C W U M B ii E
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C W U M B ii E
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Post: 54230747_2 created on Thu Sep 10, 2009 11:53 amPosted: Thu Sep 10, 2009 11:53 am
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C W U M B ii E
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Post: 54230747_3 created on Thu Sep 10, 2009 11:54 amPosted: Thu Sep 10, 2009 11:54 am
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      willa holland ; sarah roemer ; kaya scodelario ; dari maximova ; abigail clancy ; pania rose -       mat gordon ; jensen ackles ; robert downey jr. ; lee pace ; hayden christensen ; oliver thornton |
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Post: 54230747_4 created on Thu Sep 10, 2009 11:55 amPosted: Thu Sep 10, 2009 11:55 am
     ashley benson ; clemence poes ; tamsin egerton ; alexis bledel ; pixie lott       ellen page ; olivia wilde ; kristen bell l emilie deravin ; leigh smith ; kate mara zoe havler ; martha penz ; mallla kjartansdottir Kristina Mai chenee -    chris pine ; hugh dancy ; matt dallas ; adam levine |
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Post: 54230747_5 created on Thu Sep 10, 2009 11:56 amPosted: Thu Sep 10, 2009 11:56 am
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darkred, maroon, brown, sienna, saddlebrown, rosybrown, tan, darkkhaki, BurlyWood, chocolate, peru, darkgoldenrod lightcoral, coral, lightsalmon, salmon, darksalmon, orangered, darkorange, orange, sandybrown, goldenrod, khaki, gold, yellow greenyellow, lightgreen, lawngreen, chartreuse, lime, springgreen, mediumspringgreen, limegreen, green, forestgreen, darkgreen, seagreen, mediumseagreen, darkseagreen, olive, olivedrab, darkolivegreen azure, aliceblue, lightcyan, paleturquoise, lightblue, lightsteelblue, powderblue, cyan, aqua, aquamarine, turquoise, lightskyblue, skyblue, mediumaquamarine, mediumturquoise, darkturquoise, deepskyblue, cadetblue, cornflowerblue, steelblue, slateblue, mediumslateblue,royalblue, dodgerblue, lightseagreen, teal,darkcyan, blue, mediumblue,darkslateblue, navy, darkblue, midnightblue indigo, blueviolet, mediumpurple, mediumorchid, purple, darkmagenta, darkviolet, darkorchid, lavender, thistle, plum, violet, orchid, magenta, fuchsia, mediumvioletred darkslategray, dimgray, gray, slategray, darkgray, silver |
