A few hours later then usual

Hey all, life is so-so today, and that is that. This post is a few hours later then most, but that is not import, Ellen was not in writing this week, which is import, as it means the writing activities where not that great:
The first was about putting together verbs with nouns, they'll be coloured and underlined.

"And that is how a dragon killed my entire home city except me!" Boasted the bold man across from Caydas. Caydas just stared at him and pointed at the door, to which the ruffian walked to in much digust, this was going to be a long day. So he tapped his fingers on the desk waiting for anybody to come. He placed a crystal on a stone and spun it, carving a picture on the slate. He missed his home but the dancing crystal reminded him of the glories of his city. He was about to get out of his chaor and leave the recruitment centre when a shadow meadered across the slate, the stone faded from the light.  The shadow was monsterous in form, like some sort of flying fiend, a destroying monster, something that if you killed, it's blood would hunt you down and drown you, painfully. He looked and saw not one but three figures. A smaller then average green skined Orc, to whom gadgets and gizmos hung to, a rather bald gnome with a large axe and a human girl with dragon horns, tail and wings, in expensivly posh but pratical clothes.  The girl bent down to go face to face with Caydas.
" Ye want to join my group?" Asked Caydas, the girl raised her eyebrow,
"You're the only one here, so I geuss you woild be joining our group." replied  the girl.
"Actual I've got a robot wizard and a human, but nymphomaniac, ninja. The only thing is they haven't meet yet." Retorted Caylas.
" So normal trees lie and birds guard-" The girl as the door smashed down by a blast of magic and a machine ran across the room being chased by a female, and rather buxom, ninja, with the robot screaming:
"Catdas, save me fro this madwoman!" Caydas simply dropped his head to the table, this was going to be a very long week.

This other story started with a line page 999 from a book:
" The french also being the most sociable, vanist and least selfdependant." Read Thane outloud to his cohort, who shook her head in relpy.
"Too well known a country, and that hardly describes their ambassador to this meeting," Said Lucius as he walked into the room, Thane and his cohort, Margret, looked at him.
"He is mostly untouchable and doesn't mind comments on his misstress. Bloody French Bastard." Continued Lucius " Thats why I've picked who we are going to blackmail, the ambassador from Licheinstein. I've found plenty of blackmail on him, mostly deals with terrorist. Perfect for fighting those damn Americans. Suzzy and Clark are already on the job." Thane thought for a second about this;
"So Mr.Cain, what are we doing for this plot." He asked Lucius smiled,
"Thane, you're making masks of you, Margret, Suzzy, Clark and Me. Margret you get the dry cleaning back five o'clock. We've got to arrange an alibi so interpool can't pin this on us, even though the evidence on camera says otherwise.

This week was only so-so, our graduation was so SSSSSSSSSSSSSCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEDDD,
I had to make a speech on BT Young Scientist, Yeah! ( Sarcastic). And our funday was only so-so, I don't know why. I think I got legal depressed, I'm not quite sure. But that's not all the evils in my life, I wasn't invited to a party on thursday, AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!! But  I don't care after a certain point, modern-mainstream-music is just annoying.
Actuall, has anyone seen the New Scrubs episodes? I think Lucy is just to winny to be a good lead character. Dew is a much better character to follow then Lucy, he is snarky and clever, like a young Dr.Cox except without a ponytail ( Mentioned in one episode.), plus he would have an excuse for the voice in the head, he didn't haven't anyone smart enough to talk to in, so he created a voice in his head to talk to.
Two Last things:
1) Watch this video, it give some good points on it's subject, and watch the others.
    &
2) Martin Woodhose doesn't quote Chuck Norris facts, he says something and suddenly Chuck Norris can do it!
         The Random Quoter,
                                    Myself

Some hell of a exciting (boring) week

The hour of joy has arrived, I'm putting up another post. Today, might be the apocalpse but if you read this beyond tomorrow, don't worry, unless seven angels are on the news for giving speeches at sevral speeches, then we're SSSSSSSSSSSSCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDD
But otherwise okay. I'll now put some writting onto this blog. The first I had to use five particular words, they are in italics:

Morgan danced around the room,
His feet pranching across the attic ceiling,
life was sweet,
life is sweet,
life will be sweet,
as his enemies fall and his fortunes rise,
so the world rumbled,
as you stagger in his shadow,
your life broken, like a fallen vase,
as your corpse is beyond a fence,
which hides those demon beastes,
of that madman's twisted ambition.

