понедельник, 20 октября 2008 г.

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So much ballyhoo has been said about Obama and Ayers...so why has it
taken so long for someone to bring up Gordon Liddy/McCain? Hereapos;s a man
who was a burglar for Watergate and has encouraged his listeners to
shoot government agents:

"Now if the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms comes to disarm you
and they are bearing arms, resist them with arms. Go for a head shot;
theyapos;re going to be wearing bulletproof vests...Theyapos;ve got a big target
on there, ATF. Donapos;t shoot at that, because theyapos;ve got a vest on
underneath that. Head shots, head shots.... Kill the sons of bitches."

Now, Liddy in fact did hold a re-election drive for McCain in his
livingroom. He was a thief, encouraged violence against the government
and has helped McCainapos;s election. But it wasnapos;t until David Letterman
that it was finally brought up. Why?

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Ann Scar is not as much as a person as it is a soon-to-be-famous rock band. It all started during this summer when two friends, eager to create a new band, formed the solid foundation of what today is Ann Scar - the band. After a few months of creating songs and searching for musicians, the band has finally got to a stage where the only part left of the progress is to rehearse and develop. Now, this may sound somewhat easier than it actually is, this is, however, the fun part. I am thrilled with the sensation of being a part of this project, I have a feeling that this will be great someday.



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воскресенье, 19 октября 2008 г.

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YUUTO
(October 19, 2008 @ 12:17)
---------------



Photobucket

It is isnapos;t it?
Right now, itapos;s the drinking episode.
But it isnapos;t realtime.

Still I want to do a self satisfying-like update soon.


Last night, I felt like work was breathtaking so for nearly one hour I went drinking with friends.

They were the friends who gave the motive to start loving music, they said they would help by supporting SCREWapos;s activities.



I want to believe that they will give us support.



Because I woke up, even though Iapos;m still on my computer, Iapos;m going to go at full speed.


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Hi all.
well its a monday, and a fine and semi boring one at that.
This is actually good, since I really donapos;t want to do much work.
computers are running fine, no errors, yesterday I put flash 10 on the systems.
there are some more sound drivers as well as network updates for the systems which I will not put on.
there are a few things and reasons why I will not.
Firstly I just donapos;t feel like that.
secondly I think that I already put these things on.
At least I think so, at any rate Iapos;ll just wait till new ones come up again, not a major issue as it is.
Today I discharged the battery and ran the wireless on battery to see how long it would take to power the things.
system lasted 1.5 hours maybe it could have lasted 2 but I was going into serious software testing and didnapos;t want tings to go plunk while testing.
later

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суббота, 18 октября 2008 г.

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It was one of those days that was unbearably hot, when the sun beat down on the world and the grass itched your ankles when you ran in it. A four year old Jennifer Little wrinkled her nose and wiped the sleeve of her purple T- shirt as the yellow rubber ball went sailing past her. Snapping back to attention she ran after it as fast as her short legs could carry her. The local park was big and it was very easy to lose a ball there. She had already lost two to the vastness of the grass field and the marsh beyond. Luckily her ball was caught a ways away by a man in a black T-Shirt and jeans. She walked over to him cautiously as he bent and picked it up. He kept crouched down as she approached. His light brown shoulder length hair fell into grinning green eyes that pierced her as he held it up for her to see.

ldquo;Is this your ball? You should be careful with ithellip;rdquo; He had a young voice although he still sounded like a grown up.�Jen gave him a look that she hoped was grown up and tough but came off looking unsure and childish.�ldquo;Irsquo;m not aprsquo;posed to talk to strangers.rdquo; The manrsquo;s grin widened.

ldquo;My name is Ian Matherson, I just moved up the street. Whatrsquo;s your name?rdquo;

ldquo;Jennifer Little.rdquo; He grinned and handed her the ball. ldquo;See wersquo;re not strangers anymore, are we?rdquo;

She shook her head, sending her strawberry blonde pigtails bouncing in the sun. ldquo;How old are you, Jennifer?rdquo; She smiled at him and proudly held up four fingers for him to see.

ldquo;This many, how old are you?rdquo;

ldquo;More than that many.rdquo; He chuckled pushing her bangs away from her face. ldquo;Yoursquo;re such a pretty little girl. Did you know that? Yoursquo;re mom and dad must be so proud.�Cute little red heads like you are hard to come by. Yoursquo;re lucky.rdquo;