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Post: 54230747_6 created on Thu Sep 10, 2009 11:57 amPosted: Thu Sep 10, 2009 11:57 am
ą Ь c ∂ ε є э é ғ ƒ ġ į ї η ø σ φ ѓ § Ş τ † ů ß β Ð đ Ғ Ħ ħ Á á Ć ć É é Í í Ĺ ĺ Ń ń Ó ó Ŕ ŕ Ś ś Ú ú Ý ý Ź ź À à È è Ì ì Ò ò Ù ù  â Ĉ ĉ Ê ê Ĝ ĝ Ĥ ĥ Î î Ĵ ĵ Ô ô Ŝ ŝ Û û Ŵ ŵ Ŷ ŷ Ä ä Ë ë Ï ï Ö ö Ü ü Ÿ ÿ ß Ã ã Ẽ ẽ Ĩ ĩ Ñ ñ Õ õ Ũ ũ Ỹ ỹ Ç ç Ģ ģ Ķ ķ Ļ ļ Ņ ņ Ŗ ŗ Ş ş Ţ ţ Đ đ Ů ů Ǎ ǎ Č č Ď ď Ě ě Ǐ ǐ Ľ ľ Ň ň Ǒ ǒ Ř ř Š š Ť ť Ǔ ǔ Ž ž Ā ā Ē ē Ī ī Ō ō Ū ū ǖ ǘ ǚ ǜ Ă ă Ĕ ĕ Ğ ğ Ĭ ĭ Ŏ ŏ Ŭ ŭ Ċ ċ Ė ė Ġ ġ İ ı Ż ż Ą ą Ę ę Į į Ų ų Ł ł Ő ő Ű ű Ŀ ŀ Ħ ħ Ð ð Þ þ Œ œ Æ æ Ø ø Å å Ə ə • Ά ά Έ έ Ή ή Ί ί Ό ό Ύ ύ Ώ ώ Α α Β β Γ γ Δ δ Ε ε Ζ ζ Η η Θ θ Ι ι Κ κ Λ λ Μ μ Ν ν Ξ ξ Ο ο Π π Ρ ρ Σ σ ς Τ τ Υ υ Φ φ Χ χ Ψ ψ Ω ω • • А а Б б В в Г г Ґ ґ Ѓ ѓ Д д Ђ ђ Е е Ё ё Є є Ж ж З з Ѕ ѕ И и І і Ї ї Й й Ј ј К к Ќ ќ Л л Љ љ М м Н н Њ њ О о П п Р р С с Т т Ћ ћ У у Ў ў Ф ф Х х Ц ц Ч ч Џ џ Ш ш Щ щ Ъ ъ Ы ы Ь ь Э э Ю ю Я я ⅰⅱⅲⅳⅴⅵⅶ ⅷⅸⅹⅺⅻⅠⅡⅢⅣⅤⅥⅦ Ⅷ Ⅷ ⅨⅩⅪⅫ ~ | ¡ ¿ † ‡ ↔ ↑ ↓ • ¶ # ¹ ² ³ ½ ⅓ ⅔ ¼ ¾ ⅛ ⅜ ⅝ ⅞ ∞ ‘ “ ’ ” «» ¤ ₳ ฿ ₵ ¢ ₡ ₢ $ ₫ ₯ € ₠ ₣ ƒ ₴ ₭ ₤ ℳ ₥ ₦ № ₧ ₰ £ ៛ ₨ ₪ ৳ ₮ ₩ ¥ ①②③④⑤⑥⑦⑧⑨⑩ ⑪⑫⑬⑭⑮⑯⑰⑱⑲⑳ ⒶⒷⒸⒹⒺⒻ ⒼⒽⒾⒿⓀⓁ ⓂⓃⓄⓅⓆⓇ ⓈⓉⓊⓋⓌⓍ ⓎⓏ ⓐⓑⓒⓓⓔⓕ ⓖⓗⓘⓙⓚⓛ ⓜⓝⓞⓟⓠⓡ ⓢⓣⓤⓥⓦⓧ ⓨⓩ ♣ ♠ ♥ ♦ ♧ ♤ ♡♢ ❤ ❥ ❦❧ ♥ ♡ ღ ✎ ✐✈☠☢ ✉ ✁☢ ☎ ☏♋ ☯♞ ♚ ♛ ♜ ♝ ♞ ♟ ♔ ♕ ♖ ♗ ♘ ♙ ☠☢ ¤※❝❞ ᘚ ᘛ ᘜ ᘝ ᘞ ᘠ ᘡ œ Æ æ ® © ™ ♀ ♂ ‡ ⌘ ✗ஐ × ♈ ♉ ♊ ♋ ♌ ♍ ♎ ♏ ♐ ♑ ♒∞ ❃❂❁❀✿✾✽✼✻✺✹✸✷ ✶✵✴❄❅❆❇❈❉❊❋❖ ✗✘✚✪✣✤✥✦✧✩✫✬✭✮✯✰ ✱✲✳❃❂❁❀✿✾✽✼✻✺✹✸✷ ✶✵✴❄❅❆❇❈❉❊❋❖☀☂☁【】┱ ┲ ❣ ✚ ✪ ✣ ✤ ✥ ✦ ❉ ❥ ❦ ❧ ❃ ❂ ❁ ❀ ✄ ☪ ☣ ☢ ☠ ☭ ♈ ➸ ✓ ✔ ✕ ✖ *.:｡✿*ﾟ‘ﾟ･✿.｡.: ❀ ❁✿✾ ❃ ✺ ❇ ❈ ❊ ❉ ✱ ✲☸＊ ☜ ☞✌ ♬♫ ♪ ♩ ♭♮ ☼ ☪☽ ☾☀☂☃❂☁ ✩ ✫ ✬ ✭ ✮ ✰ ☆ ★ ✪⋆ ☑ ☒✓✔✕✖ ☹ ☺ ☻〠 •۰•●○●❣◦▪ ▫ ⊙◎ ◐ ◑◕◕ ◘ ◙ ▣ ▤ ▥ ▧ ▨ ▦ ▩￭ ➳ ➽→☇ ☈√ ► ◄ ▬ ▶ ▷ ◀ ◁« » ▽ ▼ ↔ ↕ ↑ ↓ ← → ↖ ↗ ↙ ↘ ▂ ▃ ▅ ▆ █ 『』 〖〗┓┏ ┛┗◢ ◣ ◥ ◤ ─────── |
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Post: 54230747_7 created on Sat Sep 12, 2009 1:31 amPosted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 1:31 am
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Sex. Drugs. Rock n Roll.