The Next Twelve are Haikus about the classical elements. They are in groups of three for each element, in order the elements will be shown as: Air, Fire, Water, Justice.

Oh Sky Eternal,                           Endless Wraith of air        Electricity,
You can be grey, blue and red,    Oh Justice of Hurricane    The Thunder of this weak race
ceiling of the earth,                       no man can match you      blood of our cities
Ps: I count Lightning as a part of the air element

Oh ye Blissful Sun,                     Volcano, please sleep,                 Great and Mighty Forge,
Thine heat and light give us life,   Your lava blood and flame bile,   bend the ancient will of earth
Day made only for you               are a blight to life                         Scion of the heath

Oh Noble sea vast,                  High and great Winter,                   Enjoyable beer,
Of salt and water and fishes,    Manifest death is your cold,            Greatness in our saddess day,
Our forebearers home             for your biting maw                         Liquid thought changer.

Oh Life Holding earth,        Desert, we fear you,                       Castle, tall and strong
father of forest and hill,       Your sand and your heat murder,    Even in death you marvel
The soil is your gift             kife in your is death                         Solid Memory.

I hope you enjoyed those haikus, I wrote about nine as the girls in the writing class took to write five poems, I'm just that fast a poet. I could make new poems at a peotry meeting while giving a 'reading', it would be so funny to see everyones face as they realise what I was doing! I was collecting money for The Chernobyl Cause on thursday. You should help them as they help children with radiation poisoning in Kazakhstan, which when in the time USSR had one third of the world's nuclier testes, 500 bombs over 40 years. You own Kazakhstan your money if you laughed in the Borat movie, you evil people! So help those poor mutant children in their orphanages, also help the poor children in Ukrane ( where Chernobyl is.)

 I did my GAA exams, which don't really matter to me, as I'm not a sportperson. Also a Martin Woodhose fact: I you say a Chuck Norris fact to someone who already knows it, Martin Woodhose knows where you live.
  The Elemental Maniac,
                             Myself

No Writing Course

I had no writing this week as the two girls weren't in, which is kind of annoying, but for all you guys I'm going to put up two old stories I had written in the past:

The Armarda,
  "Yar, you sill'a planet lovers, your planet is now under attack by my armarda of space pirates." Roared a voice from the telescreen, Garet just shot the device with a lazer gun and it fell to the floor and smashed into sevral thousand shards of metal. Most of the customers in his bar ignored this sudden moment of chaos in their sea of drunken swearing. Only a young man in a soldier's uniform showed any signs of shock and fear. Garet walked over to the young man while drying a glass flaggin.
"Aren't you afraid of the pirates?" Asked the young man but Garet just shook his head.
"No worry kid, all ships that enter this sector fall out of the sky from our planet's gravitational field and crash" Relpided Garet never looking at the man but at the flaggin. "All that is going to happen is sevral space ships will be wrecked and ten thousand pirates are going to need new jobs. So where are you from kid, your accent says Galnor or Kalpalic?"
" Galnor, a town called Cydnis, I just hope the rescue party comes soon." Continued the Galnorian. Garet merely tutted ans walked away - they were all the same, thinking they'll be saved but just stranded in this, his, bar.

 The City of Diabolo was called the twisted city not because of it's strange and unusual and freikish architechture but because of the complete lack of morals amonst it's ruling class. They would wear costumes and kill people in strange and unique ways as a sport. Shaun remembered Dammed-Chocolate-Man, Funny Dog and Lost Hunter, his old school chums, each with a nickname to hide their identies, like anyone actual could stop them, if anybody even cared. But shaun was only called Calous Shaun because he killed his fellow nobles, for the sport of it.  Seven lives too his name, and seven truly great names. His three old training partners had been killed by public beheading, which had made him famous across the city. The four ironic deaths that followed where mor fun: Forgotten Abaddon (stewed in a soup of corpses for his death by canibilism), Numb Achilles (thrown into an electric power plant for electrcuting his 'patients'), Mellow Eros ( Liver failure from alchol overdose which matched his drugging of young adults) and lastly Cursed Souless ( who was thrown of a skyscrapper simple because Shaun couldn't think of an Ironic way of killing a man who changed his exicution methods). And now he was going to kill Meloncoly Valkerie, but how do you kill someone who uses chrisma to convince people to kill themselves?

