Ozymandias

Shaking his head slowly, Lamont stood up. Straightening his bathrobe, he picked his glass of water off of the windowsill and carried it over to Rena; he walked slowly, and with his hands slightly parted, as a gesture of peace. Stopping by her side, he squatted down and made comforting noises. "Shhh. Shhh. It's alright, my dear. They're not here. Actually, they don't know you're here. It's alright. Besides, even if they do come, you know that security would tell us." When she finally raised one tear soaked eye to meet his gaze, he smiled gently and held out the glass of water. "Here, drink this. It's not a strong as some of the medications, but sometimes a glass of good, cold water can do the trick."

And I, for one, putting myself into Canadian shoes for a moment and thinking about whom I would vote for (based on the kind crash-course Canadian political education I got from the above posts) I realize that in this case, that person and/or party would probably get me very politely beaten with rather large sticks. Keep it up! This is interesting.

Come to think of it, that *is* something I could easily picture as a Bob song. But I know not the titles of Dylan!

*raises a hand* I blame it on being seriously REM deprived, but Jamz, where the ding dong is the conversation that spawned your last post? I feel like I'm missing too much of what you're talking about; I hope I can look it up. On another note, my asylum character's name is Lamont, an amnesiac. For some reason, his only memories of his past all have to with the radio show "The Shadow". Sincerely, He Who Has Not Blinked in An Hour

Wow. That paints a real picture like no song I remember at this time. But crom, I have no idea what it is...

I was actually asking because I know next to nothing about present or past activity in the Canadian government, and wanted to ask a concerned Canadian a thing or three so I *could* have a handle on the situation. {:>) That being said, what is the Liberal Sponsorship Scandal?

I don't think I've ever enjoyed defeat so much. Bloody awesome, Katz!!!

"Shhhhh," says the man in the chair by the window without turning around. The stringy brown hair visible over the back of the chair listed over to one side, and he fell silent again.

My thanks, Parm. Coming from you, that's high praise. Wanted to add a note I realized I rather should, though: The poem is actually a palindrome; read it left to right from title to final line, and you see one version. Read it from end line left to right, up to the title, and you get another.

A very Happy Birthday (or days, as I imagine in your case), Master Xaious. Well-wishing and a present of a brand-new flux capacitor and set of tires for his old Delorean (if he should ever want to drive again, instead of walk on his regular jaunts) bestowed, Ozymandias hits the dance floor to get down with his bad self. No, I really haven't the faintest idea what dance moves from ancient Egypt would look like, either. Just go with it.

working hard and falling, stumbling I straighten myself up only to trip again I straighten myself up tumble and it hurts quite bad I catch my foot on a rock, winding and narrow sometimes cloudy sometimes bright the path I work my way along I climb, stride, run, crawl sometimes together sometimes alone I follow this path that I have chosen I started it seems so long ago that one bright day

I look at the bonsai, and I think 'Why?' Why do we need to be here? This place, this sanctum is haven enough for now. But it won't always be. Soon they will break through. Soon, we will see open, bloody combat again. Soon swords will rise, men will fall, and alliances, perhaps nations shall be forged and broken. Such is the way of it. He sighed, paid final obescience to the shrine and its' adorning bonsai tree and rose. Donning his quiver and taking up his bow, he took up his position on the rampart.

Now that I've read their thoughts too (hey! I can read womens' minds! FINALLY! ~sorry. Had to do it. {:>) ), I completely agree with Tanny *and* Yui. Definitely change the "20" and dropping the last number could help too. Other than that, this bad boy is done, I'd say.

Nope. Just trying to see how much I could mix Spidey's & Miroku's own personal idioms, and what hijinks would ensue. Shoot, any womanizer worth his salt would make at least ONE attempt on MJ, whether her hubby can bench press a Volvo or not.

I agree wholeheartedly with Eyremon and Katz. I think you guys're terrific to play with, but why be selfish? Let's get the word out, mon freres! See who else's up for a little wolf hunt. :>)

First of all, this is beautiful. I mean it, this is at least the equal of about 70% of the professional short stories I've ever read in grammar, layout, believeability, and emotion. Personally, the only thing I can think of that could use changing is don't leave it as "$20.00" Change those to her saying "Twenty dollars". I think it would flow better.

I like monkeys. The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece. I thought that odd since they were normally a couple thousand each. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. I bought 200. I like monkeys. I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright. They kept punching themselves in their genitals. I laughed. Then they punched my genitals. I stopped laughing. I herded them into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their new environment. They would screech, hurl themselves off of the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the spectacle lost its novelty halfway into its third hour. Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive: they all died. No apparent reason. They all just sorta' dropped dead. Kinda' like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. Damn cheap monkeys. I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room, on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw rugs. I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead, dry monkeys. I tried pretending that they were just stuffed animals. That worked for a while, that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell real bad. I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in the toilet and I didn't want to call the plumber. I was embarrassed. I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately there was only enough room for two monkeys at a time so I had to change them every 30 seconds. I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn't all go bad. I tried burning them. Little did I know my bed was flammable. I had to extinguish the fire. Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and 197 dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed. The odor wasn't improving. I became agitated at my inability to dispose of my monkeys and to use the bathroom. I severely beat one of my monkeys. I felt better. I tried throwing them way but the garbage man said that the city wasn't allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him that I had a wet one. He couldn't take that one either. I didn't bother asking about the frozen ones. I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My friends didn't know quite what to say. They pretended that they like them but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them in the genitals. I like monkeys.

Happy Birthday, and congratulations! Couldn't happen to a better wolf. My, quite a spread here. You've truly outdone yourself. Rabbit, fish, moose...what? No squirrel?? Ees always moose and squirrel!!

Sorry for the wait, Signore Loki. No worries, you're where you're *supposed* to be. You made Initiate awhile ago, remember? (It was on the old board) Your rank was one of those unaccounted-for-til recently moving cleanups that still needed to be done. So welcome back to the right shoes. :>)

Thank you.

Weeeell...if we do skip one, I'll be in on the next one definitely anyway. If we *don't* skip... Call me crackers. :>)

<Oh, it's ON!!!!!>

Tirelessly working with legions of sprites, shadow monsters, and Ice Elementals, Ozymandias miraculously finishes the titanic project that takes up over a square mile of the northern Pen lands in a week. Standing before it, smiling contentedly, Ozymandias beams at Katzaniel by his side. "Can I open my eyes now?", she asks anxiously. "Yes." Katzaniel opens her eyes to take in the last sight she expected to find; a complete reconstruction (and indeed, it was in fact the original structure itself extracted...carefully...from modern day Egypt) of the palace of Luxor. Even as she made her way to the front gate, awestruck, and it opened for her, Katzaniel realized that the entire palace had been redone on the inside as a new home just for her. As she took all this in, Ozymandias said demurely, "I hope you like it". Carefully positioned just out of her peripheral vision, Ozymandias executes a stately turn and serves all the gathered suitors a raspberry. Thbbbbbbbbpt.

*climbs up onto his desk* Oh Captain, my captain! ;>) Seeya soon.

I'm in either way, bot cont me en fer tha' pirates MOST OF ALL! Hahahaha! (Crom, that was awful...) Oh! 'Fore I forget; I actually had an idea that *I* wanted to run, but realized I would NOT be able to run anytime this year: Phantom of the Opera, but with a twist: The entire game takes place during the masquerade ball (to keep all idientites hidden), and the Seer would be Christine, the Baner would be Raoul, and if we have one wolf it will be The Phantom; two; and we'll have the Phantom and Carlotta. The Phantom could get away with anything (within reason), but Carlotta could only assassinate one's reputation. Hope that helps. :>)