Oh, and Vespa was addicted to other things as well: shoes, bags, shirts, heels, bracelets, earrings, skirts, dresses, gold, rings, designer names, and diamonds. Screw sex, drugs, and rock n roll; modern villains were after three things: money, money, and diamonds. Vespa probably had several million dollars hiding away in her lovely Swiss bank account. Another few million were floating somewhere in the stock market. And another hundred thousand or so stashed away in a duffel bag underneath her bed. God, it was good to be technopathic. Screw telepathy and animal mimicry, this was the age of electronics. And lucky, lucky Vespa had a tiny widdle knack for electronics. ATM machines just loved her. Unfortunately, Vespa was loved by the police, her parents, and a certain little ice licker. With her lycra costume, it was only natural that the police men always flocked to her whenever her presence was announced on their little radios. A wild villainess in the tightest material known to man was always a sight for sore eyes, it was surely much more enjoyable than pot bellied murders with tufts of hair protruding from their arms. Oh god, the sight of those criminals when they raised their arms in the air. The sight and the stench was traumatizing enough to declared a federal crime. Screw murder, these men could have been arrested on the context of crimes against humanity. Speaking of crimes, Vespa’s record was completely clean, save for a few parking and speeding tickets. It was unfortunate that Vespa’s mild mannered parents had jumped the gun at such a tiny offense. If only they knew what she was up to now. . . And that was why Vespa actually had to get a - dare the word be mentioned? - job. All that money she was spending had to come from somewhere. Even all the way in Hawaii her parents had managed to connect that dots. The only clues they needed were a few family get-togethers where Vespa showed up with no job and a new bag. Now her parents probably thought she was some high-class hooker or drug mule. The idea was funny. Hooking and smuggling drugs were far too dull for Vespa. It required too much work and time - that was always a no-no. A girl like her needed time to shop and sleep. With her new occupation as a secretary in a law firm and her icy nemesis she no longer had time for those little joys. Frosty the Snowman was making Vespa’s life a complete misery. Actually, no - that was a lie. Mr. Winter was actually part of the adrenaline rush of being oh so evil and bad. A little competition made things fun, being evenly matched made things even more challenging. A little too challenging for Vespa’s taste. Fun is when you know you’re going to win, but get to put one hundred percent in anyway. Fun is when you don’t get caught. Fun is not when your arch nemesis almost tears the mask from your face or the band-aid from over your tattoo. Things were a little too evenly matched. Nothing screws up a computer more than frost bite. Vespa was planning to murder him someday, probably by electrocution or killer robots. Actually, that was what Vespa was day-dreaming about when she actually should have been answering the phone and checking the emails. As a secretary for some prestigious law firm, Hotchkiss and some other name she couldn’t remember, Vespa was actually expected to do work. Tapping a ballpoint pen at the corner of her lips, Vespa didn’t really feel like working. She felt kinda like Clark Kent, which was more than a little ironic. Vespa felt that she had to hide her secret identity behind glasses and a suit. Actually, Vespa hid her identity underneath a band-aid. She had a little tattoo of a thunderbolt below her collarbone and above her heart. If anyone recognized that little marking, Vespa would be in deep s**t. Damn stupid teenage decisions. They always made life so much harder. Just like this boring job. The phone was ringing off the hook. After another three rings she would answer it, Vespa figured, not really in the mood to do anything other than imagine Mr.Frosty’s death. It was near closing time anyway. Soon she would be out the door and into that lycra. |
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Post: 54230747_8 created on Sat Sep 12, 2009 5:06 pmPosted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 5:06 pm
 eric francis lendenhower ( twenty-six ★ male ★ photographer ) sweet ★ detail-oriented ★ demanding ★ romantic ★ introverted C W U M B ii E xxxxxxxxxxxxxmediumseagreen |
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Post: 54230747_9 created on Sun Sep 13, 2009 1:23 amPosted: Sun Sep 13, 2009 1:23 am
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  let me take a mental shot of this moment. drop everything you doing right now and just hold it. click click click
