the side of his head. The man who was visible heard a whistling noise and the last thing he heard was a crossbow being reloaded. He then collapsed to the floor dead. When the other man popped out he could see nothing, The sun and just pulled behind the tower, casting a dark shadow over him. He heard the thumping of boots hitting the floor. Then a brick struck his skull, knocking him out. Darren stared down at the boots he had dropped down the tower grinning. ‘At least i only had to kill on.. Oh yeah.. Six.. Well that could be a problem..’ He thought. He noticed that there was about 2 feet of sand atop the tower, he slid out a yellow blanket and curled around the corner. He had at least 3 hours til sunset when the Watch went back to bed. He slid out a book and began to read.

Yup..
Rate ;P

*People in the city saw this all the time, they relized most of them would be mugged later so why worry about it all now?

Best answer:

Answer by Muskan
3star

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Question by Cheddar Cheese!!!: Do you like my story?
Keep in mind, its the introduction of a totally unfinished novel. I’d really like honest feedback… So go ahead and put your opinions out there. .. Well… Here it is!
It was almost time. An inky blackness engulfed the seemingly empty field, while wind and rain mingled in the air, creating a feeling of frozen darkness all around. One couldn’t tell the location where the field began or ended. Endless stretches of darkness webbed in all directions, concealing anything possibly lurking in the shadows.

Without warning, a faint glimmer began to flicker in the central area of the field. As if summoned, hushed whispers began to stir, barely audible to the human ear. The whispers grew louder, beginning to take shape among the shadows. Silhouettes of figures arose out of darkness, their entire being composed of shadowy tendrils. Indistiguishable from each other, the murky figures swirled and creeped along together, always moving, as if made of smoke. The glow in the field grew brighter, a single bulb of crude candlelight. With each whisper, a cutting, iciness sliced through the air. The multitude of whispers blended together, growing louder and louder, becoming possessed shrieks of anticipation as the shadows crawled towards the light at an uncanny speed, screaming.

Suddenly, the candle rose higher, illuminating a solitary man cloaked in darkness. At once, the screams of the figures halted to a dead quiet.

“My friends.” A deep voice reverberated from the man, and whispers began to stir at the sound. He held up his hand and they settled into hollow silence.

“This day,” he paused, “is what you have been waiting for. For centuries, our kind have been biding their time in the shadows. But that time is no more!” His voice rising to a thunder at the end of the sentence. Shrieks erupted among the shadow people, whose wispy figures seemed to billow and claw out at the empty air. Once more the man held up a hand to quiet them. Silence radiated out from the field, hanging in the air dead weight. This time, when the man spoke again, his voice was low.

“The rumors you have heard are true. Our time is now.” The man uttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He raised the candle even higher. “My friends! Go! Flee out into the night!” He bellowed, echoing through the blackness. “Let the darkness become you!”

Swirling columns of smoke and shadows twisted, growing and becoming the night. Hands of shadow people reached out from their silhouettes, whirling out into the world. In seconds, the last wisps of smoke vanished from the field, and all that was left was the man.

“Good night,” he whispered, chuckling darkly. In one swift motion, he extinguished the candle light, leaving no trace but the night.

Best answer:

Answer by licketyspliff4
no

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Question by : I’ve been wanting to try this for a long time, but I’m worried; if I use my fists, will it hurt my partner?
See, I’ve been looking for a boxing sparring partner for a long time, and I thought I found the right guy, but there’s one problem—he wants to use these stupid foam bats, when I want to use bare-knuckle fists. What good is developing reflexes and improving motor coordination when you can’t even have a good contact point because some huge piece of foam keeps you three feet away from your opponent?

Sparring is a great way to get in shape, and I am disappointed he doesn’t want to use fists. He thinks it will hurt, and that it is stretching things too far. I told him that these things, done properly, should never hurt, and that I’d be sure to have plenty of vaseline on hand—you know, to put on in case knuckles get scraped in sparring, to dress any abrasions. He is a small guy, and he looked at me, standing there in my trunks, ready to go man-to-man, and I could see he was trembling. I’m sure this was his first time.

I told him to relax, that I’d be there behind him all the way, but he just was too nervous. I told him to turn around; you know, I wanted to massage his shoulders, to get him loosened up. He did, but I could tell he was still too tense. I decided that, if I was going to get down to business, I’d have to push things hard, apply a little force. “Come on!” I shouted, “You know you can take it like a man!”

He just was too nervous, too tense. Finally, I yelled a command at him: “Okay, dude! BEND OVER!” He looked back nervously over his shoulder. “You heard me!” I shouted. “BEND OVER AND PICK UP THE DAMN FOAM BATS!” He did, and we ended up doing his wuss sparring with the bats. It wasn’t much of a workout.

