“Wh-What?! Does that mean I’m going to..!” Alice’s eyes widened in horror as her hand went up to the throat she had swallowed it with.
“Oh, great job, Handle. Now she’s scared. Is there any way that we can find out what the side effects are?”
“You can try looking on the back of the label.”
The rabbit walked up to the table and reached up as high as he could until Alice gave him the bottle. He then proceeded to examine the back of it. What followed it surprised not only Alice but Handle as well. The rabbit went into a terrible hissy fit hopping up and down, his cute face scrunched in a frustrated expression, while he growled curse words that would be rather improper to write.
“I can’t believe this!” he growled, “Now we are even in a worse situation then we were in before!!” He pulled his ears so hard Alice nearly thought he was going to tear them off.
Concerned Alice asked, “What does it say, Mr. Rabbit?”
“It says, THIS POTION IS NOT MEANT FOR OUTSIDERS. IF CONUMED BY ONE YOU MUST GO TO SEEK CATERPILLER FOR THEY WILL NOT BE ABLE TO RETURN TO THEIR WORLD WITHOUT THE REMEDY.”
“HA HA HA!” Handle grinned, “Looks like you will stuck with the girl after all, Mr. White.”
“Shut up, you piece of scrap metal. It was your fault that I’m in this mess.” The rabbit replied crossly.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
FINALE….I think that’s how you spell it
Oh my God! Like OMG! Its the end of the year (well school year). And you know what that means...Finals! Yeah!...wait what am I doing...Finals aren't good! BOOOO!! I have to do two essays and then a singing sort a solo group thing for choir...But I guess I don't really have any right to complain since I know a lot of other people have much more work to do than that. ANYWAYS……Lets start the actual blog shall we?
I don't really consider blogging to be really work anyway. Blogging is almost like a…no is a trash can to dump whatever junk you have in your head; whether it be short stories, political debates, religion, environmental stuff, etc. It’s a very useful tool to vent your anger out on (though I don’t really recommend becoming violent with your computer cause you do still need afterwards). Ultimately I’ve surprised even myself over this blogging year. For one thing I have increased my typing speed considerably since the very beginning of the first quarter; I’m no longer using my fingers like chop sticks. I’ve tried new ways of how to deal with my writer’s block (some successful some not). And I have also accomplished my goal of writing at least a paragraph each week. This was a goal (along with several others that I still haven’t done quite yet) I had given myself at the beginning of the year that I thought would be helpful in the future and I was proven right. I can better describe what think on the screen and can now relate to how I feel at the present time which has been proven useful as I have been writing my blogs.
My writing style I have noticed has changed over the course of not only this semester but over the entire year. Before I would start with one idea then I would drop it right in the middle in favor of something else. The overall maturity has changed drastically as well (not just the fact that I use A LOT more cuss words then I used to). Before when I first started to blog I was almost timid in my writing because I didn't really know what to say. But after a while I a realized that it wasn't about what other people thought about my writing it was about me and my talents that should come across the screen. Hey a writer’s got to do what a writer’s got to do, even if it means disappointing the people who are reading the stories. And even though I still am not even close to being published I still hope that I will continue growing so I can reach my goals.
Speaking about how I write what I have been reading over the past year has probably had some effect on it (not to mention a lot of other things). John Dies at the End probably has been most effective on me as far the cussing goes.
This book is full of nonsense monsters and bloody #%<5$! Oh yeah, the proof is on frickin' page 152 'We did a search at the local library and found a story from a few years before where a man had died after getting his penis caught in a mole trap he was working on. He bled to death. We told his ghost that it wasn't his house anymore and he had to leave. He didn't react to us until after a few hours’ worth of badgering and he vanished. No more stained carpet.’ I laughed pretty hard when I read that little tid bit. Anyway this book really does remind me of something that I would see on the SyFy channel. And considering the fact that they are now making a movie out of it there will probability be a lot of those people not that there is anything wrong with that.
If I saw some ghost with his #$%^ stuck in a mole trap I would be running away and cussing at the same time. I still can’t believe I read that book. Oh. And then there is Outlander. Gosh I can’t believe my mom actually reads stuff like this. Well I suppose it’s not so hard to believe considering that her friends are pretty much head over heels in the clouds (middle aged romance types).