“May I?” Eric asked, peering over at the stroller before wiggling his finger in the toddler’s face. The boy grabbed onto Eric’s finger. He had a nice strong grip. Impressive - this kid was obviously gifted with good genes. Looking at his mother, Eric just knew that this little boy was going to grow up to be a heart breaker. It was just something about his eyes, his coy little smile, and the way his strong fingers wrapped around Eric’s fingers. “Strong kid. Obviously has your genes.” Where was his father? Eric couldn’t help but wonder. It was an odd thought, all this time he had the impression that Sophia Waltz was single. Eric still had that impression. However, the child had to had a father. Sophia didn’t seem like the type of floozy that fooled around or artificially inseminated herself with donated sperm. “Next time just bring this little guy to the shoot with you.” Eric laughed. “No one would yell at you for being late.” Some photographers and staff members probably wouldn’t be too keen on having a child wandering around set. The idea was incomprehensible to Eric, but some people hated children. There were human beings on this planet that just did not like children. Those people, Eric felt, were going to be punished for their stupidity and bad taste with a barren, fruitless life. Wiggling his finger free from the boy’s iron grip, Eric smiled. He was having a ball teasing the toddler. In all honesty, he couldn’t wait to head over to Clarissa’s sixth birthday. The children loved Uncle Eric because he played with them like another child. Except, unlike other children, Uncle Eric could toss them in the air and run around the house with them on his shoulders making loud airplane noises. Personally, Eric’s favorite activity was bouncing up and down on the mammoth trampoline that Clarissa’s family had installed in the back yard. The adults all thought that Eric was “keeping an eye on the children”, but they were wrong. Trampolines were just as charming to Eric as they were to children. “Picking up toys for the little bugger? What’s his name?” |
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Post: 54230747_10 created on Sat Sep 19, 2009 6:34 amPosted: Sat Sep 19, 2009 6:34 am
 and i wanna fall in love with you again i don't have to try it's so easy xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
From lusty novels to theft to vandalism to inappropriate touching, Dalton had seen it all. This lead him to the conclusion that all immoral crimes occurred on (or under) study wooden desks and between dusty shelves. Just today, he had spotted an adult male trying to hide the remnants of his chewing gum in the corner of a first edition of Moby d**k. For one, that was absolutely disgusting. Who the hell tries to hide gum in a book anyway?! Secondly, the classy tub of lard was sitting next to a damn trash can. Dalton had kindly pointed this fact out before skulking away to organize the returned books. For the rest of the day Dalton had to keep an eye on that man. Which sucked, since that man was perhaps the ugliest thing on the face of the earth. Occasionally, Dalton’s eyes would slip to the pretty girl sitting at one of the tables. Talk about eye candy. She was definitely nice to look at. A lot nicer than that fat man who was defiling the first edition of Moby d**k, at least. And it seemed as if she was staring at him as well. Or maybe he just had something on his face. Turning away for a moment, he ran his hand over his face, checking for any drool or food stains. He seemed to be clean. So why was she staring? Either she wasn’t staring and it was just wishful thinking on Dalton’s part, or this pretty girl found Dalton insatiably hot. Haha. Yeah right. Dalton didn’t exactly fulfill anyone’s dirty librarian fantasies. That wasn’t to say that Dalton was completely celibate, but it’s hard to hold down a steady girlfriend when you have a little habit of disappearing on dates. Yeah, that always makes relationships a little bumpy. Telling people that you have the magical ability to time travel is the quickest route to the asylum. Strait jackets and meds were not appealing to Dalton in any sense. That was why he worked at the damn library. No one minded if you disappeared from time to time. Dalton’s boss was hardly around anyway, so if he just managed to poof into a different time and space, there was no one to notice the puddle of clothing. If you worked in paleontology and spent all day digging up dead dinosaurs people would definitely notice if you meant missing. In excavations there were no dusty shelves or stacks of books to hide behind. Sooner or later, Dalton’s fellow scientists would have noticed his little quirk. Then he would be carted off as some guinea pig for a mad scientist with white hair standing on end. Having been an avid science fiction fan when younger, Dalton knew that it would be wise to avoid that fate. So he ditched paleontology and became a librarian instead. At least he could still go to the kiddie section and flip through all of the pretty pictures of dinosaurs. Even if those books were not nearly as comprehensive or detailed as Dalton would have liked, he was ok with just running his eyes over the cartoon rendering of a t-rex and remembering what it was like to at least hope for a normal life. It was that hope that Dalton missed more than anything in the world. Years of experience had taught him that relationships were impossible, that a real career (and not this shitty little librarian act) was impossible, that anything more than subsistence was impossible. The only thing that was proved possible was friendship. A few years ago he had shown up naked and tired outside of some restaurant. Next to him was another human being, just as naked as he was. Dalton Landford had met Audrey Danna Cabrey, a fellow time traveler and a new friend. The two had ‘traveled‘ together several times and occasionally masqueraded as lovers at family functions. It was always good to have someone who could cover for you in case you suddenly disappear. But Dalton wasn’t attracted to Audrey. She was a sexy friend with many benefits, yes. Sex, however, was not one of those benefits. Dalton and Audrey were friends, that was it. The ironic thing was that Dalton found himself more attracted to that pretty girl sitting at the library table. Maybe she could be a kindred soul or a time traveler or something. The chances were slim, but, this time, Dalton couldn’t help but hoping. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Everything else was more like a dark storm cloud. Audrey had to look for the silver lining. Her time traveling, for instance, could be either good or bad. On the con side, her life was a complete and utter mess. There was no steady boyfriend, no steady job, and absolutely no planning. It’s hard to go to auditions when you’re not even sure whether or not you’re going to be present. Yes - that was a pun, a play on words between present (as in attendance) and the present (as in time). Audrey found herself using terrible puns now she was unable to pursue her one and only passion: acting. The stage was completely out of the question. When she was nine Audrey had landed the lead in the school play. She was ecstatic, despite the fact that the role was delivered to her simply because she was the loudest. All the other girls were quiet little mice to Audrey’s attention seeking lion - of course she got the role. Either way, she had worked her tiny little butt off, only to end up disappearing on opening night. Poof she went, leaving her tiny little Annie costume in a puddle in the wings. She had landed out in some strange, strange place. Audrey was alone and weeping because she could never be a star. It was a hard realization to accept at the age of ten. But here comes the pro: a little boy by the name of Ivan Nouel had brought her clothes and the two played for hours before Audrey poofed back to the theater. The director, instead of being sympathetic and wondering where Audrey had disappeared to, yelled at the little girl, revoking the lead role that Audrey had nearly killed herself preparing for. The role of Annie went to some chorus member that had taken the liberty of memorizing all of the lines, songs, and dance moves. That little ho also had the little red dress. Even at that age, Audrey found the entire thing completely unfair and showed up for each show, only to get turned away. In the end, Audrey just took a razor to her replacement’s backpack. That little show of affection made her feel much, much better. The next year Audrey didn’t bother auditioning. She knew that there was no way she could be a stage actress with her little condition. Film would be a possible alternative - but no one knew about time travelers. If Audrey had disappeared while on set or during filming, questions would be raises. More likely than not she’d be rushed to some asylum and experimented on. Besides, Audrey never seemed to make it to auditions. Her body always teleported to another time and space. Either it was her body and some odd genetic quirk doing this, or her subconscious was a genius and knew that she shouldn’t go to auditions. Whatever the case, fame and acting was a no go for Audrey. However, there was one massive advantage to being a time traveler: the stock market. In about two weeks she and Dalton were going to be millionaires. By the year 2015 the two of them would have amassed a combined fortune of one billion dollars. Speaking to Dalton, Audrey learnt that neither of them traveled to the future often. Most of their travels occurred in the past, usually around anchor points. Occasionally, future Dalton or future Audrey would pop back in time and whisper the secrets of the stock market to their respective partner in crime. Keeping up to date with the stocks, bonds, and economic system was now a number one priority for Audrey. Now that she was back from the past - having relayed vital information to Dalton and revisiting her stillborn brother’s funeral - Audrey’s number one priority was clothes. Priority number two was food. Time travel was an energy consuming business. Energy consuming businesses always lead to cake, tons of cakes, cupcakes, and other sugary and frosted goodness. It was amazing that Audrey was not a obese seven hundred pound bedridden tub of lard. Maybe it was all the running she did. Running was the only thing that held Audrey in the fabric of time and space, even her one true passion, acting, couldn’t seem to do that. But there were anchors in time and space. The restaurant Audrey was behind right now was the perfect example. She had traveled to this place several times already. Why? She had absolutely no idea. One thing was for sure, there was a little stash of clothing that Audrey had kept behind the dumpster. Oh crap, it wasn’t there. There was no clothing behind the dumpster. Great. Just f’ing fantastic. Now Audrey was cold, hungry, and naked. On top of that she was peering behind a dumpster. Whoever came upon her now would probably think that she was some psycho homeless person scavenging for food . . . naked. Looking around the alleyway, in a hopeless attempt to find some article of clothing, Audrey noticed somebody else standing in the alleyway. Whipping her head around she could barely make out the outline of a male. Hopefully he wasn’t some rapist or murderer. That would be very bad. “Hey there, you wouldn’t have any clothes would you?” |
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Post: 54230747_11 created on Sat Sep 19, 2009 10:06 amPosted: Sat Sep 19, 2009 10:06 am
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 ALEXANDER FINN PARKER xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxnerds don't usually come in this flavor.