 So if you have anyways to kill such a person please send me a comment! I've had the whole week off school as I;ve been training for Meitheal team next year, so wish me luck with that. I also say hello to anyone who is reading this from Meitheal. For those of you not there, I'm sorry it was fun! We played alsorts of Icebreakers and stuff. But I'll tell you this: Pins and straws are not fun things to make statues out of. Also I will now give the worlds first Martin Woodhose fact; if you put a box on a table and Martin Woodhose is in the room his head will appear under the box if you pick it up!
                                         The Meitheal Ninja,
                                                                   Myself

The Return to Monotonism.

Hi'ya y'all and stuff. I have returned to the absolute boredom that is my school life. But today I have written some more peices of Pros in my writing class:
   The first was a story that I had to write in one page of my note book, the second had to use five out of ten words, and the third  was one line was written by each member and then handed over to the next person and continued on such a style.

 Maze:
   The blade slashed through his flesh, cleanly along the muscles grain. Hyko twichted with the pain and then slammed a fist into the monster's belly. The creature stagered back, and Hyko leapedinto the air spinning so his foot smashed into the thing's twisted face. He heard it's bones shatter and it scream as it's brain was ripped into ribbons as the bone fragments danced through like lepers through tar. Hyko cursed as the screams echoed across the labarythn. He was in a dead end and those, those things where after him. He twitched again at the pain of his cut and ran. He didn't know where to run to, or if there was an exist but that didn't stop him. If only he could find a medic or a first aid kit and he would survive.

Words: Jester Pint, Armchair, Tree, Irish, Juju, Crone, Blank, Comprehensible, Solstice. Words used in Italics.

    Old Mrs.Fian sat back into the Armchair as Marcus patroled through the shop, it was dark and only lite by th twilight steaming through the window. Her chair was behin the V-shaped counter, with various charms, gizmos, brochures and random objects of power the hung from ropes that dangled form ancient Irish oak beams of the ceiling. The counter had a slope of glass that protected various grimories and more valuble objects, the walls where  lined with shelves of the least valuble objects.
" Looking for something Marcus" Asked the crone as she chucked down a pint's worth of  water down the sink after cleaning a new charm all the way from Ireland,
"Yes" He replied not stopping to look at her. "I'm looking for something special."
"well" She asked, her tone rising from blank too fury.
"Yes" He remarked finally looking at her, "This"
He put down a photo onto the desk. She snatched it up and grinned at the photo.
"Now, I have that piece." She replied to his action.
" How Much" Bluntly inquired Marcus,
" Depends what this all means to you!" Was her reply to his last question, her grin twisting like a maggot in soft flesh.

    Switch: My lines are underlined, Ellen's are bold and Virginia's are in Italics.
        Nova looked around the room , nothing behind, nothing in his son's room or under the bed, so he switched of the lights. And hid inside his cupboard. Waiting for the dawn to bring him home. He knew that his race where ugly and twisted with scales of orange and eyes of red and talons of death, but the humans beyond the bed where the real monsters. They chartled and gurgled in mouthfuls of tea, sweat tea and milk and honey and blood, and the sun rose in the horizon.

     Oh and a piece of advice, vampires smell of obvious of death and also, surprisingly, vanilla! Long story, but useful advice. Also, I'm  proud to annouce the Osama Bin Laden is dead, and before you say anything, that is a bad thing. His death only makes a martyr, and martyr create more trouble then they solve. Anyway no-one had heard him plan a terrorist plot for at least four years, which is bad. He should have been captured, trialed and then when found guilty and be brought to every talk show and public event in chains, purely to mock Al Qaeda. But the question is this, will Bin Laden's death become an America Holiday, it would probally be the only holiday of annual celebration about a horrific war crime. But lets hope no such maccabre events happen.

       Also was the 25th anniversary of Chernobyl on Tuesday, which was a bummer, espacally for someone who suffered it's effects and I am truly sorrow for you and wish you the best of luck.
                                      Swearsy McSwearsalot,
                                                                      Myself

The Less then one week return!