Without blinking he drew up a chair and sat down across from me, lounging casually one booted foot resting on the opposite knee. A riding crop dangled from one fine, aristocratic hand. I watched the braided tip, black and scarlet, as it swung back and forth over the carpet.
“The idea has its attractions,” he said, watching my eyes follow the sweep of the whip. “But I could probably think of something better, given a few moments to collect myself.”
This quote just hit the nail on the head for me because it reminded me that there are people that do enjoy the pain of others. It isn’t fiction even as he speck there is probably some women getting beaten by her husband or worse. And that is just an example. It could be a child being abused by his or her parents or perhaps it’s outside of the family and there is nothing they can do about it. Books like Outlander influence me on an emotional level which I try to show in my writings (in moderation of course). Although without the sex scenes it was relatively a nice quick read. Whenever someone comments on my writing style they either say it’s very animated, detailed or both which I suppose is good but what I really want to know is if I really have a chance of going somewhere with it. The detailed part probably comes from all that Jane Austen reading and then there is more modern books like Twilight and Artemis Fowl.
All in all this was a very…eventful year. I will continue to blog when I can which in other words means most defiantly. See Yah!
I don't really consider blogging to be really work anyway. Blogging is almost like a…no is a trash can to dump whatever junk you have in your head; whether it be short stories, political debates, religion, environmental stuff, etc. It’s a very useful tool to vent your anger out on (though I don’t really recommend becoming violent with your computer cause you do still need afterwards). Ultimately I’ve surprised even myself over this blogging year. For one thing I have increased my typing speed considerably since the very beginning of the first quarter; I’m no longer using my fingers like chop sticks. I’ve tried new ways of how to deal with my writer’s block (some successful some not). And I have also accomplished my goal of writing at least a paragraph each week. This was a goal (along with several others that I still haven’t done quite yet) I had given myself at the beginning of the year that I thought would be helpful in the future and I was proven right. I can better describe what think on the screen and can now relate to how I feel at the present time which has been proven useful as I have been writing my blogs.
My writing style I have noticed has changed over the course of not only this semester but over the entire year. Before I would start with one idea then I would drop it right in the middle in favor of something else. The overall maturity has changed drastically as well (not just the fact that I use A LOT more cuss words then I used to). Before when I first started to blog I was almost timid in my writing because I didn't really know what to say. But after a while I a realized that it wasn't about what other people thought about my writing it was about me and my talents that should come across the screen. Hey a writer’s got to do what a writer’s got to do, even if it means disappointing the people who are reading the stories. And even though I still am not even close to being published I still hope that I will continue growing so I can reach my goals.
Speaking about how I write what I have been reading over the past year has probably had some effect on it (not to mention a lot of other things). John Dies at the End probably has been most effective on me as far the cussing goes.
This book is full of nonsense monsters and bloody #%<5$! Oh yeah, the proof is on frickin' page 152 'We did a search at the local library and found a story from a few years before where a man had died after getting his penis caught in a mole trap he was working on. He bled to death. We told his ghost that it wasn't his house anymore and he had to leave. He didn't react to us until after a few hours’ worth of badgering and he vanished. No more stained carpet.’ I laughed pretty hard when I read that little tid bit. Anyway this book really does remind me of something that I would see on the SyFy channel. And considering the fact that they are now making a movie out of it there will probability be a lot of those people not that there is anything wrong with that.
If I saw some ghost with his #$%^ stuck in a mole trap I would be running away and cussing at the same time. I still can’t believe I read that book. Oh. And then there is Outlander. Gosh I can’t believe my mom actually reads stuff like this. Well I suppose it’s not so hard to believe considering that her friends are pretty much head over heels in the clouds (middle aged romance types).
Without blinking he drew up a chair and sat down across from me, lounging casually one booted foot resting on the opposite knee. A riding crop dangled from one fine, aristocratic hand. I watched the braided tip, black and scarlet, as it swung back and forth over the carpet.
“The idea has its attractions,” he said, watching my eyes follow the sweep of the whip. “But I could probably think of something better, given a few moments to collect myself.”
