Tuesday, September 6, 2005

Hello!!! nice to be back. Well, school has started. Well, last week anyways. -_-; I miss not be glued to the computer screen with no sleep. T_T
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Monday, August 1, 2005

Hello
Hello. I have a question. Does my music work? It's really starting to piss me off.Grr. Anyways, if it is not please tell me how to get the damn thing working.

Well meet in paradise..
If we meet again that is..
Ivy
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Monday, February 28, 2005

   Anne Rice
Hello mortals! uhhhh i mean humans, uuhh *cough* never mind. Have any of you read Anne Rice's books? I'm reading on now. It's called "The vampire Armand" Thats like all i read, is vampire books. But that's not the point. If anybody has read any good books by her please tell me their titles. I would like to check into the book you recomend. damn it think i spelled that wrong but what ever. -_- Here are the books i've read that are AWSOME, not that they all aren't. Here they are : The Vampire Armand, Queen of the Damned. Damn i need to start reading more again. Or just any good vampire books you would like to recomend(sp?)-_-' Please do.
Well meet in paradise...
If we meet again that is...
*evil laugh*
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Tuesday, February 22, 2005

   Really Random Quotes *claps*
I am free of all prejudices. I hate everyone equally.

The pen is mightier than the sword, and considerably easier to write with.

Whenever I'm caught between two evils, I choose the one I've never tried.

Give a man a fish and he eats for a day. Teach him how to fish and you get rid of him all weekend.

If you're being chased by a police dog, try not to go through a tunnel, then on to a little seesaw, then jump through a hoop of fire. They're trained for that!

A company has come out with a credit card size shotgun that fits in your wallet. The inventor says he invented it to give people a sense of security. Oh yeah, what makes you feel more secure than sitting on shotgun? Now how does this work? What's the first thing a thief steals? Your wallet, oh, now he's got your gun too!

In view of the fact that God limited the intelligence of man, it seems unfair that he did not also limit his stupidity.

The difference between genius and stupidity is that genius has its limits
-- Albert Einstein

My Father had a profound influence on me, he was a lunatic.

Age to women is like Kryptonite to Superman.

The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age.

My father confused me. From the ages of one to seven, I thought my name was Jesus Christ!

It's all fun and games intill some one gets hurt. Then it's hularious.

Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most.

Skill is successfully walking a tightrope over Niagara Falls. Intelligence is not trying.

There are no stupid questions, just stupid people.

If practice makes perfect, and nobody's perfect, why practice?

Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you walk into an open sewer and die.

Everything is funny as long as it is happening to somebody else.

"You have to stay in shape. My grandmother, she started walking five miles a day when she was 60. She's 97 today and we don't know where the hell she is."

Tell a man there are 300 Billion stars in the universe and he'll believe you. Tell him a bench has wet paint on it and he'll have to touch to be sure.

Did you ever notice when you blow in a dog's face he gets mad at you? But when you take him in a car he sticks his head out the window!

Its been a rough day. I got up this morning .... put on a shirt and a button fell off. I picked up my briefcase and the handle came off. I'm afraid to go to the bathroom.

I could tell that my parents hated me. My bath toys were a toaster and a radio.

The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and also to love our enemies probably because generally they are the same people.

In a Battle of wits, size means nothing

Woot!Ramdom Quotes! Gotta love them! :)
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Tuesday, February 8, 2005

Hello
The Highwayman
By Alfred Noyes

Part One

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding-
Riding-riding-
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle, his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred.
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened, his face was white and peaked,
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter.
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say-

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize tonight,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He rose upright in the stirrups. he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast.
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West.

Part Two

He did not come in the dawning, he did not come at noon,
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gipsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching-
Marching-marching-
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window,
And hell at one dark window,
For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest.
They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say-
"Look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!"

She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till here fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like
years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again!
For the road lay bare in the moonlight...
Blank and bare in the moonlight....
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain.

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs
ringing clear.
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding-Riding-riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up strait and still!

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
The musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him-with her death.

He turned and spurred to the West, he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear,
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding-
Riding-riding-
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred.
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.


I love it so!=^.^= Its kinda sad..But i still like it! Hope you enjoy it to!

Well meet in Paradise...
If we meet again that is...

~Nightmares
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Monday, July 12, 2004

The Song of the Wanderer
Across the gently rolling hills,
Beyond high mountain peeks,
Along the shores of distant seas,
There's something my heart seeks.

But theres no peace in wandering,
The roads not made for rest,
And footsore fools will never know, what home suits them best.

But,oh, the things I have seen,
The secert paths I've trod,
The hidden corners world,
Known to none, but me and God.

Yes, the world was ment for knowing,
And feet were ment to roam,
But one who always going,
Will never find a home.

Oh, where's the thread that binds me,
The voice that calls me back?
Where's the love that finds me-
And whats the root I lack?

My heart seeks the hearth,
My feet seek the road,
A soul so divided is a terrible load.

My heart longs to rest,
My feet yearn to roam,
Shall i wander the world?
Or stay safe at home?
~Song of the Wanderer
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Wednesday, May 5, 2004

Your Subject Here
Your Text Here JACK'S LAMENT THERE ARE FEW WHO'D DENY, AT WHAT I DO I AM THE BEST FOR MY TALENTS ARE RENOWED FAR AND WIDE WHEN IT COMES TO SUSPRISES IN THE MOONLIGHT NIGHT I EXCEL WITH OUT EVEN TRYING WITH THE SLIGHTEST LITTLE EFFORT OF MY GHOST LIKE CHARM I HAVE SEEN GROWN MEN GIVE OUT A SHRIEK WITH A WAVE OF MY HAND, AND A WELL-PLACED MOAN I HAVE SWEPT THE BRAVEST OF THERE FEET YET YEAR AFTER YEAR, IT'S THE SAME ROUTINE AND I GROW SO WEARY OF THE SOUND OF SCREAMS AND I, JACK THE PUMPKIN KING HAVE GROWN SO TRIED OF THE SAME OLD THING OH, SOME WERE DEEP INSIDE OF THESE BONES AN EMPTINESS BEGAN TO GROW THERE'S SOMETHING OUT THERE FAR FROM MY HOME A LONGING THAT I'VE NEVER KNOW I'M A MASTER OF FRIGHT, AND A DEMON OF LIGHT AND I'LL SCARE YOU RIGHT OUT OF YOUR PANTS TO A GUY IN KENTUCY,I'M MISTER UNLUCKY AND I'M KNOW THROUT ENGLAND AND FRANCE AND SINCE I AM DEAD I CAN TAKE OF MY HEAD TO RECITE SHAKESPEAREAN QUOTATION NO ANIMAL NOR MAN CAN SCREAM LIKE I CAN WITH THE FURY OF RECITATIONS BUT WHO HERE WOULD EVER UNDERSTAND THAT THE PUMPKIN KING WITH THE SKELETON GRIN WOULD TIRE OF HIS CROWN, IF THEY ONLY UNDERSTOOD HED GIVE IT ALL UP IF HE ONLY COULD OH, THERE AN EMPTY PLACE THAT CALLS OUT FOR SOMETHING UNKNOWN THE FAME AND PRAISE COMES YEAR AFTER YEAR DOES NOTHING THESE EMPTY TEARS.... DANNY ELFMAN
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