Nintendo Wii Forum - Blogs

Hey, one more chapter late at night!

SuperHero — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 04:40:47 GMT

EDIT:Guess what my friends? If the title is any indication, all you smart people must have figured out that Wii-mote hogged the computer again. I was on this morning, just enough time to edit my blog, then I was off. Later, as Phil knows, I was on very briefly before Wii-mote (who'd already had some time today) kicked me off. Then we went to Wensday night church. When we got back, dad got on. For about an hour or more. You know, our computer is slow, but every time he does something, he uses the slowest thing we have to do it. Instead of just opening e-mail, he likes to open Internet Explorer and get it from the link there. Internet Explorer is the slowest browser we have. I don't know why he does it, but he does. So when I finally get on, My mom says time for bed. I begged her to let me type, and she said I had one half hour. So thank my mom for this chapter.

The two made their way toward the racetrack, Toad decided to ask Machop a question that he�d been mulling over. �Machop,� he said. �Where do you get all of your connections?�
�Excuse me?�
�I mean, how do you make connections? What did you do that earned you all of these people that help you?�
Machop reached up and stroked one of his crests. �Well, I didn�t really earn them, like as if I bought them. After I ran away, I did a lot of things. Some of them I�m proud of, others I�m not. But through all of it, I made a good deal of friends. It�s just in my character to do those kinds of things and make friends doing it I suppose. So to answer your question, I didn�t earn them. They gave me their friendship.�
They walked in silence for another minute or so. Then Toad said, �You�re my friend Machop.�

Twenty minutes later, they stood outside a garage. The sign above the door read �SuperQ�s racecar drivers garage and hangout.� in a faded red. �Is this the place?� Toad asked.
�Yes. Come on, let us go inside.�
Machop pushed open the door and entered with Toad right behind him. The place was busier then one would be led to believe from the drab and rundown outside. There were people in racecar driver suits everywhere, getting drinks, playing arcade race videogames, having a pizza, or just taking with the man at the bar and with each other. A smoky haze filled the room, even though an old beat up sign on the right said no smoking. Machop and Toad eased into a booth off to the side, and waited for the waiter to come over. �Will you know this �SuperQ� when you see him?� Toad asked.
�Of course, me and him go way back!� Machop motioned with his arms to punctuate his remark.
Toad raised an eyebrow. �How far back?�
�Well, I used to work in his pit crew. He is a race car driver.�
Just then the waiter came up to the table. �Hello guys, what can I get you today?� He asked pleasantly. Machop smiled and stood up. �SuperQ, it has been too long.�
SuperQ stared at Machop for a brief moment, then a look of realization passed over his face. �Machop? Machop the Mach?�
Machop grinned widely and held out his arms. �Unless you have any other pokemon that worked in your pit crew.�
�Oh how are you?� SuperQ asked as they embraced.
�I am just fine! How are you? Did you win this lemon of a bar in a game of cards, or did your mother die and leave it to you out of spite for that horrible mustache you grew when I worked for you?�
SuperQ laughed and shook his head. �No, I bought this place a few years after I last saw you. Believe it or not, I�ve actually made a good bit of money off this place.�
�Probably because you don�t care to pay for upkeep.�
They had a good laugh about that before SuperQ looked at Toad and asked, �And who might you be my good man?�
Machop inclined his head at Toad. �This my partner Toad.�
�Partner? Don�t tell me you�re involved in the Norwegian Mafia again?� SuperQ asked. Machop shook his head no. �We work for Wario.�
Toad wanted more then anything to ask about the Mafia, but they had a job to do, and Wario would want it done as soon as possible.
Also, I forgot to mention, I AM STILL TAKING GUEST STARS!!!

The Circle of Thorn (CH3)