This quote just hit the nail on the head for me because it reminded me that there are people that do enjoy the pain of others. It isn’t fiction even as he speck there is probably some women getting beaten by her husband or worse. And that is just an example. It could be a child being abused by his or her parents or perhaps it’s outside of the family and there is nothing they can do about it. Books like Outlander influence me on an emotional level which I try to show in my writings (in moderation of course). Although without the sex scenes it was relatively a nice quick read. Whenever someone comments on my writing style they either say it’s very animated, detailed or both which I suppose is good but what I really want to know is if I really have a chance of going somewhere with it. The detailed part probably comes from all that Jane Austen reading and then there is more modern books like Twilight and Artemis Fowl.
All in all this was a very…eventful year. I will continue to blog when I can which in other words means most defiantly. See Yah!
Friday, May 28, 2010
The FINAL (da da dah dah!)
This introduction paragraph is to all those lazy readers who won’t even bother to move their own damn mouse (computer ones that is). Diana Gabaldon's Outlander novel begins in the year 1945 when Claire Randall, British World War 2 combat nurse, is on vacation in Scotland with her husband Frank Randall They are on a second honeymoon to rekindle their relationship after being separated for the past six years due to the war. While Claire is looking at some plant species near a stone structure similar to Stonehenge she starts to hear a loud buzzing sound and finds herself in the year 1743!
Claire runs into a sadistic (& when say I sadist I mean like…really a pervert) British soldier, Jack Randall who she later discovers is an ancestor of her husband, Frank. Claire is rescued by a group of Highlanders who she gets to know over the course of a few months. The British are convinced that Claire is a spy and they insist that she be turned over to them for questioning. The Scottish clan give Claire the option of marrying one of them in order to gain the clan's protection and not be turned over to Jack Randall. Quite reluctantly, she marries a younger man named, James Fraser, in the same church she and Frank had been married in (now that’s just weird). The story goes on from there with how Claire must deal with her awakening belongings for Jamie and the urge to get back to her own time and true husband; and with a few attempted rape scenes here and there, witch trials, and cussing Scots thrown in the mix. Well that’s about it in a nut shell…
It’s kind of hard to classify Outlander in one specific genre, it’s seems to be in a lot more than just two; romance, fantasy, historical fiction, and science fiction (and let’s not forget all that yummy porn)!!!! I suppose the closest thing I’ve have ever read that is even remotely close to this little piece of work would probably be The Host by Stephanie Meyer. Minus the sex scenes Stephanie’s little take on total alien domination of our dear planet was the first thing that popped into my head. The second was the Other Boleyn Girl; which didn’t have anything magical besides the fact that it gave me dreams about kicking that stupid King between his @$6*76% LEGS for killing Anne and hurting Mary and of course his own frickin’ wife! Back on topic, I think the two reminded me of each other because in the Host the main character is an alien named Wanderer one out of many aliens had taken over earth after slowly worming (quite literally) into our minds to take us over. But this particular human, Melanie, won’t disappear like the rest of them and the two soon meet Melanie’s lover, Josh. And because she shares her hosts feeling’s, Wanderer begins to like him, too. All the while knowing that they can never be together. Plus her host is watching too because even though she has no control of her body, Melanie can still sense what Wanderer is feeling and doing.
I think this situation was similar to what Claire was feeling when she was with Jamie. She feels like she could belong with Jamie but knows she doesn’t. She is already married to Frank and Jamie is from a completely different time period then her. She feels torn between her love and duty to return to Frank in the future or to stay with Jamie who already holds a part of her heart. Then there is the thing with Black Jack Randall who looks exactly like his descendant Frank (creepy).
Now that we are on the subject of that pervert let me say a few words. I LOATH BLACK JACK RANDALL! I first met Black Jack when he accused Claire of being a prostitute and tried to do some ungentlemanly things to her. The next time the two meet alone he nearly rapes her if not for the gallant rescue of her fake husband Jamie. Later we see him again torturing Jamie then being cursed by Claire in all her witchiness. Frank must have not received the sadist genes or Claire probably wouldn’t have married him in the first place. I feel sorry for Jack’s wife because he’s a total you-know-what! It’s funny how Diana describes him especially when he was in his office.
Without blinking he drew up a chair and sat down across from me, lounging casually one booted foot resting on the opposite knee. A riding crop dangled from one fine, aristocratic hand. I watched the braided tip, black and scarlet, as it swung back and forth over the carpet.