I have to know, why is he so nervous about using fists? Can it really hurt to sparr bare-knuckled? I mean, it would be just sissy-punches, nothing serious. Any advice?
Suggested category: Pregnancy & Parenting > Newborn & Baby

((((((((Bettie))))))) (((((((Kafleen))))))) =0)
((((((((Wayf))))))))

Best answer:

Answer by Egareitteb
Longest sous-entendu ever. =0)

(((Jack)))

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Question by Sleepy Dreams Awaken: Joke: Know About The Religious Bras?
Know About The Religious Bras?

What Religion is Your Bra?

A man walked into the ladies department of a Macy’s
And shyly walked up to
The woman behind the counter and said,
“I’d like to buy a bra for my wife. ”
“What type of bra?”
Asked the clerk.
“Type?” inquires the man, “There’s more than one type?”
“Look around,”
Said the saleslady,
As she showed a sea of bras in every shape, size, color
And material imaginable.!
“Actually,
Even with all of this variety,
There are really only
Four types of bras to choose from .”
Relieved, the man asked
About the types.
The saleslady replied:
“There are the Catholic,
The Salvation Army,
The Presbyterian,
And the Baptist types.
Which one would you prefer?”
Now totally befuddled,
The man asked about
The differences between them.
The Saleslady responded,
“It is all really quite simple. .(you can switch the religions if you prefer?)
The Catholic type
Supports the masses;
The Salvation Army type lifts the fallen;
The Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright; and
The Baptist makes mountains out of mole hills.”
Have you ever wondered why A, B, C, D, DD, E, F, G, and H are the letters used
To define bra sizes?
If you have wondered why,
But couldn’t figure out
What the letters stood for,
It is about time
You became informed!

(A} Almost Boobs…
{B} Barely there…
{C} Can’t Complain!…
{D} Dang!…
{DD} Double dang!……
{E} Enormous!…
{F} Fake…
{G} Get a Reduction…
{H} Help me, I’ve fallen
And I can’t get up!…

They forgot the German bra.
Holtzemfromfloppen

Best answer:

Answer by always b natural
An oldie, but a goodie.

Thanks for todays chuckle

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Question by Real Talk: xmas shoppin?
Types of Undergarments

A man walked into the ladies’ department of a Macy’s and shyly walked up to the woman behind the counter and said, “I’d like to buy a bra for my wife.”

“What type of bra?” asked the clerk.

“Type?” inquired the man. “There is more than one type?”

“Look around,” said the saleslady, as she showed a sea of bras in every shape, size, color and material. “Actually, even with all of this variety, there are really only four types of bras,” she replied.Confused, the man asked what the types were. The saleslady replied, “The Catholic type, the Salvation Army type, the Presbyterian type, and the Baptist type. Which one do you need?”

Still confused, the man asked, “What is the difference between them?”

The lady responded, “It is all really quite simple… the Catholic type supports the masses, the Salvation Army type lifts up the fallen, the Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright, and the Baptist type makes mountains out of molehills.”

Best answer:

Answer by Brainz
WOW! That’s terrific! Deliciously humorous!! I loved it! Star for you!!!

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Question by ashlie_702: Wanna hear a joke? ~ The man buying a bra. . .?
A man walked into the ladies’ department of a Macy’s and shyly walked up to the woman behind the counter and said, “I’d like to buy a bra for my wife.”

“What type of bra?” asked the clerk.

“Type?” inquired the man. “There is more than one type?”

“Look around,” said the saleslady, as she showed a sea of bras in every shape, size, color and material. “Actually, even with all of this variety, there are really only four types of bras,” she replied.Confused, the man asked what the types were. The saleslady replied, “The Catholic type, the Salvation Army type, the Presbyterian type, and the Baptist type. Which one do you need?”

Still confused, the man asked, “What is the difference between them?”

The lady responded, “It is all really quite simple… the Catholic type supports the masses, the Salvation Army type lifts up the fallen, the Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright, and the Baptist type makes mountains out of molehills.”
BAD JOKE DISCLAIMER: I recognize that religious humor can be risky.If you find any of these objectionable, my apologies. As with most jokes, the original authors are unknown — but we thank them.

Best answer:

Answer by Bloodsucker
brought a smile to a hectic day! Thanks!

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Question by ♥JLB♥: Funny joke? ♥♥?
A man walked into the ladies department of a Macy’s.

He shyly walked up to the woman behind the counter and said,

“I’d like to buy a bra for my wife.”.

“What type of bra?”, asked the clerk.

“Type?”, inquired the man “There is more than one type?”.

“Look Around.”, said the saleslady, as she showed a sea of bras in every shape, size color and material.

