Canterbury BoratAlong on the trip,Canterbury Borat8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
We meet a nit wit,
Who we come to know as Borat.
Dressed in his nice suit,
Your dog he will shoot,
So hold on to your bird and cat.
His government send,
Him here and they lend,
Him their camera for his shoot.
And so you must see,
Him on the T.V.
Or he will be-a execute.
As a reporter,
He tells tales shorter,
Of America for his land.
But if you a Jew,
He a crush-a you,
Very simply with his right hand.
Beware of this man,
He will steal your sister or mine.
And with no remorse,
He treat her like horse,
He knows it is a-sexy time.
During Murder in the DarkDuring Murder in the Dark8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
During Murder in the Dark, we played our own games.
We had a nook in the corner where nobody ever came and wed meet in there for a few moments at the beginning of every round, snatching intimate memories under the cover of darkness. It started when we were children, and was therefore childishly innocent; wed tap out messages on each others arms, using a mixture of Morse code and our own kind of shorthand that made things go faster. We were thirteen when he tapped out, Can I kiss you? I tapped back Yes, and we had a new game.
It always was a game. It never failed to send shivers down my spine when, as we prepared to part, he whispered in my ear By the way, youve just been murdered. And I know it was the same for him.
Things progressed quickly and within a year I had my hand down his pants as we were making o
What you see - Ciara06You see sin...What you see - Ciara067 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Feather on The Wind- prologueTo say it was a nice day would definitely be an exaggeration. But the ash was sparse and the haze in the sky hinted at something, the faded memory of blue. Best of all, there was a tiny breeze out, playing with the occasional ash flurry, gently pushing it south, back towards the mountain that spewed it instead of settling in Tarislar like it usually did. From her vantage point Benzie could see some neighborhood kids making the best of the break in ash fall. Filter masks over their mouths, goggles covering their eyes, just like the ones she wore. They ran around the park below. Yelling and laughing. Kicking through white ash like snow.Feather on The Wind- prologue8 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Grinning beneath her mask at a particularly high pitched squeal of laughter she stretched. Aware of each part of her body, it's relationship to every other part. Most importantly the relationship of her body to the foot and half of steel strapped to each thigh. Her lithe figure stepped down from the plasticrete ledge running around the roof top as she dre
Don't shave my assLlamas lynch ageing mule; ass shaved.Don't shave my ass4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
BirthingAnother day over, Lek said to himself as he flopped down on the dilapidated couch in his shack in District 9. He took a few minutes to gather his strength before getting back up off the stained couch and cracking open a can of beans. He sat at the table that occupied the corner of his shack and ate in silence, too sore to really enjoy the food.Birthing5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Outside, the usual sounds of the district continued unabated, thus when he first heard the sounds coming from the other room, he barely registered them, dismissing them as more racket from outside. Only when the faint buzzsaw-like wail of a sprawnling in distress brought him back to his senses did he start to pay closer attention. He took a deep breath and paused, the can almost empty, waiting for the sound to repeat itself. When it did, a moment later, along with a faint grunting sound, Lek realized it came from the other room.
On his feet in seconds, he lurched, stumbling and bracing himself on the wooden chair he had been sitting on, before a
even if i told you.you are made of dreams and wishes, you areeven if i told you.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the shimmershake of my nerves over my skin
and the curdling of my stomach. you are the
reason that i open my eyes: so i might countdown
to when my lips might find yours and you can
breathe life into me once more.
you are made of lies and gilded tongues, you are
the tightening of nerves over my spine and the
clenching of my teeth. you are the reason that i
close my ears: so i might never have to hear the
way you twist cheap words into sweet names and
expect me to answer, to roll over and play dead.
you are made of flimsy wings and gossamer, you
are the easy release of breath and the lazy slide of
laughter. you are the reason that i let my muscles
go lax: so i might enjoy the sweetness of discount
happiness, never deep, but the simplicity of ice
cream and picnics and shallow pleasure.