Hey'O! I'm back for the second time in one week! And what a week it has been! Prince William is now married, not that any really cares! So some guy called William married his true love called Kate. In any ordinary the marraige would just be a minor footnote in some marraige listing in the local newspaper, but OH No you get the royal family and suddenly the brittish empire, I mean common wealth must have a day off and the whole world focused on one wedding. Before I spend your entire free time reading my moanings I going to put up the poems I did in todays for writing. The first was an activity for a self glorfing poem, the second a moment of slow motion and the third a moment in rush

Glory:
I, Myself, Prince of Predicons
Lord of the shadowborn, Bane of Sanity,
I the poet of all my dream's broken mirror,
voice of wisdom, advocate of the forgotten genius,
Hail the Sun of Deaths Secret,
a devoirer of knowledge,
Duke of Maddness and Sanity,
May God show him even greater lines,
as I sit alone,
on a throne of Frozen Tears,
In the Garden of Blackroses and unfurfilled dreams.

The Fall:
Fist,
gliding through the air,
like a dandilion seed,

The fist, it giters
with gold and silver,
almost at it's victim,

suddenly it is flung
up, a shockwave
of pain

the man falls,
his rings
break, Jewels shatter

but the knee
has broken
more important
thing, things most necessary,
his hip bone.

The Knights:
The rushed and boomed and crashed,
the dust is a marker of out fury,
my, no, our, no, mine alone, my anger,  my wraith,
I must find his heart, soon or I'll miss,
his lance is also raised and aimed,
we gallop and brush aside the fools,
the fools who run and scurry and wnder,
and just in the as we collide,
steel and steel smash and then splinter,
the blood spurts everywhere,
I turn and stop,
his heart is on my lance,
but my horse is scarred and dead,
a lance lays buried in his head,
I jump onto the dust before her crashes down,
and I charge to my enemy with my sword in hand
And as I dash to him,
he takes his blade, and then his life.


I will start ranting again, and it's about purly personal affairs now, my dad made me help him drag a recently bought dingy. It was problems after problem, had to get new tape to hold it in place, then find the number plate and screw it in, then figure out how to link the electronics, which didn't work and then the links between the car and trailer was fiddly and then the dingy rattled when we where driving so we ended up having to put even  more tape on the boat, aaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

         The Furious Swearsy McSwearsalot,
                                                               Myself

Sorry I'm Late

Happy Easter, Everybody and I'm sorry late with this email, but my dad has been making me do DIY and House cleaning over the easter holidays, 'YES!' ( in a tone so sarcastic it burns a hole in reality that I fall into and take three hours to crawl slowly and so horribly painfully out.) So yeah I'm sorry about that, here is the writings:
1) This was a poem where we had to use sevral certain words:

T’wis the most jolly day of spring

And a fair young kit asked his mother

“ Why do we celebrate Easter Mum?

So she groaned and hummed,

She didn’t wish to break her scion’s innocence

So his father said

“ My’sonny boy, we celebrate the resurrection

Of the messiah after his crucifixion”

So the little boy was quiet,

But he did wonder,

Where did the Easter Human fit in?

Why did he deliver a chocolate egg,

To every rabbit kit?

And why would a human do that?:

It's a joke on the whole Easter bunny thing, with the rabbits saying their point of view.

2) This is just madness, we had to use only one letter for word to start with, except for cojoining words:

Joking Jim Jumped Jolly and Jittering Joan Jived and Jiived for Jelly Jam Jeepes and Jimmy Jam Jelly Jelo! Jim the Jousted Joan for the Jelly Ham Jeeps and Jammy Jam Jelly Jello of Jovel Jonny. Jonny jumped to Jamy-Jam-Jam Jelloland of Jeepton Jumpers after Jim Jousted Joan.

Pure Insanity, perfect for a children's book.

3) This is the most serious and understandable of the works:

Mr. Geist tapped the table top, the ring of metal pen to metal desk. Mr. Dragon stared at him in short temper, but Geist ignored him. Mr. Nox was ranting on how project Onomatopoeia was going, how phase nyaa was over and phase woof was commencing. Mr. Ozymandias was nearly asleep, while Mr. Nova was actual asleep, but at least Mr. Van Hellsing was smiling contently;

“And so Omega Corp is confident this will succeed in this project. Any questions?” Finished Nox “Gentlemen.”

“I have one.” Remarked Mr. Geist,

“ Oh shut up you prat!” Growled Mr. Dragon; “ Your blood won’t boil with this project or, or, or sears busting, boils forming, teeth falling out or eye balls exploding.”