“The idea has its attractions,” he said, watching my eyes follow the sweep of the whip. “But I could probably think of something better, given a few moments to collect myself.”
When I read this I was like ‘Claire you better get your butt out of there or your dead meat sister.” This quote alone could tell you that he would love to just hurt somebody just to see them scream. And unfortunately this is a common trait in human nature many suppress it while others it is more visible and they and the people that know them get hurt. Then there is the more extreme kind which include the rapist, serial killers, child molesters, etc who can’t or just let their emotions make decisions that leave reason behind. This category is what Jack is under. He makes a pretty unlikeable antagonist because well… there really isn’t anything to like about him besides his looks. His personality sucks big time and he does the most of the vilest crimes a person can commit.
Well Outlander was relatively a very good book Gabaldon is a fabulous writer. I would defiantly recommend this book to someone though I will say this:
WARNING UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD YOU LET ANY PERSON UNDER THE AGE OF EIGHTEEN READ THIS BOOK!
Claire runs into a sadistic (& when say I sadist I mean like…really a pervert) British soldier, Jack Randall who she later discovers is an ancestor of her husband, Frank. Claire is rescued by a group of Highlanders who she gets to know over the course of a few months. The British are convinced that Claire is a spy and they insist that she be turned over to them for questioning. The Scottish clan give Claire the option of marrying one of them in order to gain the clan's protection and not be turned over to Jack Randall. Quite reluctantly, she marries a younger man named, James Fraser, in the same church she and Frank had been married in (now that’s just weird). The story goes on from there with how Claire must deal with her awakening belongings for Jamie and the urge to get back to her own time and true husband; and with a few attempted rape scenes here and there, witch trials, and cussing Scots thrown in the mix. Well that’s about it in a nut shell…
It’s kind of hard to classify Outlander in one specific genre, it’s seems to be in a lot more than just two; romance, fantasy, historical fiction, and science fiction (and let’s not forget all that yummy porn)!!!! I suppose the closest thing I’ve have ever read that is even remotely close to this little piece of work would probably be The Host by Stephanie Meyer. Minus the sex scenes Stephanie’s little take on total alien domination of our dear planet was the first thing that popped into my head. The second was the Other Boleyn Girl; which didn’t have anything magical besides the fact that it gave me dreams about kicking that stupid King between his @$6*76% LEGS for killing Anne and hurting Mary and of course his own frickin’ wife! Back on topic, I think the two reminded me of each other because in the Host the main character is an alien named Wanderer one out of many aliens had taken over earth after slowly worming (quite literally) into our minds to take us over. But this particular human, Melanie, won’t disappear like the rest of them and the two soon meet Melanie’s lover, Josh. And because she shares her hosts feeling’s, Wanderer begins to like him, too. All the while knowing that they can never be together. Plus her host is watching too because even though she has no control of her body, Melanie can still sense what Wanderer is feeling and doing.
I think this situation was similar to what Claire was feeling when she was with Jamie. She feels like she could belong with Jamie but knows she doesn’t. She is already married to Frank and Jamie is from a completely different time period then her. She feels torn between her love and duty to return to Frank in the future or to stay with Jamie who already holds a part of her heart. Then there is the thing with Black Jack Randall who looks exactly like his descendant Frank (creepy).
Now that we are on the subject of that pervert let me say a few words. I LOATH BLACK JACK RANDALL! I first met Black Jack when he accused Claire of being a prostitute and tried to do some ungentlemanly things to her. The next time the two meet alone he nearly rapes her if not for the gallant rescue of her fake husband Jamie. Later we see him again torturing Jamie then being cursed by Claire in all her witchiness. Frank must have not received the sadist genes or Claire probably wouldn’t have married him in the first place. I feel sorry for Jack’s wife because he’s a total you-know-what! It’s funny how Diana describes him especially when he was in his office.
Without blinking he drew up a chair and sat down across from me, lounging casually one booted foot resting on the opposite knee. A riding crop dangled from one fine, aristocratic hand. I watched the braided tip, black and scarlet, as it swung back and forth over the carpet.
“The idea has its attractions,” he said, watching my eyes follow the sweep of the whip. “But I could probably think of something better, given a few moments to collect myself.”
