Biology of the Staple RemoverBiology of the Staple Remover10 years ago in Humor More Like This
The Staple Remover (Connectiva Chompicus), while one of the smaller creatures in the office, still holds the reputation as a much feared predator in the ecosystem.
The most prominent characteristic of the Staple Remover is its four long fangs that give it an almost menacing smile. Non-venomous yet quite sharp, these fangs are capable of latching on to its favorite prey, the Staple, even when it is firmly rooted in its most secure habitat. Its deathgrip secure, the Staple Remover crushes the helpless Staple's defense and drags it out for a viciously rewarding meal. Although more often observed as a solitary animal, a pack of Staple Removers has been known to strip the metal from a conference presentation in less than a minute.
Once a year, the male Staple Remover instinctively returns to the office supply store where it was purchased to engage in a savage mating ritual: the capture and takedown of a Multi-use Color Copier. Many are lost
The Supermarket"How did the exams go?" he asks, a slight stutter in his voice betraying his excited, unvoiced line of questioning: 'Are you leaving us?'The Supermarket9 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
You try, unconvincingly, to say that they went okay – not that you could be sure, yet – and list all the work that you've done; try and prove that you're not a waster, even though you yourself remain unconvinced.
As he speaks, he pulls you down, and you can almost feel his outstretched, grasping hands on you, as he teases you about your future career plans. You've grown up with this national aversion to success, so it shouldn't be a surprise. But it still ruffles your feathers, makes you imagine the unimaginable: failure and a life spent working in this fucking cage.
His questions come to an end, punctuated by the emission of a deep, guttural cough, and he stands to go to the worktop, where he'll prepare his lunch of cheap white bread and margarine.
The fifteen minutes finally draw to an end, and you stand – "See you," "Yeah, see you" –
Grant Me In DeathDarkness pressed in around Éowyn, darkness that was not the dark of night but blacker, the impenetrable dark of dreams. She thought at first that her eyes were closed, but when she reached up to touch her face, to rub the sleep from her eyes, she found them open. Slow terror sank into her bones. Where was she? Had she been sleeping before? What had she awakened to?Grant Me In Death6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
She sat up slowly and found that she ached everywhere; her arm particularly burned, and when she touched it she cried out sharply in pain. She looked down and saw that it had purpled with hideous bruises broken. She touched it again and flinched, but bit down on the cry just in time.
She took a moment to examine her surroundings, but she could see nothing aside from herself. She assumed she was on a bed; she could feel soft furs all around her, but they were as dark as the air.
"Hello?" she called. Her voice cracked unpleasantly, hoarse and scratchy. "Hello?" she tried again.
Things flickered in the edge of her v
limbo: a crossover ficlimbo, a doctor who/sherlock/discworld crossover fic.limbo: a crossover fic5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
featuring: the master, jim moriarty, mr. teatime (and special cameo by crowley).
What happens to our favourite villains when they're "off screen", as it were? (Written for my wifey, Colleen. )
"There was a girl," Teatime said almost dreamily. "A most singular girl. Susan Sto Helit. She killed me," he added as if in afterthought. "Pushed me from a balcony. Most embarrassing, really. My instructors at the Assassin's Guild would be most displeased that I allowed a civilian to outmaneuver me. Even a girl as unique and extraordinary as Susan Sto Helit." (2,701 words)
In the beginning there was nothing. This much can be agreed upon. It's what happened afterwards that has been the subject of endless debate. Some hold that a gray-bearded fellow created everything in seven days, others that there was a rather big bang and an explosion of atoms, others that a sky goddess got frisky with an earth god and the
The word 'Git'The word 'Git'The word 'Git'8 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Okay everyone, this rather short and none story writing of mine, is written here today, because I am really getting tired of people mistaking it for many of the meanings that it isn't.
The word 'Git', is literarily translated as 'idiot', or another more vulgar word which I shalln't say, it begins with a b and ends with d, that's all I will say. It is a common word of mild insult used primarily in England and the United Kingdom.
It is generally given as a name to a contemptable, ignorant or deemed worthless individual who seems to never be able to get anything right.
It can also be used to insult someone generally when exchanging insults at one another, and is used then for its literal translation.
Eg. - "No, that's wrong you ignorant git!"
"He is such a git"
That is how it is used, that is its meaning.
Ways not to use git
Git is not another word for a layer of fat that builds up on young children when they are
an incident at isla nublaran incident at isla nublar, ten/rose, pgan incident at isla nublar5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
(A Jurassic Park crossover of epic proportions! For Challenge 37 crossovers -- at the LJ community Then There's Us.)