Wendy probably thought he was schizophrenic or retarded or something less then pleasant. Even Finn knew that he was just a sad, sad excuse for a human being. Every other male specimin in this school would have probably let their affections be known by now. Take Tokin Malfoy for example - well, maybe Tokin wasn’t the best example. He was an infamous manwhore and reportedly dry humped everything in sight, even the flouncy herbology-professor-turned-headmaster(iss). But that wasn’t the point; the point was that Finn was not like Tokin Malfoy in the slightest sense. For one, Finn was muggle born. Secondly, Finn was not a manwhore. Finn was anything but a manwhore. In truth, the best word to describe him would be nerd. Ever since he was a child, Finn had been quiet, introverted, and scholarly. Girls and crushes were beyond him. But now Finn had this miserable infatuation with Wendy Aucion and it wasn’t going away. Maybe Finn could ask Tokin for manwhoring lessons or something. Oh god, how humiliating would that be? So now Finn was standing at the edge of the Great Wall, watching as Tokin dragged the Goddess Divine into the hallway. (Although he was oblivious to the perverse intentions of the Slytherin.) Instead of just standing there like the socially-retarded geek he was, Finn decided to make his move. As he walked toward Wendy and her beautiful frame, Finn could feel his heart jump into his throat. AHHHH! He was so frickin’ nervous. What the hell would he say? What the hell could he say? Did she think he was some creepy stalker for randomly walking up to her and trying to breathe out a few words? Did she already think he was retarded and strange? “Umm - hi.” Alright Finn. So the hard part is over. What now? OH MY F’ING GOD! WHAT NOW?! OK, stop freaking out Finn. “Are you going to audition?” Errrr - crap. What type of question was that?! Of course Wendy was going to audition. She was standing in the Great Hall after all. Finn doubted that few people would have waited around just to ask the Goddess Divine if they could do the lighting for the production. Was there even lighting in wizard productions? Did wizards even put on plays and musicals? For some incomprehensible reason, Finn doubted it. Abel was probably making history right now. Either way, Finn was going to do lighting. There was no way in hell he was going to go on stage and ughh - sing. His mother always said that he was such a lovely little tenor. But really, singing? Girls were impressed by dancing, not singing. After all, the muggle movie was called Dirty Dancing, not Dirty Singing. |
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Post: 54230747_12 created on Sun Sep 20, 2009 12:22 pmPosted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 12:22 pm
  i just wanna be where you are tonight i run in the dark looking for some light let me light up the sky light it up for you
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Post: 54230747_13 created on Wed Sep 23, 2009 2:03 pmPosted: Wed Sep 23, 2009 2:03 pm
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  now sit back and watch this story unfold with the fair juliet and her romeo with the fair uuliet and her romeo xx
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Post: 54230747_14 created on Fri Sep 25, 2009 1:18 pmPosted: Fri Sep 25, 2009 1:18 pm