When I read this I was like ‘Claire you better get your butt out of there or your dead meat sister.” This quote alone could tell you that he would love to just hurt somebody just to see them scream. And unfortunately this is a common trait in human nature many suppress it while others it is more visible and they and the people that know them get hurt. Then there is the more extreme kind which include the rapist, serial killers, child molesters, etc who can’t or just let their emotions make decisions that leave reason behind. This category is what Jack is under. He makes a pretty unlikeable antagonist because well… there really isn’t anything to like about him besides his looks. His personality sucks big time and he does the most of the vilest crimes a person can commit.
Well Outlander was relatively a very good book Gabaldon is a fabulous writer. I would defiantly recommend this book to someone though I will say this:
WARNING UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD YOU LET ANY PERSON UNDER THE AGE OF EIGHTEEN READ THIS BOOK!
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Wonderland chap 1 part 5
“That’s not right Mr. White. Nothing is impossible. It is just hard to fathom how the young lady came to be here.”
“Shut up, Handle! I’m not in the mood.” Alice searched everywhere for the third party who owned the voice that seemed to come out of nowhere until she finally noticed to whom the rabbit was speaking. Just in the middle of the double doors was a large golden handle which appeared to have a face of sorts. The large plate sized rubies acted as eyes while the gold ring that hung by two big bolts served as a mouth; when it spoke the metal of its gold ring bended as if it was the lips of a human.
“I mean do you realize what the queen will do if she finds out a human is here?” The rabbit pointed to Alice as if there was something incredibly wrong with her.
“Yes, Mr. White I very well aware of what she will do but what if we just send her back. And then the queen will never know.”
“Yes, that would probably be best. I mean there is no sense in killing her when there is no gain in it?”
“What! Kill!?” Alice stepped back quickly. She could hear her heart speeding up.
“Oh don’t worry we won’t hurt you, my dear, we are just the same as you. We just wish to get you home as quickly and as comfortable as possible.” The handle called Handle sounded calm but that only made Alice more frightened.
“Well let’s not waste anymore time, shall we?” The rabbit said as he glanced at his watch before again turning to Handle. “Now how do you propose to get the girl out of here?” He asked scornfully.
“It’s quite simple really; all you have to do is have her drink the teleportation potion on the table.”
“But there is no table in this room.”Alice said.
“Yes there is there is one beside you.”
When Alice looked next to her she saw to her surprise that he was right. Where there was once open space there became the appearance of a delicate little table. In the center there was a small glass vile that Alice immediately compared to the ones in her father’s study. Picking it up she read the tiny note attached to a white ribbon that said TELEPORTATION POTION.
“Now all you have to do is drink that and envision the place you wish to go.”
Since the bottle wasn’t marked poison, Alice thought to herself, most likely it would do me no harm in drinking it, which probably meant I would be able to go home. Maybe this was a silly idea to follow a mysterious rabbit down a hole. It would be best to go home.
Trying not to think of her awaiting sister, Alice envisioned a more agreeable scene of her and Dinah reading by the fire in the family study. Keeping the thought in her head she took the little cork off the nozzle of the bottle and put it to her lips. As she drank Alice wondered at how good it tasted. It tastes so sweet she thought, like cherries.
When she drank the last drop she set it back on the table and waited. Nothing happened.
“Why is she still here Handle?! Why didn’t the potion work?!” The rabbit turned furiously at the door.
Handle seemed to be quite baffled himself.
“I’m not sure. It has always worked when ever…WAIT! Girl what did that potion taste like?”
“Umm well it was very sweet it reminded me very much of cherry tart.”
“Oh no it was the wrong one!”
“What do you mean it was the wrong one?! HOW CAN YOU HAVE MISTAKEN IT FOR A TELEPORTATION POTION!?” The rabbit seemed to be very distressed now.
“It’s not that it is not a TELEPORTAION POTION what is wrong is that one is not meant for humans.”
“What do you mean not meant for humans?” Alice said hesitantly.
“It means that there could be side effects such as sickness or it could be fatal.” Handle said solemnly.
“Shut up, Handle! I’m not in the mood.” Alice searched everywhere for the third party who owned the voice that seemed to come out of nowhere until she finally noticed to whom the rabbit was speaking. Just in the middle of the double doors was a large golden handle which appeared to have a face of sorts. The large plate sized rubies acted as eyes while the gold ring that hung by two big bolts served as a mouth; when it spoke the metal of its gold ring bended as if it was the lips of a human.
