plugin&play
If you read, you will judge. | ||||||||
My Dear we're slow dancing in a burning room |
Wednesday, August 20, 2008, 1:08 AM
Shelter you and i
Its 1 am in the morning. I just spent 1 entire hour with Liz on the phone trying to find this song she oh so desperately wanted and needed bad enough to keep me from rest. I searched everywhere, words cannot describe the deepest darkest areas of the internet i had to search to try and find the song. I searched through 8658694 song names, results and tabs everywhere. Racked my brain trying to match her description of the song with the results. Not only did i wreck my eyes and brain, but believe me, you have no idea how badly ruptured my ears are from her excessive singing of not only that song, but other random songs she felt like singing to entertain her desires. This has left me damaged psychologically, physically and emotionally. And guess what. 2 minutes ago, Liz suddenly tells me this song she has sounds really familiar, she plays the song and finds out that the song she already has, is the song we've been looking for. All the while. Tsk. Great. Fantastic. And now Liz is happily singing away the song while i post. Excuse me while i go see a doctor about my bleeding ears. ao [Edit] Im feeling an overwhelming sensation of story telling vibes, so bear with me while i narrate my concoctions. He was spiraling downwards into panic. Her movements were agonizingly slow,she moved the mouse across the screen to check the internet history. Never know what young men are up to these days late at night clicking away on their laptops locked up in their rooms. Her eyebrows were knotted up, eyes squinting at every possible detail available to her on the screen giving the illusion that she was talking to the computer, coaxing it to reveal more of its secrets he had so cleverly hidden. Point by point, the arrow dragged across the screen finding more potential secret conspiracies. "Stop lying to me." "But im not! Ive told you aunt Tessey ive got nothing to hide in my computer! Honest!" "Thats what all you boys say these days, oh ive got nothing to hide, and then wham! A whole nest of dirty material hiding somewhere, i know what you boys are up to." He lifted his eyebrows in a quizzical tilt, trying to figure out just what was going on in this 65 year old's head. She would pay her usual visits to check if everything was alright since mom and dad were away so often, he wouldnt have minded, except for the fact that she was under the illusion that he was a crook minded machiavellianist. She lifted her finger and slowly dropped it again to click on the "history" button. Jeez she can't even allow gravity to take hold of her finger and bring it down on the mouse at a normal gravitational pull, he thought as she pressed down on the mouse. The history was empty. Her head spun back to look into his eyes, faster than the average speeds of her mouse moving and clicking put together, again, she gave him that look that meant she was trying to eat into his soul. He smirked. "Told you i aint got nothing to hide." She turned back to the screen and hit the arrow on the address bar, a list of previously visited sites dropped down and she arrowed them out one by one, hotmail, could be one of those porn sites where they sent pictures of "hot" girls through the mail, youtube, could be a website featuring a new kind of pleasure involving a tube, and then the next one, aostreet, now what could this be? She thought to herself, slowly bring her ancient digit down on the mouse. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and upper lip. Oh God no, not my blog. He silently whispered, mind racing into a blank. He had previously posted on a time when she had come for her usual inspection for "Adulterated material", "The Devil's paradise" She called it. If she saw what he wrote about her, his head would surely be rolling out the door, taken off by a witch-like incantation. Fortunately, the day he was posting that story, he was also halfway through strumming on his guitar and had lost inspiration halfway through, and so he never really got around to finishing the [End of Edit] |
the machiavellian ist
Vanity isn't a sin, a little narcissm wouldn't hurt.Andrew. Music. Food. People. What more could you possibly want? |
partnersincrime
One day when i wake up and find the motive and time to link anybody, i'll let you know. backtoyesterday
+ I can't get no satisfaction + You can be my flamingo, cos pink is a new kinda li... + Another intelligent conversation + Theyre all painted black + Paint it black + More than words is all i have to do to make it real. + Im on a highway to nowhere, trying to get by witho... + I wish i was special, so very special. + The stairways up to la butte can make the wretched... + I hope you dont mind that i put down in words wheni'mgone
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An accidentality production Inspiration from DancingSheep & BONBON:D |
theventingmachine
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