“Actually, even with all of this variety, there are really only
three types of bras.”, replied the salesclerk.

Confused, the man asked,

“Only three? What are they?”.

The saleslady replied “The Catholic type, the, Salvation Army
type, and the Baptist type. Which one do you need?”.

Still confused the man asked

“What is the difference between them?”.

The lady responded

“It is quite simple. The Catholic type supports the masses, the
Salvation Army type lifts up the fallen, and the Baptist type
makes mountains out of mole hills.”.

Best answer:

Answer by lovin_potc_4evr
cute

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Question by : What do you think of my writing? Would you read on?
The doctor wheeled a young girl in who was unable to speak or hear the words around her that were spoken. The doctor, a man around thirty, with dark hair and forest green eyes, was puzzled by the little girl. It was impossible that she was over four years of age. His brain traveled great lengths to try and heal the girl, but no matter what, he failed.

Her parents were devastated, not even able to name the child until she was healed because of an old superstition. The young girl had never heard her parents speak or been able to murmur the words “I love you,” in her young father’s ear. They figured it was best to let the child die, but the doctor had another plan in mind.

“I’ll call a man,” he told the parents. “I can guarantee he can heal her, but more than likely, she will not return to see either of you for a very long time.”

After a long time of exchanged glances and puzzled looks, the parents finally agreed, and the doctor mailed Clide Jameson, a specialist. A week passed, and the parents were still at their dying child’s bedside. The doctor came in to check up on them followed by a flamboyant man with a blonde ponytail, the most expensive trousers on the market, and a blue cape strutted in. He had to be one of the most rich people the family had ever seen, leaving them in slight intimidation.

“Th-This is the specialist?” asked the mother. The little girl’s eyes perked and a smile placed itself upon her lips for what seemed the first time in years.

“Hello, young people. I am Clide Jameson, owner of the Jameson Orphanage for Children, a Duke, and also, specialist in every child in every shape and size. So what is the problem with your little Angel?”

“Well, she is only four, and still cannot speak, and cannot hear a word anybody says,” said the father.

Clide was already over by her bedside, peering into those teal eyes she possessed and wrapping his fingers around her chocolate brown curls of tangled hair. “What is her name?”

The parents looked down in guilt. “She has none,” they said in unison, and Clide smirked.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Clide. “I’ll fix her up good and well, under a few conditions. I get to name her. She comes to stay with me at my orphanage. And lastly, most importantly, her soul is mine to keep.”

By this time, both of the little girl’s parents were in tears, yet they nodded in unison, wanting their child to have all of her senses. Clide grinned.

“Good, now, Little Angele, look at me.” With amazement and joy, the child looked straight at Clide. “Now, Angele, tell me Hello.”

A sing-songy voice escaped the little girl’s lips as she said the words, leaving the entire room, other than Clide, in amazement. He took Angele’s hand and began to walk her out of the room, not even taking the time to allow her to look at her parents again. She was with him now, and nobody could do a bloody thing to stop it.
This is a bit of a prologue. I am fifteen and have written a book, but never published.

Best answer:

Answer by Lady Dynamite
It definitely made me read on, but I think you should cut down the describtions a bit.

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Question by callmegirl: BRAaa!!!!!!!!!?
A man walked into the ladies department of a Macy’s and shyly walked
up to the woman behind the counter and said, “I’d like to buy a bra for
my wife.”

“What type of bra?” asked the clerk.

“Type?” inquires the man, “There’s more than one type?”

“Look around,” said the saleslady, as she showed a sea of bras in every
shape, size, color and material imaginable.

Actually, even with all of this variety, there are really only four types of
bras to choose from.

Relieved, the man asked about the types! . The sales lady replied:

“There are the Catholic, the Salvation Army, the Presbyterian, and the
Baptist types. Which one would you prefer?”

Now totally befuddled, the man asked about the differences between
them.

The Saleslady responded, “It is all really quite simple…

The Catholic type supports the masses.

The Salvation Army type lifts the fallen,

The Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright,

The Baptist makes mountains out of mole hills.”

Have you ever wondered why A, B, C, D, DD, E, F, G, and H are
the letters used to define bra cup sizes?

If you have wondered why, but couldn’t figure out what the letters
stood for? It is about time you became informed!

{A} Almost Boobs…
{B} Barely there.
{C} Can’t Complain!
{D} Dang!
{DD} Double dang!
{E} Enormous!
{F} Fake.
{G} Get a Reduction.
{H} Help me, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up !

They forgot the German bra.