"I always liked velociraptors, myself," the Doctor said nonchalantly, making his way around the console and flicking levers and buttons indiscriminately. "The cheetahs of the prehistoric world. Very clever, too; good at problem-solving. It's that big brain of theirswell, big in comparison to most dinosaurs. Not big compared to ours, of course. Bet they're rubbish at chess." (4,475 words)
She told him she'd always wanted to see a dinosaur.
"You know when you were a kid, and you got really obsessed with dinosaurs and had to watch all the documentaries about them "
She trailed off, glancing over the console at him, because she'd just remembered who she was talking to. The Doctor had never been a nine-year-old playing with dinosaur toys in the neighborhood park's sandbox. No doubt h
The BeastThe BeastThe Beast8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In stagnant pools the Beast does sleep,
A lurid gleam denotes its keep;
Twisted trees around it grow,
Bare of leaves and white as snow
The Beast! The Beast! It lies in wait
Deep within the murky lake
And as I passed its fetid lair,
A musty scent did fill the air
A memory from long ago
Of my lost Juriaco
Floated up from days long passed,
Then slipped out from my trembling grasp
The beast awoke with toothy grin;
Its yellow eyes; its heart of sin!
Rising from its foul pond
To break that ancient, sacred bond
And in a moment of silent doom,
My precious hopes the Beast consumed
That surreal love my soul did keep
Was lost forever to the deep
And now I stand beside the pool
Through the spring and through the Yule
Frozen like those ghostly trees
Yearning for my memories
Until at last, should you come by
Only trees would you espy
All of them like me deceived;
Forevermore they can not leave
This twisted forest built on loss
Of dark desires, secrets, thoughts
In stagnant pools the Bea
Silent Night, Frozen HeartSilent Night, Frozen HeartSilent Night, Frozen Heart8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The world is silent
The sky, a dimly glowing ember
Covered in ebony tint
The first night of December
Still as the grey lake
Locked in icy grip of winter
A final breath I take
The mirror begins to splinter
A soundless shatter in the gloom
The pieces melt in warmth belated
Ne'er shall my spirit bloom
The frozen heart is fated
The Leagues BetweenIt was a strange thing, being counsellor to the Théoden King and his family. To be the King's right hand was to be part of his family, and yet not so; to be one of the people Théoden loved the best, and yet not truly be loved. It was a position of limbo, of uncertainty, of distance inches away, leagues between.The Leagues Between5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Gríma was good at navigating uncertainty and duality. His life had always been strange like this one of the people of Rohan, yet never a part of them; child of Gálmód, but never accepted as such. He was one thing in public and another in private, the man with a thousand masks. He knew when he was wanted and when he was not; knew when he could measure the distance in inches, and when it was measured in leagues.
It was not until her that the distance became confused. It was not until her the distance became both inches and leagues all at the same time: feet and fathoms twining and strangling one another, strangling him.
He could not stand to
Storm Chapter 2They told me you were dead, I said to Gríma accusingly, stepping backwards to lean against the door. I pushed against it again, but still it would not budge.Storm Chapter 27 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Oh, they certainly did their best to see me dead, Gríma said bitterly. The Elf's arrow hit me in the shoulder. Even an Elf's aim cannot be precise from such a distance. From where they were mounted upon their horses, it seemed as though his shot had struck me in the heart. The force of the shot knocked me to the ground, and they assumed I was dead. He shrugged slightly. Their mistake. After a moment of silence, he said, You were not with them.
I shook my head.
I wanted to see you, he said softly.
I did not wish to see you, I spat, my eyes glowing with unsuppressed rage. "Worthless traitor."
To my surprise, Gríma did not flinch. "I was wrong," he said softly. "And I am the sorrier for it."
I laughed mirthlessly. "And I suppose you exp
Storm Chapter 5I slept long and heavily that night. Once I was certain that Gríma had left me truly alone I crawled into the bed and fell almost immediately asleep. The night, and my arguments with Gríma, had left me exhausted; and though I slept long, I still felt weary when I dragged myself from the bed the next morning.Storm Chapter 57 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The room was empty when I finally was awake enough to study it Gríma, it seemed, was keeping true to his word not to disturb me. But as I looked about the room I noticed a white gown draped over a chair something I was certain had not been present last night. Frowning, I stormed across the room to grab it, momentarily certain it was one of mine from Edoras. But when I lifted it, I saw that it was new, made of a fabric that was impossibly soft and delicate. I had never felt or seen any gown like it.