“I mean do you realize what the queen will do if she finds out a human is here?” The rabbit pointed to Alice as if there was something incredibly wrong with her.
“Yes, Mr. White I very well aware of what she will do but what if we just send her back. And then the queen will never know.”
“Yes, that would probably be best. I mean there is no sense in killing her when there is no gain in it?”
“What! Kill!?” Alice stepped back quickly. She could hear her heart speeding up.
“Oh don’t worry we won’t hurt you, my dear, we are just the same as you. We just wish to get you home as quickly and as comfortable as possible.” The handle called Handle sounded calm but that only made Alice more frightened.
“Well let’s not waste anymore time, shall we?” The rabbit said as he glanced at his watch before again turning to Handle. “Now how do you propose to get the girl out of here?” He asked scornfully.
“It’s quite simple really; all you have to do is have her drink the teleportation potion on the table.”
“But there is no table in this room.”Alice said.
“Yes there is there is one beside you.”
When Alice looked next to her she saw to her surprise that he was right. Where there was once open space there became the appearance of a delicate little table. In the center there was a small glass vile that Alice immediately compared to the ones in her father’s study. Picking it up she read the tiny note attached to a white ribbon that said TELEPORTATION POTION.
“Now all you have to do is drink that and envision the place you wish to go.”
Since the bottle wasn’t marked poison, Alice thought to herself, most likely it would do me no harm in drinking it, which probably meant I would be able to go home. Maybe this was a silly idea to follow a mysterious rabbit down a hole. It would be best to go home.
Trying not to think of her awaiting sister, Alice envisioned a more agreeable scene of her and Dinah reading by the fire in the family study. Keeping the thought in her head she took the little cork off the nozzle of the bottle and put it to her lips. As she drank Alice wondered at how good it tasted. It tastes so sweet she thought, like cherries.
When she drank the last drop she set it back on the table and waited. Nothing happened.
“Why is she still here Handle?! Why didn’t the potion work?!” The rabbit turned furiously at the door.
Handle seemed to be quite baffled himself.
“I’m not sure. It has always worked when ever…WAIT! Girl what did that potion taste like?”
“Umm well it was very sweet it reminded me very much of cherry tart.”
“Oh no it was the wrong one!”
“What do you mean it was the wrong one?! HOW CAN YOU HAVE MISTAKEN IT FOR A TELEPORTATION POTION!?” The rabbit seemed to be very distressed now.
“It’s not that it is not a TELEPORTAION POTION what is wrong is that one is not meant for humans.”
“What do you mean not meant for humans?” Alice said hesitantly.
“It means that there could be side effects such as sickness or it could be fatal.” Handle said solemnly.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Outlander Double Standard Quotes
Its your own fault, for ignoring me and suspecting me all the time! I told you there was no danger in my going with you, but would you listen to me? No! I'm only a woman, why should you pay any attention to what I say?.....
I think you did it on purpose, to get back at me for what happened in the glade!
In the glade?
Aye! Ye think I should ha' been able to protect ye there, an' you're right. But I couldna do it; you had to do it yourself, and now tryin' to make me pay for it by deliberately putting yourself, my wife, in the hands of a man that's shed my blood!
Your wife! Your wife! You don't care a thing about me! I'm just your property; it only matters to you because you think I belong to you, and you can't stand to have someone take something that belongs to you!
Ye do belong to me!
UUUUUGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!I just want to punch something right now. There are two topics that really gets me angry and they are: rape and gender discrimination. Now these are not the only ones but they definitely make the top ten list for me. When a girl or even a boy is raped (it is possible people) THEY ARE NOT ASKING FOR IT!!!!! Every time I hear some jack ass say 'Oh they were just asking for it' or 'Their clothes implied it' I want to just punch them. Do you people even know that rape is a frickin' crime?! Its a forced assault on another person without their consent! How would you like it if you were tied up, beaten, then sexually VIOLATED! All the while thinking: This can't be happening! Am I going to live through this? Are he going to kill me?
I think you did it on purpose, to get back at me for what happened in the glade!
In the glade?
