Random Thoughts

[pemberly]

how can a girl be "sprung?"

[kay &!*]

how can a girl be "sprung?"

oh, kinda like keeping her at the edge of her seat interested.
pftt

i admit it though, more than half of the reason why i like him so much is 'cause i think he looks so GOOD hahaahaha. damn shallow *****

[pemberly]

oh, kinda like keeping her at the edge of her seat interested.
pftt

oh, i was thinking about what a guy would mean if he said a hot girl gets him sprung.

[Suet Seung]

I need to pack my own lunch. Seriously, just fried rice and a bottle of water today? No fruits, side dish or dessert?

[Han Solo]

My job is so ****ing unbelievable. I'll try to sum it up by first telling you about the folks I work with:

First, there is this supermodel wanna-be chick. Yeah, okay, she is pretty hot, but damn is she completely useless. The girl is constantly fixing her hair or putting on makeup. She is extremely self-centered and has never once considered the needs or wants of anyone but herself. She is as dumb as a box of rocks, and I still find it surprising that she has enough brain power to continue to breathe.

The next chick is completely the opposite. She might even be one of the smartest people on the planet. Her career opportunities are endless, and yet she is here with us. She is a zero on a scale of 1 to 10. I'm not sure she even showers, much less shaves her "womanly" parts. I think she might be a lesbian, because every time we drive by the hardware store, she moans like a cat in heat.

But the jewel of the crowd has got to be the ****ing stoner. And this guy is more than just your average pothead. In fact, he is baked before he comes to work, during work, and I'm sure after work. He probably hasn't been sober anytime in the last ten years, and he's only 22. He dresses like a beatnik throwback from the 1960's, and to make things worse, he brings his big ****ing dog to work. Every ****ing day I have to look at this huge Great Dane walk around half-stoned from the second-hand smoke. Hell, sometimes I even think it's trying to talk with its constant bellowing. Also, both of them are constantly hungry, requiring multiple stops to McDonalds and Burger King, every single ****ing day.

Anyway, I drive these ****tards around in my van and we solve mysteries and shit.

[Banh Mi]

My job is so ****ing unbelievable. I'll try to sum it up by first telling you about the folks I work with:

First, there is this supermodel wanna-be chick. Yeah, okay, she is pretty hot, but damn is she completely useless. The girl is constantly fixing her hair or putting on makeup. She is extremely self-centered and has never once considered the needs or wants of anyone but herself. She is as dumb as a box of rocks, and I still find it surprising that she has enough brain power to continue to breathe.

The next chick is completely the opposite. She might even be one of the smartest people on the planet. Her career opportunities are endless, and yet she is here with us. She is a zero on a scale of 1 to 10. I'm not sure she even showers, much less shaves her "womanly" parts. I think she might be a lesbian, because every time we drive by the hardware store, she moans like a cat in heat.

But the jewel of the crowd has got to be the ****ing stoner. And this guy is more than just your average pothead. In fact, he is baked before he comes to work, during work, and I'm sure after work. He probably hasn't been sober anytime in the last ten years, and he's only 22. He dresses like a beatnik throwback from the 1960's, and to make things worse, he brings his big ****ing dog to work. Every ****ing day I have to look at this huge Great Dane walk around half-stoned from the second-hand smoke. Hell, sometimes I even think it's trying to talk with its constant bellowing. Also, both of them are constantly hungry, requiring multiple stops to McDonalds and Burger King, every single ****ing day.

Anyway, I drive these ****tards around in my van and we solve mysteries and shit.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

[remember_Cedric]

My job is so ****ing unbelievable. I'll try to sum it up by first telling you about the folks I work with:

First, there is this supermodel wanna-be chick. Yeah, okay, she is pretty hot, but damn is she completely useless. The girl is constantly fixing her hair or putting on makeup. She is extremely self-centered and has never once considered the needs or wants of anyone but herself. She is as dumb as a box of rocks, and I still find it surprising that she has enough brain power to continue to breathe.

The next chick is completely the opposite. She might even be one of the smartest people on the planet. Her career opportunities are endless, and yet she is here with us. She is a zero on a scale of 1 to 10. I'm not sure she even showers, much less shaves her "womanly" parts. I think she might be a lesbian, because every time we drive by the hardware store, she moans like a cat in heat.

But the jewel of the crowd has got to be the ****ing stoner. And this guy is more than just your average pothead. In fact, he is baked before he comes to work, during work, and I'm sure after work. He probably hasn't been sober anytime in the last ten years, and he's only 22. He dresses like a beatnik throwback from the 1960's, and to make things worse, he brings his big ****ing dog to work. Every ****ing day I have to look at this huge Great Dane walk around half-stoned from the second-hand smoke. Hell, sometimes I even think it's trying to talk with its constant bellowing. Also, both of them are constantly hungry, requiring multiple stops to McDonalds and Burger King, every single ****ing day.

Anyway, I drive these ****tards around in my van and we solve mysteries and shit.