you are made of puzzles and locks, you are the
knitting of brows and the pounding of fists. you
are the reason that i bite my lip: so i might crack
PMDU Temporary Team Recruitment Written FormTEAM NAME:PMDU Temporary Team Recruitment Written Form2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Current Funds: 5st
1st MEMBER SIGNATURE (replace this text with your character's name)
Nature and Characteristic:
Total Points Left: 10
2nd MEMBER SIGNATURE
Nature and Characteristic:
Total Points Left: 10
========== WRITTEN TEST ===========
mika and poThe first time I met Po was the first time I'd ever seen a naga.mika and po5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was midsummer, and would be a few weeks yet before harvesting and feasting and then packing up the village and moving south for the winter months. Every few seasons the naga traders would come from the east and the whole tribe would be buzzing and preparing to do business with them. It was a lot like a wedding or a funeral or the celebration before or after a big hunt, only with a lot more nonsense about foreign fashions and women chattering endlessly about jewelry and men nodding to each other about "good iron". (I guess the naga made better metals than we. They ought to have, since they seem to kill one another with greater zeal than the Plainsfolk.)
Uncle Gram explained it to me then, but I didn't fully understand until some years later. Many years ago, the naga ruled all our lands from one sea to the other. Then I suppose the wolves just got tired of them and made a war against them, and after a few centuries the o
The Culinary Tastes of Aliens"What have you done?"The Culinary Tastes of Aliens6 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
"The juices on your planet are delectable," he said, as though he hadn't heard her. She looked around her kitchen. There was blood and fur everywhere, and were those bits of bone?
"You ruined my juicer!"
He gave the appliance a dirty look. "Yes. You should probably go and purchase one of higher quality."
She was afraid to ask, but morbid curiosity took over. "What did you use?"
"I believe you call them 'squirrels'. Tomorrow I shall catch the avian you call a 'bluejay'. If it tastes half as good as the squirrel I believe I shall stay here for a long time."
DhampirDhampir8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Integral stared at herself in her cracked bathroom mirror for several minutes, lost in thought as she studied her eyes and the very stark lines of stress gathering between her brows. She leaned against the sink, her teeth grinding as a fresh wave of nausea came upon her. She turned quickly, throwing the lid and seat of her toilet up before hitting her knees and retching once again into the porcelain bowl. Little resulted outside of dry heaving considering she'd already emptied the contents of her stomach twice within the hour. When it seemed to be over she pushed herself up again, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before returning to her previous position staring into the mirror.
How could this have happened? How was it even possible?
She glanced at the offending piece of plastic that sat on the edge of the sink.
She closed her eyes, her brows knitting as she bowed her head. She though
Buyo - The StoryBUYOBuyo - The Story5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
- A Sess/Kag story told from the shrine cat's perspective.-
(©2010 by M. Skirvin. All characters are owned by R. Takahashi.)
Around the courtyard grounds, sounds of distant traffic could be heard, intermingled with the songs of birds in nearby trees. The afternoon's bright sunlight spilled across the courtyard stones of Sunset Shrine and lanced in through the partially open doorway of the old Bone Eater's Well building.
Within the gloom-filled interior, sunlit dust motes sparkled and swirled lazily downward in cool silence. Beneath the translucent lance of light gaped the wood-framed mouth of the Well itself. Deep, ...dark, ...and dry.
On the wooden walkway in front of the ornate building lay Buyo, a portly calico cat, who stretched and turned so that both sides of his ample body got equal amounts of sun toasting. He lay with his large eyes half-lidded, watching the pigeons being rude again and pecking at the s
federal express EDITon wednesdays, anne would wake up at nine o'clock.federal express EDIT6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
she would take a shower at nine-thirty, after she made herself a small cup of coffee with a teaspoon of sugar and a drop of milk.
by ten o'clock, she was dressed. anne would spend the next hour and a half in the kitchen, baking cranberry scones and picking tea leaves from the small pot next to the coffee grinder.