“ I’m not worried about the effects of Project Crimson.” Remarked Geist; “ I just want to ask this: can we be traced back too when the program fulfils it’s duty.” Mr. Nox grinned at the question,

“ That’s the beauty of my plan! It will never be traced back to us. After all it is a police update, and not private or virus, so we are saved from any trouble!” was the reply Mr. Nox gave to his associates, Mr. Geist merely made a small hand sign of thanks and grinned. The plan was simple, every human had a chip in their head, a chip linked to the internet, a chip now linked to human internal systems, faking drug highs was easy, but that wasn’t their lord’s master plan.

  Thank you for reading those little stories, but is it me or is the poetry chossen for the english school course is just so stupidly annoying and boring. It's as if the system is a labotemy of the human cultrual sense.

It drives me sick we fury and wrath,

they attempt to scar my mind, my life,

to destroy the artist,

and create the bureaucrat.

            I created that poem on the fly as I was writing it, which is just to show off. Not much going on but took a nice walk today and as always my feet where screaming in pain  after wards, well not much going on here, but if anyone has anything they want talked about please leave a comment, so now I'll sign off,

                               The Orange Hater,

                                                     Myself

First Bloging

B'y'ellow, B'y'ellow, I'm the writter of this new and hopefully enjoyable blog. I'll probally update every Saturday, this is as I have a writing course every Saturday and I'll be posting my writings up here, so enjoy the randomness!!! ( I have very bad spelling)

   This week in this glorious system of chaotic writing we invented some new english words!
Fluramo ( A fall from grace purely for the sake of falling from grace), Nideal ( A lack of smell; what silence is to sound, Nideal is to smell), and Skedish ( The act of making up random words ) where ones that I made for this Activity. One of the girls didn't have any words I can see a serious use for in my ( hopeful ) future career of Author, but the other made some good words:
Inkdil: A dark lily like plant
Glustell: The ringing of a bell caused by the wind force, considered bad luck
Scrosting: Pieces of rust that fall onto a surface to form a sort of coating
Sprackle: A tiny fluffball creature that scatters about when the curtains are shook.

We had to write some poems using five words and any number of our own words ( I'll underline the needed words and itallics for the new words)
  
     The Oracle's vision
The Castles and manors are in ruinius death
the land is dead
not a potato, or a barley loaf, or a craker left,
this land, called Ireland once,
is deader then gold, or coal, or fluffy clouds.
For in it's silent nideal of darkness
the memories of the queen scream,
of her visit, of the economies death,
and how this country died in glorius Fluramo,
in a twisted and cold quest of Skedish.

     Pig Breakfast.
A dance of the fateless, fast and eerie
they run,
run to hide from that slight blade
their foul stench killing my nideal,
I will find them, and have me some Crubeen


This piece was from last week but I think it deserves some recognition. Just to note the Id, Ego and Super Ego are terms for mental systems used in psychology. I think they represent the wild animal, the sense of self and the moral code:

Clarke was kicking himself, any-normal tiem he would run, he was the best member of the local running team, the best member.But he was to afraid to do so, before him were three dead men; clawed, bitten, burnt, whipped, crushed and about destroyed in every possible way you could imagine a gang of dragon-slayers could die when fighting a dragon in an alleyway. Sari was standing tall over them, scrapping blood from under her nails with a file. Clark was either dating a  girl who could turn into a dragon, or a dragon who could turn into a girl, he didn't care. His Id was screaming like a little girl, his Super-Ego was simply fainting and his Ego was complaining as her cloathes weren't ripped off in the shape shifiting.


I'll also be posting my oppinions on various things in each blog, for example I like this webcomic, just keep an eye that the front page leads to the latest update. Plus I'll be adding what I did of interest on that week,
for example I completed the ECDL course on Monday, at last I'm finished that damn boring course! On tuesday my class had a concert of our own music, and if you happen to hear those songs, we are sorry but we are terrible lyric writters. Actually, that's most main stream songs these days. And from Wednesday to Friday I was doing work experience at my local bookshop while the rest of my year is in Barcelona for the school trip. I didn't go for five reasons:1) I hate hot weather. 2) I don't like the idea of having more pick pockets on the average street then degrees ( celisus or fahrenhiet) on an average day. 3) I voted for Paris on the form. 4) The school has gone to Barcelona for the last 2 years at least, and I don't want to form that kind of tradition. 5) I have no interest in the city's sights.

                  The Creater of Titles
                                              ME!