That only made me more irritable. I tossed the dress over one arm and made my way out of Grímas room towards his study, and found hi
steam engeniussteam engenius, ten/rose (and special guest stars sherlock holmes, dr. watson, and nikola tesla), pgsteam engenius5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Unexplained deaths in Berlin, and the Doctor and Rose Tyler aren't the only ones on the case
"Course not," the Doctor had said confidently. "You lot won't have trilithium-powered mechanics for at least another, ooh, seven hundred years? In this time, the closest substitute would be a mixture of dynamite, diamond dust, coal, and steamand that would be highly unstable and inefficient. You'd be just as likely to have the weapon blow up in your hand as to have it work against your target." 3,718 words
Berlin, Germany: 1886
It was difficult to move. Which made sense, considering the chains. Proper, solid, no-nonsense chains they were, too, clanking in an ominous way as she moved her arms. No one could claim that they were anything but real metal. They were bloody heavy, too; her right shoulder ached from the strain of standing straight wh
PreferenceDistancePreference7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Isn't judged by the space between our feet.
Isn't counted in numbers whole and neat.
And the halls are filled with slouching ghosts
And the teachers claim to know the most,
But refuse to say a word.
And the hearts of crowds are sacrificed
And the heads of hunters are enticed
To gouge through every word,
And this is the hell that is preferred.
Isn't getting awards and the highest grades.
Isn't running to hide out in the shade.
And the halls are filled with dying kids,
And the truth is what the rules forbid,
Not allowed to say a word.
And the mazes are kept so precise,
Though the problem is the starving mice,
Craving every kept word,
And this is the hell that is preferred.
sticks and stones.broken people like to write poems about how they are broken.sticks and stones.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
they like to turn people into words because no one's heart
has ever been punctured by parentheses, but by god it's not
for lack of trying. in a poem, broken people can have hangnails
and they never have to brush their hair because the tangles
symbolize the time they lost their virginity and there are no mirrors
unless they write about one and force themselves to look into it.
broken people also like to use cliche metaphors
but that is okay because when you are broken
sometimes cliche metaphors are all you have left.
"i am a rose and you think i'm beautiful so you
keep ramming me into your eye, thorn first."
"i am uncut grass and you roll around in me,
joyful, shaking, but when you stop to catch
your breath and look at your forearms you
see that they're covered in hundreds of tiny cuts."
"i am a dandelion. i don't know why but goddamnit
i am tender and damaged and i've already written
a poem where i've mentioned turning into
Storm Ch. 7I awoke the next morning from a hazy dream, one that left me weak and warm and languid in my furs. But as soon as my eyes opened, the dream was gone, every moment of it. The images that had burned so clearly in my minds eye were faded wisps, fingers and words and a warmth I clung to but could not place. Groggily I threw aside the furs and stepped onto the floor, gasping sharply at the cold stone against my feet. The cold cleared my head, and the final images that remained from the dream were gone.Storm Ch. 76 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
I noted that Gríma had left me several gowns from the wondrous wardrobe. I was unsurprised when I noticed the dark blue one among them, thin and smoky and impossibly daring. I pushed that one aside at once. He would never see me in that gown. Never.
My other choices were still fantastic, but they were certainly more modest than the blue dress. He had left me a forest green gown with draping gold sleeves, slit open to expose my arms; the pure white gown he had given me the day previ
Price of VictoryOverlooking the field, thousands await in tranquilityPrice of Victory9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A serenity that is but a disguise for their hearts
Deep inside each man turmoil rages
Waiting for what shall set them free
In the still morning a horn sounds to break the silence
To break the tranquility
Roars of a thousand voices combine as one
A furor set loose from their hearts
Two ranks lurch forward
Hooves ripping at the ground
The earth trembles as they surge towards each other
All at once the ranks come together
A crash of sounds so forceful it rivals gods own thunder
This is where chaos, madness, and mayhem rules
Where heroes are born, from the souls of men long past
Where death the Jack of Shadow has free rein
Steel upon steel, and steel upon flesh
Blood rushing in their ears
Each man living from heart beat to heart beat
Sword stroke to sword stroke
Time does not exist here, it is counted in moments
The sounds of battle fades and the few are left standing
There is no cry of triumph, only the silence of death
Jill the RipperJack and Jill went up the hillJill the Ripper8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
to fetch a pail of water
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.
Up got Jack, and home did trot
As fast as he could caper
He went to bed and bound his head
With vinegar and brown paper.
Jack then died and Jill she cried
And drove a knife inside her
The doctor came and said her name
And her reality became a blur.
Her mother would cry and wonder why
It was with a wall with whom she would chatter
But in Jill's Head in was Jack instead
And the rest just didn't matter
She would cut her arm since Jack could charm
Her with the pretty razor.