She looked at him curiously.�ldquo;Why?rdquo; Ian cupped her chin and quirked his head like he was studying her. Memorizing her. It made her slightly uncomfortable. ldquo;Because you will always have someone to take care of you; someone to watch over you where ever you go.rdquo;

ldquo;You mean like God?rdquo;

ldquo;Even better than God.rdquo; She trembled at that, involuntarily. Her name floated out over the breeze as her teacher called for her.�She took a step back into the direction of safety. ldquo;Ian...rdquo;�He closed his eyes in relish at the sound of his name coming from her...

ldquo;Yes, Jen?rdquo; She took another step back... ldquo;I have to go.�My teacher wants me.rdquo; Little did she know a lot of people wanted her.�But only one person was going to have her. Only one.�Hersquo;d let her go for now.

ldquo;Goodbye then, Irsquo;ll see you soonhellip; little Jen.rdquo; Her eyes widened at him before she took off running in the opposite direction. His green eyes glued to her until she reached her teacher. His eyes narrowed at her as she ushered his Jen to the waiting bus.

ldquo;Soonhellip; Very soon.rdquo;����������������

��������������� Ian Matherson stood outside the quaint little house looking in through the glass window at his little princess. It wasnrsquo;t hard to track her home. She was unmistakable to him now. He had memorized every inch of her face; every dip and pitch of her young lilting little voice.
�She was beautiful and innocence personified, and oh how he treasured that. His Jennifer Little.
����� And she would be his.
�His jaden eyes followed her every move through the glass. Jenrsquo;s gait was slow and melodic as she wiped her eyes sleepily, and sped up a pace once her feet hit the cold tile of the kitchen floor. She stopped in front if the stainless steel doors of the refrigerator door and pulled them open for a drink. Pulling out a pitcher of iced tea, she set it on the counter and turned. Jen froze as she peered outside into the dark. There was a shadow lurking there. She couldnrsquo;t tell if it was a man or an animal, but the way the moonlight hit it just right made its eyes flash an eerie green.

Ianrsquo;s heart raced as the little girl hersquo;d been watching looked right at him, her turquoise eyes widened in cautious fear. He wanted her to know that she never had to fear him. A part of him grew angry that she even dared look at him that way.�He wanted that wary curiosity that she gave him at the park. Let her look at him like that again.

Let her call his name again.

He closed his eyes in reverence of her sweet voice and how his name rolled off her tongue like candy. �He trembled at the thought, before gazing deeply into her eyes with his own.
ldquo;Jenhellip;rdquo;
He reached out for her, a look of pain and longing on his face. His hand collided with the cool glass of the window. The sound startled her with a jolt and she shot from the room at high speed. Ian let his hand trail down the glass, soaking his palm. He pulled his baseball cap lower over his head and stuck his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as he turned away from the window.

ldquo;One day, my little Jen, one day you wonrsquo;t be able to run from me. You wouldnrsquo;t want to.rdquo; He took a deep breath of the hot night air and shuttered at the thought of the little red head girl before disappearing into the wooded area behind the house.



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пятница, 17 октября 2008 г.

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I will not stress about the things I cannot control...
I will try to look on positive side of things...
Even if it takes a bit longer to get things to where I want them to be...
I will redefine how I view my world...
And find a way to get what I want out of life...


I just need to take one step at a time.


If anyone has any good quotes or posters that enforce the above sort of sentiments, I would love to put some inspiration up at my office and home to help me concentrate on positive ways to look at life rather then dwelling on the negative. Iapos;m tired of stressing about things like money and where I want to be with my life. I need to change the way I view these things. But Iapos;m gonna need all the help I can get. :)
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Sabeapos;s still having magic problems and is now apparently sprouting flowers at random. Also, her mana tastes like burning.

Note to self - too much mana, or at least, too much of Sabeapos;s mana = BAD�THING. Makes my head go all floaty and my stomach go all weird. Got a headache now, too, hoorah. Just what I needed. Carsis and�Sabe both said I was high off the mana - if that is what being high is like, Iapos;m not interested.

I wish Sabe and Carsis would stop sniping at each other. Itapos;s starting to get annoying. Maybe this is what it felt like whenever T. And I were arguing around them. Not that that it matters any more.

... Met a rather interesting individual after Sabe and Carsis had both left. Lokasenna, I believe his name is. I donapos;t think heapos;s quite right in the head - but then again, who am I to judge such a thing?�Certainly quite eccentric, at the least. No real concept of personal space either, I�think. Seemed harmless enough though. To others, anyway. To himself?�Probably not so much, but thatapos;s not my business.

... Ugh. Head still hurts. Should probably at least try to get some sleep before the gathering thing tomorrow.

Or just go kill things for meat, do some cooking.



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