 i'd rather sleep my whole life away than have you keep me from dreaming. xxxxxxxxxxxxxx( TWENTY-ONE. FEMALE. STRAIGHT. MARCH 29. ) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx» » » tallulah candy needs a reality check . . . and a scone. Adventurous and energetic. xx Pioneering and courageous. xxxxxxx Enthusiastic and confident. xxxxxxxxxxxx Dynamic and quick-witted. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Selfish and quick-tempered. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Impulsive and impatient. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Foolhardy and daredevil. That’s what my horoscope says I am. I’m an Aries. A ram. Apparently I like running into things headfirst. Apparently I have the tendency to drop projects. (It’s scary how accurate these things are.) I wonder what the stars would say about le a I wonder what the stars say about l e a p year babies. I'm so jealous of those babies. I think it's the coolest thing ever. February 29. It only happens ever four years. Imagine celebrating your real birthday every four years. So - if I were a leap year baby - I would technically be only five years old. (I wish I was five. When you’re five everything is so much easier.) But every story has a beginning. I’m an author. (Kinda.) I should know that. So I’ll start at the beginning. ONCE UPON A TIME . . .
Instead of going to Italy, or to France, or to India, they went to Kolola Springs It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how I was conceived. This was their second honey moon for heaven’s sake. The point is, when they got home my mother found herself growing heavy. She was ecstatic. Maybe she would finally have a daughter. After xxxxBobby, xxxxxxBilly, xxxxxxxxxBerty, xxxxxxxxxxxshe might finally get that little girl she wanted so badly xxxxxxxxxxxxx(My father wanted another boy. He changed his mind after I was born.) I was born a beautiful baby girl with tufts of red hair and big blue eyes. My parents gave me the middle name Kolola. They thought that I had too much fire inside me. Aries is a fire sign. I had red hair. I also had blue eyes. (I think that my parents inadvertently ended up feeding the fire!) I’m happy! I’m free! You can’t touch that. You can’t touch my (: My childhood was a blast. I was that silly child that kissed the boys. i was that silly child that ran through the fields barefoot. i was that silly child that came home everyday with a new story. i was that silly child that fell in love with pretending. i was that silly child that fell in love with fairy tales. i was that silly child that fell in love with living. i’m still that child ! so dance with me in the rain. so kiss me in the rain. so fall in love in the rain. Because WATER is life. Because FIRE is life. Balance, baby. That was one thing I didn’t have in high school. BALANCE. Instead, I found that I was f BALANCE. Instead I found that I was fa BALANCE. Instead I found that I was fal BALANCE. Instead I found that I was fall BALANCE. Instead I found that I was falli BALANCE. Instead I found that I was fallin BALANCE. Instead I found that I was falling BALANCE. Instead I found that I was fallinginto bed with all the wrong boys. Teachers told me that I wasdumb. I wasn’t good enough. My grades sucked. The only ‘A’ I ever got was in the word F-A-I-L Maybe it’s because I’m such a xs c a t t e r x b r a i n. I’m not dumb. I’m just s l o w. I need someone to sit down and explain the concepts to me. No one ever did that. So I failed. I failed. I failed. Oh lord - did I hate failing. So I went to the boys that made me feel good. (Those, ironically, were the boys that failed as well.) I danced with them. I dated them. I slept with them.