Aye! Ye think I should ha' been able to protect ye there, an' you're right. But I couldna do it; you had to do it yourself, and now tryin' to make me pay for it by deliberately putting yourself, my wife, in the hands of a man that's shed my blood!
Your wife! Your wife! You don't care a thing about me! I'm just your property; it only matters to you because you think I belong to you, and you can't stand to have someone take something that belongs to you!
Ye do belong to me!
UUUUUGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!I just want to punch something right now. There are two topics that really gets me angry and they are: rape and gender discrimination. Now these are not the only ones but they definitely make the top ten list for me. When a girl or even a boy is raped (it is possible people) THEY ARE NOT ASKING FOR IT!!!!! Every time I hear some jack ass say 'Oh they were just asking for it' or 'Their clothes implied it' I want to just punch them. Do you people even know that rape is a frickin' crime?! Its a forced assault on another person without their consent! How would you like it if you were tied up, beaten, then sexually VIOLATED! All the while thinking: This can't be happening! Am I going to live through this? Are he going to kill me?
Thursday, May 20, 2010
What "Good Girl's & Boys" Shouldn't Do on a Date
The term 'good girl' or 'good boy ' would refer to people who follow the rules of whatever society tells them to follow. But over time changes society so naturally rules change as well. For example a 'good couple of high school students in the fifties' were expected to go on formal dates, meet on formal occasions with each other's parents, and to never do anything that would shame their families name(in other words sex). But now a days people are much more open about there relationships (thanks to the sixties) and it isn't unusual to see a few pages of a teen magazine having teens written conversations about their sex lives with their boy friends.
Probably one of the most common things talked about in these magazines are how girls are scared that their boy friends will leave them for some other girl. Or even worse two timing the both of them by cheating. When some one says that they are going to commit to a relationship with someone they always have to give and expect to receive two important requirements: honesty and respect.If the other party cannot count on the other to be honest than the relationship will most likely fall apart because they will think you have no respect for them. I essential to be honest at the beginning of the relationship because you can’t start based on lies or half truths. Obviously you’ll be caught at some point.
Okay before I go any farther I just want to say that it feels really weird writing about all of this relationship stuff. I sound like one of those overly confident love critics or dating advice people who think that love is just some badly written story.
Alrighty then back on to...So where did these rules originate? How did society make these unwritten rules? Well one of the main answers is religion. As far back to when the human race began to record their history women and men have always had a clear line drawn between them. Men were the hunters, ‘he bread winners’ so to speak, and warriors. While women were expected to stay at home and tend to the childeren. These ideas of women and men are still seen today and enforced in many countries.
Probably one of the most common things talked about in these magazines are how girls are scared that their boy friends will leave them for some other girl. Or even worse two timing the both of them by cheating. When some one says that they are going to commit to a relationship with someone they always have to give and expect to receive two important requirements: honesty and respect.If the other party cannot count on the other to be honest than the relationship will most likely fall apart because they will think you have no respect for them. I essential to be honest at the beginning of the relationship because you can’t start based on lies or half truths. Obviously you’ll be caught at some point.
Okay before I go any farther I just want to say that it feels really weird writing about all of this relationship stuff. I sound like one of those overly confident love critics or dating advice people who think that love is just some badly written story.
Alrighty then back on to...So where did these rules originate? How did society make these unwritten rules? Well one of the main answers is religion. As far back to when the human race began to record their history women and men have always had a clear line drawn between them. Men were the hunters, ‘he bread winners’ so to speak, and warriors. While women were expected to stay at home and tend to the childeren. These ideas of women and men are still seen today and enforced in many countries.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Wonderland chap 1 part 4
At first all Alice saw was complete darkness, she couldn’t even see her outstretched hands that were only a few inches away from her eyes. Then she felt something cool, thin, and distinctly metal like which, as she felt it up, found it was a chain. When she tugged there was a distinct click in which she could suddenly see everything around her. Lamps of all different shapes, sizes, and colors floated around her as she made her slow descent. Some floated on their own while others stood on little coffee tables or stools. There were also several cupboards and book shelves lining the walls they to floated randomly about the tunnels space.
Still not being able to subdue her curiosity Alice reached into one of the passing cupboards and took out a dusty little glass jar. Dusting it off she read the words ORANGE MARMALADE which made her mouth salivate after half swallowing a mouthful of dirt. But to her great disappointment it contents were gone and she solemnly left the jar on a levitating table.
