Twilight is far better to watch if you pretend Edward is an Elf/fairy cosplaying as a vampire, I mean he sparkles for Goddess sake. He must be a fey like creature. Of course you may get funny looks when you shout shoot them with your bow and arrow when the bad so called vampires come. All in all Edward is the worst vampire for like ever! And yes I’m counting The Count from Sesame Street as a better vampire then Edward.
As my friends in real life know I have a slight speech problem. What gets me is the amount of people that think it’s amusing to ask, “Do you always speak like that,”
“No I just speak like this for your amusement. Sometime I get bored and like to mispronounce each letter of the alphabet, changing the letter daily. I did struggle when I got to x, there’s only so many time you can slip xylophone into a conversation. Did try mispronouncing x-ray as z-ray but I got approached by the Sci-Fi channel to do some B list movie, probably co staring Edward Furlong…”
In conclusion some people are morons. And yes every time someone Wally asks me this question it deserves a Loki facepalm!
I really miss my Dad who passed away a few years ago. He was always trying to make people laugh, with his lame jokes. I always remember how when we did the weekly shop to the supermarket and he was dancing to some cheesy song that was playing. I remember feeling red faced by his antics, but he was always there for my sister and I.
When I here about kids who never see their dads it makes me think how lucky I was to have my Dad. He was a goof ball, sometimes I would feel a little red faced but looking back he was a great Dad. Always joking, being somewhere between a very wise old man and a naughty school boy.
I never remember him drinking, apart from a shot of whisky at Christmas, and I never remember him swearing. Him and my Mum were soul mates, and I never saw them have a full blown fight.
He had high morals, and I remember as a child when he lost his job he wouldn’t sign on. Even though I wanted the free meals at school because we got milk lol. In that time with little money was probably the best time of my life. He got rid of the TV because we couldn’t afford the licence, but the nights were spent playing bored games, or listening to my sister reading.
Anyway rest in peace Dad, I’m sure if there’s an after life you are causing mayhem.
Love you Dad XXX
I was walking through the centre of town the other day and I found a hat with £12.50 in it.
I would have thought this other bloke would have picked it up, but he was too busy playing guitar.
I still think the next Doctor should be a woman, and it should be me.
Some Villian: “You’re a girl.
SV: And you have a stupid flipping speech problem!
Me: Get the flip over it mother trucker! (And then I will sonic them, because I will also be bad ass)
I jest of course, but they is rumours afoot it could be a woman. I also heard the Doctor could also be different race other then white. Both would be cool. If it’s a woman though I hope they have a better writer then Moffet, he writes some great plots but I don’t think he’s that great at writing women characters. To me both Amy and Clara seem very Mary-Sue like to me. Like Moffet is writing text book female characters that he think women would like.
Both of them are very pretty, who are slightly sassy. I don’t find neither of them annoying but to me they just don’t seem real. At least their not like Mel who was with the sixth Doctor. Gosh I could have strangled her lol.
Okay growing up I was bullied. I had and still have a bad lisp and I’m dyslexic, so one thing you don’t want believe it or not is a super left wing parents who were obsessed with social rights, or certainly they were for the eightys anyway.
My dad who was super cool now in my adult eyes (R.I.P Dad) would never buy me expensive trainers, why because he said he was paying £80 out on trainers that was made for pennies and probably by young kids works for a few pence a day. So I always landed up with unbranded trainers which the other kids teased me for. And to make things worst my dad used to drive a little three wheeler car, all the other kids used to tease me that our family car only had three wheels.
My parents used to say the other kids were jealous, but what did they have to be jealous about. Couldn’t my parents be like the popular kids parents who forked out on expensive stuff they didn’t need and couldn’t sleep at night over how much debt they were in…. I get my parents point now.
This is my wonderful niece singing. Please give her listen and maybe comment on youtube.
A brief introduction to a story I started writing.
It had been many years since I had dared look upon the moon in all her majesty, to feel on my skin the gentle rays that were the opposite to the harsher rays of her morning counterpart. The soft silver light of the moon being at full bloom lit my way as I followed the winding path that led to my childhood nightmare.
You might ask why I would return here, what I possible could achieve as I left the main highway and walked a path that was overgrown and hadn’t be travelled for many a year. Yet here I was; the brittle autumn leaves that had fell from the trees crunching under my feet, my breath freezing in front of me like the smoke of cigarette.
I was scared, following a path that I hadn’t walked since childhood, a path that led to a small cottage that once belonged to my beloved Grandmother. The memories of freshly cooked biscuits and the sweets she kept hidden from my young hands had long ago been blocked out by darker fear inducing visions of her death.
No child should have to witness that, and her death was one to go down in history. So much blood and the screaming. I had lay cuddled under my patchwork bed covers has I heard her screaming, mixing with my own sobs; and at the centre of my nightmare was the eyes. Yellow and cunning eyes, the eyes of something I didn’t want to think about, and of something no one would or wanted to believe, and now twenty five years on my thirtieth birthday I was going to revisit the cottage.