Holtzemfromfloppen
if u think it is nice give me a star pls

Best answer:

Answer by ashy:D
ha first time i heard a bra joke! a star is born *

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Question by Phukc the world and everyone in it: Not quite sure about this, waddaya think?
Ok, it’s a lot of writing, but it’s a full chapter I have written. I know I threw you into it and it needs some work, but overall, would it be something you would read? thanks for any praise criticism, or whatever you choose to do with this.
“He’ll be fine, but I need to rest again.” said Raine, “He was very wise to come to you for help, Rowan.”
“Isn’t that why they are called wise wolves?” I asked.
“I suppose so.” and she slumped to the ground next to a large pine tree.
I walked over to Fenrir, who started wagging his long tail in excitment, and scratched his ears. He licked my face with his wet tongue and touched his head to mine.
“Take me with you, sister. I like these people, and I can warn you of danger. I’ll even hunt for you if you ask me to do so.”
I shook my head, “We can’t, Fenrir.” I spoke without moving my mouth, “You wouldn’t be able to go with us the whole way.”
“Prithee, take me, I will gaurd you with my life!” he insisted.
“Fine, I will ask but I cannot garuntee anything. And please, brother, speak like us.” So I did. I told the others what Fenrir wanted and explained that he would hopefully understand if we said no. To my surprise, they all agreed to let him come with us. Fenrir was ecstatic when I told him the news. The young wolf beneath the wise shell came out for a moment and he ran around, barking with joy. We all laughed at the sight and he cocked his head in wonder which made us laugh more.
We slept through the rest of the night which turned out to only be three hours. Fenrir lay next to me and Hawtheorn on the snowy ground.
When the sun came up, Fenrir had disappeared. We had just finished packing our things when he returned with a large, red fox hanging from his jaws.
“Breakfast!” he announced. Everyone was greatful for the fox after it had been roasted over a fire Raine had conjured—no one had realized how hungry they were until then. The poor creature was devoured quickly and Fenrir gnawed on the bones.
Within an hour we were off, trekking across the forests of Canada, for what reason I still didn’t fully understand.
As we walked, I spoke to Fenrir, “Where are we, brother?”
He peered at me with deep, amber eyes, “We are just southeast of the road. We should head a bit more east if we are to get to flying thunder territory.”
I gave him a look, “Flying thunder territory?”
“The large flying metal things. They eat people and then regurgitate them after a few days.” he shuddered, “Humans have odd ways of passing time.”
I laughed, “You mean airplanes. They don’t eat people, Fenrir, they move them.”
He continued to look confused.
“Humans are still odd.” he stated. He wandered over to Skylar to be scratched behind the ears.
We made it to the empty, ice-covered road and started walking alongside it. A car or two passed us but nothing big enough to take all of us to the airport. We came to a dangerously sharp turn on the road that dropped off on the left side about forty feet. The barricade on the open side was rusted and wouldn’t have a chance of stopping anything going faster than twenty miles per hour. Ayden, being the little kid that he was, decided to run and look over the side, returning with a green, sickly face. He ran to his sister and held her tight.
“What’s wrong?” asked Raine.
“I think someone just died.” he replied morosely.
We all looked at eachother and rushed to the barricade. Raine gasped and I just about fell over the side from shock. A black pile of crumpled metal layed at the bottom of the drop. It wasn’t even a describable shape. There was a very faint redness on the snow next to the destroyed car.
“Oh, man,” I said, “How does that even happen?”
“God, that looks bad!” Skye whispered.
“Look at the barricade,” Raine pointed at a part of it that was completely ripped away from the road.
“Where’s Fenrir going?” Hawtheorn randomly shouted.
Fenrir had hopped over the barricade and was hopping from ledge to ledge on the side of the cliff. He then nimbly lept to the ground and started sniffing as he walked to the mass of metal. I sensed what he was smelling through his thoughts.
“Come on guys,” and I leapt over the barricade and started to follow Fenrir’s path down the cliff face. The others managed to follow after me, and when we got down, Hawtheorn shocked my right shoulder.
“Umm,” I said, “Ow.” I was annoyed at his electrical powers, but more annoyed that he was trying to stop me.
“Are you insane?” he asked. His dark blonde hair was messy from rushing after me.
“Fenrir smells blood,” I answered, “Warm blood.”
He let go of my shoulder and we immediately started searching the car for any sign o
i am really sorry about not putting the whole thing up. the website cut me off at 5000 words. the protagonist is female and her name is Rowan. this is the tenth chapter and, again, i know it needs work. just let me know if you would continue to read more of it. Thanks!

Best answer:

Answer by Emma
It’s really good! is this the first chapter because i dont get if the protagonist is a girl or boy or what his/ her names is or where they are. otherwise it is really really good! and i know u probably already noticed but u didn’t finish the sentence at the end :-]

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