Some of the furniture often came into Alice’s path or bumped into her. Once an old creaking rocking chair came out from behind her and nearly sent her crashing into a round table laid with broken tea cups.
After a few moments passed Alice began to think why she had not reached the bottom and but then again, she thought was there a bottom? And why couldn’t she see the rabbit anywhere? Surely with all of these lights she would be able to see him below her? But all she was an endless tunnel of lights.
I wonder what Charlotte would say if I told her I fallen this long it must have been about five minutes at least. She’d probably think I’m so childish. No she’d probably put her no nonsense face on and won’t even give me a second thought.
All of a sudden Alice felt this strong pulling on her feet as if a pair of hands was tugging on her ankles. Alice was able to let out a little squeak before she was yanked so hard and fast she could only see the lights around her in a swirl together violently into a blended blur.
A cold hard surface met with her body with a loud thump which winded her for several moments. Well that was rather an abrupt ending, she thought. Looking up she saw she was in a rather large room, so large in fact that she couldn’t even see ceiling above her. When she finally got up she looked to her far right and white rabbit scamper towards a two large red doors.
“Oh there he is.”
As she got closer she began to hear the rabbit talking or what sounded like bickering. But when she looked about herself she couldn’t see anything besides the distant walls of the room, the doors, and the rabbit.
“Are you talking to yourself Mr. Rabbit?” Alice asked when she was nearly beside the little creature.
The rabbit whipped around so fast Alice barely had time to react.
“HOW IN THE QUEEN’S NAME DID YOU GET HERE?!!”
Alice blinked a little surprised that such a small animal could make so much noise. And she somehow managed to say her answer.
“Well I followed you down the hole you went through, that’s how. And might I add that it is a very long tunnel. Just how long exactly is it? And-”
“BUT HOW COULD YOU HAVE FOLLOWED ME! THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!” He started to pull his ears again and Alice started to get this urge to touch them. I wonder if they are soft.
Still not being able to subdue her curiosity Alice reached into one of the passing cupboards and took out a dusty little glass jar. Dusting it off she read the words ORANGE MARMALADE which made her mouth salivate after half swallowing a mouthful of dirt. But to her great disappointment it contents were gone and she solemnly left the jar on a levitating table.
Some of the furniture often came into Alice’s path or bumped into her. Once an old creaking rocking chair came out from behind her and nearly sent her crashing into a round table laid with broken tea cups.
After a few moments passed Alice began to think why she had not reached the bottom and but then again, she thought was there a bottom? And why couldn’t she see the rabbit anywhere? Surely with all of these lights she would be able to see him below her? But all she was an endless tunnel of lights.
I wonder what Charlotte would say if I told her I fallen this long it must have been about five minutes at least. She’d probably think I’m so childish. No she’d probably put her no nonsense face on and won’t even give me a second thought.
All of a sudden Alice felt this strong pulling on her feet as if a pair of hands was tugging on her ankles. Alice was able to let out a little squeak before she was yanked so hard and fast she could only see the lights around her in a swirl together violently into a blended blur.
A cold hard surface met with her body with a loud thump which winded her for several moments. Well that was rather an abrupt ending, she thought. Looking up she saw she was in a rather large room, so large in fact that she couldn’t even see ceiling above her. When she finally got up she looked to her far right and white rabbit scamper towards a two large red doors.
“Oh there he is.”
As she got closer she began to hear the rabbit talking or what sounded like bickering. But when she looked about herself she couldn’t see anything besides the distant walls of the room, the doors, and the rabbit.
“Are you talking to yourself Mr. Rabbit?” Alice asked when she was nearly beside the little creature.
The rabbit whipped around so fast Alice barely had time to react.
“HOW IN THE QUEEN’S NAME DID YOU GET HERE?!!”
Alice blinked a little surprised that such a small animal could make so much noise. And she somehow managed to say her answer.
“Well I followed you down the hole you went through, that’s how. And might I add that it is a very long tunnel. Just how long exactly is it? And-”
“BUT HOW COULD YOU HAVE FOLLOWED ME! THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!” He started to pull his ears again and Alice started to get this urge to touch them. I wonder if they are soft.
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