at eleven-thirty, anne would be finished with the scones and fresh tea. she would take to pacing in front of the large picture windows at the front of her house- he would be here in thirty minutes.
anne's nervous tics showed when she was pacing. her fingers would wrap around her projecting wrists within the first few minutes; she would begin to wring them shortly after; then she would begin scratching along the veins with her always-painted-red fingernails, never drawing blood but leaving welts. her hands would move quicker the closer the minute hand crept toward twelve.
he would ring the doorbell. anne would stop d
The Last DayDistant thunder approaches the temples of old. The vibrant forests beneath them are shaking with shattering detonations. As they reach the platform together, the sky has turned as red as blood. Foul shadows are raining down to the left and right of them, staining everything they touch with death and darkness. It has begun. The shields are failing.The Last Day6 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
The viewer is unable to move as fast as the armed warriors accompanying him, his body so weak in spite of his mind so strong. The all-female servants are keeping him in their middle, as if to protect him. Still, they look up at him like children, with hope in their eyes. They are fearless, loyal, and determined to see this last day through.
The viewer, however, knows this is the way the world ends.
Before they proceed, they meet up with another group of warriors. They talk in the high language, urgency in their young voices: This is the last they could find. May the Elders be with them all.
Although the viewer knows of its futility, haste is
Drop. Burn. Repeat. Echo.There's a pitter-patterDrop. Burn. Repeat. Echo.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's rushing, a million falling things,
a chorus of sounds
repeating over and over,
A hiss, beans falling inside old wood
a sound of the old disappearing, rattling,
I can't help it.
Because of how much the fire sounds like the rain.
(They could both swallow everything).
DBGT: Broly: Final Clash 2DBGT: Broly: Final Clash 210 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
DBGT: Broly: Final Clash
By: Jodi Lynn Barrett
© 2004 Original Author of Dragon Ball Z/GT: Akira Toriyama
Vegeta appeared in the front office of the Capsule Corp. building. People around him stared at him in shock, but he simply ignored them. He stormed up several flights of stairs and into a hallway. He passed a few doors before entering one of them. He slammed the door behind him and stomped his way to the kitchen where he ran into his son, Trunks.
Trunks had matured in the many years since the dragons attacked. He was twenty-eight now, and looked exactly like the Trunks that had come from the future. He even wore a Capsule Corp. jacket over a black tank top with black pants.
He turned to face his father. His lavender hair swayed with the movement and his blue eyes lit up when he took in the image of his father. "Father! You're back early. How did things go in the tournament?" He asked cheerily.
"Terrible! Kakarot abandoned the fight!"
THE DARKMAKER'S BACKGROUNDTHE DARKMAKER'S BACKGROUND8 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
The History Of The Darkmakers
-- The Light Bearers --
The origins of The Darkmaker Legion is a mystery however recent investigation reveals that they may of originated from around 4 Millennia after the 'Horus Heresy' as a loyal marine chapter known as the Light Bearers. This chapter possessed librarians who had the ability to heal, and it was believed to be derived from the Emperor. This allowed them to avoid casualties over a long period of time.
Although they weren't blessed with a homeworld like most chapters the Light Bearers became a beacon of hope for humanity across the Scarus sector near the Eye of Terror as they fought of invasions from both the Orks and Chaos.
-- The Unstable Geneseed --
But after several centuries it became apparent that a minor mutation had rendered most of their geneseed unusable. The Chapter now became dependent upon their healing abilities to remain at combat strength while questing for a cure as they could no longer induct new members. The chapter start
Silent LightsSilent Lights7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Flux Studios presents
= Silent lights & splendid nights =
"I'm flying!" cried the girl.
She shouted in her heart anyway because all she could do right now was gawk at the rooftops and clothes lines and trees passing below her. She stopped feeling uneasy a while ago, holding on to her companion's hand. It was big, white and strong, its grip firm enough to ease her fears away.