So blood would drip from the rip
From her skins thin armor
When her mother came round and Jill was not sound
She cried for the girl's father.
But the razor then came and took the man's name
From the tongue of Jill's poor mother
Her father found Jill who in the blood stood still
The girl was filled with laughter
He took her hand and with stern demand
Asked who had done the murder
She shook her head and
rose tylerrose tyler, a doctor who-as-jane eyre fic (nine/rose), pgrose tyler5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
I got the prompt "Nine as Rochester and Rose as Jane", and this is what resulted.
"Do you find me handsome, Rose?"
"No, I do not, Doctor," she replied readily, shifting slightly in her chair.
A smirk twisted his lips. "Then why were you staring at me so intently?"
Because you captivate me, she thought in the private darkness of her mind. I've never met a man like youyou bewilder and challenge and frighten me, and there is something about you that calls out to me. I stare at you because when you sit framed by the firelight, your profile so strikingly outlined, it is impossible for me to look away. She said none of this, despite the truth of it. Instead she said, "You were sitting so still, I thought to make a sketch of you."
"Very well, then. ..And I thought I told you to call me John," he chided after a moment, setting aside his book and folding his hands in his lap.
"It wouldn't b
usaglashavanje preljubnikausaglashavanje preljubnika8 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
prichamo o svemu i svachemu. poznajemo se neko vreme.
pita me za zdravlje i srecu mog muza ,jer se vec dugo poznaju. uchtivo odgovaram i zahvaljujem se, ali bezobrazno ne uzvracam pitanjem :"a tvoja draga kako je?"... kao da sam svesna sta radim...
namesta majicu... nesto ga zulja..ali samo ramena.
-slichne demone mi imamo samo smo razlichtu taktiku za borbu usavrshili.
Samo je klimnuo glavom i nasmejao se.
-slichni smo po mnogo chemu.- bez oklevanja, i bez grize savesti to izjavljujem. on se ne usudjuje ni da pomisli tako nesto.
-ako o nechemu dovoljno dugo razmisljash to postane (tvoja) stvarnost.
Sad se ...kao...zbunio.ali i dalje se smeshka. verovatno razishlja da li sam u pravu i o chemu bi se toliko intenzivno moglo razmishljati.
ja razmishljam o mrtvima koje sam volela. o trenucima koje bih sa njima podelila. sta sve propushtaju. da li mogu da nas vide ...pa izbegavam masturbaciju...osim kad se bas ohrabrim.razmishljam o tome koliko bih volela kada
ExpenseExpense9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
designer hippies and
throng outside of shopfronts.
100s of $2 badges to show
they're not consumers.
$25 hairstyle, shoes:
converses, keds, haivanas.
Your parents' wallet supports you:
fuck the system, you don't need a job.
another stereotype to play with
another outfit in the wardrobe
it costs more than just money
to live as someone else.
the best thing in life is being free.
15 Fics: Wondrous ScandalTeatime wasnt sure if it was really a proper scandalaside from the Guild Council, only he and Lady Theresa would ever knowbut hed been using the word, if only in his head, since hed first been called into Downeys study. It was an exciting word, full of intrigue and discreet little conversations overheard in shadows, the kind of word youd use for somethingsomebodyworth remembering. It could last forever, if you played it right.15 Fics: Wondrous Scandal6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
It really was too bad that the Council hadnt seen more sense. But it takes more than one man to make a scandal.
breaking a writer's heart.never break a writer’s heartbreaking a writer's heart.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because your name
will forever belong to us.
you will sign it
into every broken bit
and one day, you’ll open a book
next to the words
"let me tell you about the time
i was hurt."
never break a poet’s heart
because between the beat
of the stanzas,
you’ll hear that heartbeat,
proving you wrong
with every line.
never break a writer’s heart
because we will take the pain
and make it into something
you could never live down.
you could live with heart monitors,
that measured the damaged pulse,
doctors who told you,
but you can’t live with the bold strokes,
smooth as a flatline,
that accuse you of being
the best thing
that’s ever happened to them.
you can’t live with it;
our soulmate, now writing.
You, now replaced
by a pen.
never break anybody’s heart
because you’ll cut yourself
on the pieces of it.
and see, hearts heal.
Not What You ThoughtIt never turns out the way you'd think,Not What You Thought7 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Seeking only the thrill of a comical doppleganger,
It turns out so wrong,
You felt so wrong
I'll never sleep again,
With that I've seen enough to kill a man,
I swear never again
They were so surprised,
You're so sick in the head,
The beauty is in innocense,
I swear never again