LOL Han, you're working with a talented bunch of misfits. Reminds me of the bunch in Scooby Doo. HEY! The Great Dane must be Scooby! LMAO

[pemberly]

han solo, are you gay? i always thought that guy was gay. c'mon, he wears that weird neck scarf thing. and he never really tried to get in the hot chick's undies.

[kidd]

One pet peeve of mine with novels set in historical period (for example historical romance) written by modern female writers is the overtly 'women are so oppressed, men are so chauvinistic' tone. Yeah, there were many injustices and in gender inequality in the past, but, these writers did it too in your face.

[kidd]

A writer shouldn't write equals to the work of another famous author if they can't do it properly.

I'll never acknowledge 'North By Northanger, or The Shades of Pemberley: A Mr. & Mrs. Darcy Mystery' as a sequel either 'Northanger Abbey' or 'Pride and Prejudice'. Ruin all the characters.

[Han Solo]

han solo, are you gay? i always thought that guy was gay. c'mon, he wears that weird neck scarf thing. and he never really tried to get in the hot chick's undies.

WTF.....

How did that even come from?

[PJ]

It may be a "random" thought".

[kay &!*]

i don't ****in like waiting around.
i'm the girl. you're the guy. i asked u out the first date. isn't that an OBVIOUS sign to you? stop playing hard to get; as if ask for c* msn. pftttttttttt.
grow some BALLSSSS


i know what you're doing.
sorry hun.

[Dirt]

I have to stop spending so much money on a daily basis.

[pemberly]

why is time passing so slowly?!?!

[Ken Cheng]

why is time passing so slowly?!?!

When you're older, you'll wish it did.

[kay &!*]

I NEED AN APT WTFFFF.
anyone know any places in the city/close to city/within zone 1 in melbourne????
errrrrrrr.!

[Han Solo]

I NEED AN APT WTFFFF.
anyone know any places in the city/close to city/within zone 1 in melbourne????
errrrrrrr.!

Just go search online at realestate.com.au

or if u want a room etc, go to the melbourne uni student websites- they then to have ads out for rooms for rentals.

Han S

[Han Solo]

I used to be an art teacher at a relatively well-known art school. I saw my share of broody artist types in my time at that job, and at that time a good deal of them actually had reasons for their unusual demeanors, not like the 20-somethings today who just do it to be cool. They were often very poor and perpetually broke, but the school was sponsored by the government and these kids had won scholarships some way or another. These were kids with abusive fathers, ***** mothers, some of them had drug problems, and the only way they could express their emotions was through art. They didn't whine on and on to anyone who would listen about how their art reflected their inner torment and spout about how pathetic they were to gain sympathy and social points, they were legitimate creative types.

It goes without saying that there were quite a few applicants who didn't make it into the program. They were more like the majority of art students you find today, the ones who become artists to get sex. They were very irritating on a personal level, and it wasn't just to me. No one liked them. No one slept with them, either, at a time when that was a feat to accomplish. There was one young man who has always stuck in my mind; even though I hated the guy, memories of speaking to him are some of the most vivid I have left of that time of my life. He was everything I didn't want to see in a student: wore horrible cologne, wouldn't follow advice, had mediocre technical skills, and couldn't accept constructive criticism. Sure, he could paint, but it simply wasn't at a high enough level, and he seemed limited in his subject matter. His paintings were downright boring, and he wasn't trying to make an "ironic statement" or anything, although if he had told me that he had, I might have thought a little better of him. But he was just downright rude the first time I told him he had been rejected, and he had the most disgusting moustache. Sure, moustaches were in style at the time, but his was very poorly groomed around the edges. It always bothered me.

He didn't give up. Nearly a year later, he applied again, and I had to reject him. The next day he came right into my studio and pleaded for me to help him get into the program. It happened to be my wife's birthday and it was late and I was in a rush to get home. Thinking back, I was probably meaner than I ought to have been, but I simply think this guy was worth courtesy. I told him that he was simply unfit to be a painter, and he threw a tantrum. Can you imagine it, a grown man acting like a small child? He shouted in those rising tones that grated my ears and kicked over an easel and damaged a work in progress of one of my colleagues. I snapped. I let loose on him. I berated his work, his worth as a human, his greasy, black hair and even his poorly-groomed birdwings moustache. He didn't say anything at all while I was shouting. When I had finished, he turned and left the room with a look of utter shame and a destroyed ego. I was still very upset and not feeling any sympathy towards him at all. He was a nothing, a no good failure of an artist trying to put himself among his superiors and live off taxpayer money. But now, all these years later, I look back and think that maybe I could have done something nice, maybe put in a good word for him at one of the less prestigious institutes and kept him from sending all those jews to camps. Sadly, I learned a while back that he eventually commited suicide. I can't say that I don't feel partly responsible for his death, and it weighs down on my conscience like nothing you can imagine.

[Banh Mi]

That one's not as cool, it gave it away too easily.