She turned to her right where her new friend was. He looked very strange. His skin was all white. And he had long white hair. Which was nice. She found out he could use it to climb down from the door in the sky. That's where he came from. She thought it was a very strange place to put a door. But he said there was no other way for it.
She wondered why he only had two eyes on his face and nothing much else. His eyes were golden like her hair. And when he looked at her, she saw something familiar in there... in his head. She couldn't figure out what this familiar thing was yet. But she still knew it was there, and fe
My DemiseHave you ever had a secret, a secret so powerful, that it could destroy a relationship you had with a brother, or a sister, maybe even a best friend? I have one, and I have been hiding it for a few years now. My secret, I am a vampire. It may not seem like the worst secret in the world, but to my family, it is like discovering I am death.My Demise8 years ago in Teen More Like This
I am not even sure how I came to be what I am, all I know, is that I am. For years I have had to try and pretend to eat the food put in front of me, and because I can't eat it, my family has thought me to have an eating disorder, but yet, I haven't been looking skinnier, or sicker. In fact, since I have been turned, my body has turned for the better. My skin is clearer, and my eye sight is much better, I can see things that normal people wouldn't be able to. My hearing is better than that of a dogs and my speed is exceptional. But my family hasn't noticed this as much as I have, as I have become more distant from them, not wanting them to find out wha
skinless boy pt. 1do you want to hear from me? i have letters to send you. i dont have your address. i dont have your goddamn phone number. youre not fucking real to me anymore. youre empty space and you went and forgot me, pretty boy. you dont know what it feels like, pretty boy. i just sit there, cradling my tea in my knees, shaking and spilling chai and sugar over naked skin. it hurts, but so does everything. you give me nothing so i just think and bleed and love how cars crash and panicked mothers mutter, is everyone okay? is everyone okay? because forever, this is 'no.' we are children of mud and how the fuck can we be okay when we are drying up.skinless boy pt. 15 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i love you, am i allowed to say that? i dont even know how to talk to you anymore. its all smoke and pot and beer and sex and the mess that all of that makes and how your fucking carpet will never be white again on those blac
Spinebone.Spinebone.6 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
She left the window open tonight to shiver out the food she couldn't purge. Left herself available, vulnerable, laid her corpse out with her ribcage regalia on display-- all breathe in breathe out with the quickening pace of the heartbeats in her head-- for the walls, for the sky, for the gawkers and the pointers and the perverts to see, oh, to see how fat and disgusting and terrible she really, really was.
She pressed play.
"... you're wrong, you know."
"Yeah, I'm wrong, then. You say I'm wrong, so--"
"...it must be true."
Ghosted lips and scripted words. She'd listened to it enough times now to whisper the words by her failure of a heart.
Fast forward. Play.
"--nd it doesn't take a genius to figure out that nobody is good. Nobody. And anyone who thinks otherwise is a fucking fool."
"--who thinks otherwise is a fucking fool."
"-- is a fucking fool."
It was the truth and Riley knew it. Too well. Too, too well. So much s
ThermopylaeHere we stand, for all to see,Thermopylae8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We know not what will be.
Against the night, we must fight,
Seeding death with all our might.
Spear and shield, guard our side,
In a gap three and ten yards wide.
For three long days do we hold,
Against their strength we will not fold.
Ten thousand come, the Medes charge,
Xerxes mistakes our defiant heart.
On our line a few do fall,
Honoured men one and all.
They are thrown back, and so they learn,
Here we stand until we burn.
Xerxes commits his very best,
Swarming from the heart of the nest.
Ten thousand strong, the Immortals come,
But against our spears their days are done.
Again retreat the Persians do,
Xerxes' fury is beyond all due.
Around our flank, the Persians march,
The vile traitor will be marked.
The rest retreat, now three hundred stand,
The finest heroes at Leonidas' command.
To their final breath, they draw their swords,
Hercules' descendants making war.
When at last we all are slain,
We know the Persians will fear our name.
Though our men n