For some reason, dumb boys don’t want to hold your hand. For some reason, dumb boys are that much fun. For some reason, dumb boys make you feel dumb. Smart boy is sweet Smart boy is sexy. Smart boy is my knight in shining armor. Smart boy is my Prince Charming. one day i will find smart boy ! i know it.
Three cheers for a higher education! xhip hip hooray! xxhip hip hooray! xxxhip hip hooray! I’m studying teaching and english. I want to be a teacher. I love to learn. Therefore, I will love to teach. Did you know, you learn the best by teaching? Haha. I’m just being s e l f i s h. AND IT FEELS GREAT ! (It’s a shitty university, but it still feels great.) AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT MAKES IT BETTER? I’m paying my way through university by writing . . . dirty lesbian erotica. Yep. That’s who the elusive Tallulah Candy is. That’s my pen name. That’s my income. HOW COOL IS THAT? super cool. that’s how cool it is. (but my mom would kill me if she knew) So how does one start writing dirty literary porn? Welllllll, it’s all lucky. It’s all fate, baby. I entered a short story contest for fun - you know. PROMPT: taboo love. I have a cousin who is a lesbian. So I wrote about her and her girlfriend. (Their love story is really sweet.) Apparently someone else liked it too. They liked it enough to offer me a deal to write girl on girl books. why not, eh? If only I could write myself a perfect love story. OK. It doesn’t even have to be love. A little sex would be good. . . . . .very good.  That’s the photo of Tallulah Candy Don’t I just look smashing? Dirty books and secret identities aside, I want to be a teacher. There are a lot of kids who need help. Kids like me. Kids who just can’t understand things without a little extra help. SOS Somebody save me ! I’m always falling in love. I’m always falling out of love. I’m always falling flat on my face. I’m always falling into somebody’s arms. I’m never falling into smart boy’s arms. I have a HUGE crush on someone at the tea shop. Why do you think I go there everyday? The scones are fantastic, but . . . Nothing can beat a good scone. (Nothing except maybe a nice steamy kiss in the rain.) A scone is happiness. You can just cut in half and put anything in it. Jam. Cream. Butter. Love. Happiness. Hope. The tea shop has the best scones out there. I can’t help but dream a little when I eat scones. I drift off, far, far away. I don’t know where I go. But all I know is I have no money left. Between writing and a secretarial position at a law firm I don’t get enough. (I’m not that famous for my writing. Not yet, at least.) I spend wayy too much. I love buying clothes. I dress like a dream. Clothes. Shoes. Bags. i’m a romantic and it’s costing me a lot. I NEED TO WAKE UP I need a scone.  |
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C W U M B ii E
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Post: 54230747_15 created on Fri Sep 25, 2009 1:24 pmPosted: Fri Sep 25, 2009 1:24 pm
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 clifford clement cliffton cliff, c, snugglebums ● the romantic ● thirty-seven ● male ● orangered ● C W U M B ii E
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