^_^ — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 03:11:08 GMT

Analyze, prepare, execute.
That thought popped up in my mind just before I saw Frank Alter reach into his suit for something as he continued to stare with venom dripping from his eyes. I assumed his position and thought from his point of view. Maybe I had a bounty on my head. It didn�t matter if it was from, say, the brother of a thug I killed. And it didn�t matter if Alter was just some pawn moved by a higher power. The point was his motivation, which was apparently strong enough to attempt to kill me on a subway ride with at least ten witnesses at point blank range.
So I analyzed. The distance between me and him was�twenty feet, maybe? I would assume he�d pull out a firearm, something small. Was it a common weapon such as a Glock, or something more exotic? Alternatively, it may have been a knife, although this was much less likely based on the setting. My eyes quickly darted around. The car was about ten feet wide�not a lot of room for any sort of fancy maneuvering, let alone cover against open fire�and carried ten to fifteen people. Exits were on the sides and were closed shut, although emergency locks would give way if needed. I estimated that we were traveling around thirty miles per hour at the moment.
Preparation was next. Not a lot of cover, not a lot of room, not a lot of time. I basically had three options: attempt escape, charge at the target, or teleport to him. All had their pros and cons, and none of them were particularly secure for success. I decided that my identity was more important than just choosing the easiest way to eliminate the threat, and went for my plan.
Execution. I took one last look around before bounding toward Frank Alter. As I began to close in, Frank pulled out a pistol and fired straight at me. Too bad I predicted the move and countered accordingly. I hopped in the air and ported next to his arm. A minor burst of adrenaline put my senses on alert. I heard the bullet hiss through the electric-like haze that was always left behind whenever I teleported anywhere, then heard the glass at the back end of the car shatter, and finally heard a hint of the bullet dropping dead against the outer shell of the vehicle. Then I heard the cries of surprise and the screams in shock from both my teleportation and the bullet whizzing in front of the average commuters. I sensed some sort of primal fear flaring up inside Frank. Apparently he wasn�t counting on my unique ability being in his plan. I slapped the gun out of his hand, grabbed his wrist, and teleported again, this time outside in the tunnel. Pistol fire sounded off once again just before we disappeared and reappeared in the tunnel. I briefly wondered if anyone got hurt from the accidental discharge.
Unfortunately, I underestimated the speed at which we were going, not to mention the space between the train and the walls of the tunnel. I went against my reaction for the precious free space behind us and pushed Frank and myself into the tunnel. Just as I thought, another part of the train blasted past us. I pushed Alter against the wall as we dropped like a conjoined set of stones to the floor of the tunnel. The train was still rolling thunder behind us. I slammed his back to the floor, held his arms, and waited until the train was completely past us. Once the last cart passed on its way, I picked Alter up and pinned him against the wall. I pulled out my new knife and lightly traced a circle around the area of his heart. Just then, Frank decided to try to pull a fast one on me and wrapped me in a bear hug. I sighed and teleported out of his grasp, reappeared in front of him, swiveled my hips, and charged my elbow into his solar plexus. The man doubled over and fell on his knees, moaning and holding his chest, gulping for air. Holding him down with my foot, I patted him down in his vulnerable state to discover nothing but a wallet and a cell phone, which was turned off. Smart guy. I pulled out the two twenties in his wallet and put them in my pocket, then shoved his wallet and cell phone in my pockets.
I knelt down next to him and stared into his eyes before asking, �Why are you trying to kill me?�
He coughed a few times, but gave no answer. I asked the same question again and got the same response, this time with a head shake though.
I toyed with the knife in my hand for a moment before slowly inching it toward his throat. �We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Alter. Tell me what you want with me.�
I saw his eyes glaze over. I imagined him imagining heaven or whatever other paradise he believed in. It was a shield against pain, the acceptance�hell, the welcoming�of death. Knowing the fact that the pain will be over soon enough is enough motivation for any breaking man. You�ll know that your body will be broken and that you�ll breathe out the last of your life, but soon you�ll feel no pain. You�ll move on to another realm, be it one of numbness or one of pleasure. Whichever the ultimate reality, it makes for a psychological wall that can be difficult to knock down. The only sledge hammer is to leave the victim with something worse than death.
�Frank, as long as you�re in this subway tunnel,� I said, �you�re going to live. You will not die as long as you and I are together.�
I traced the blade of the knife lightly around his face, letting my calm words settle in with him. I eventually stopped the blade just below his nostrils. �But if you don�t give me what I want,� I continued, �I will give you something that will make you wish you were dead. I will break your nose. After that, I�ll cut your eyes out one at a time. If you still don�t cooperate with me,� I traced the blade to his forehead and said, �I�ll slice the tongue right out of your mouth. Think of it this way: lose your most important senses for the sake of secrecy or live for another day in exchange for the truth. Now tell me, what was your motivation to try to kill me?�
He still didn�t say anything, but I knew I had sent him back to reality. I had pulled him away from his false utopia.
I shrugged and danced the knife just inches away from his eyes. I saw a bar of sweat travel down from his forehead.
�They sent me!� he finally gasped.
Bingo.
�Who sent you to find me?�
His breathing worsened. His eyes were swirling everywhere. The guy was starting to panic.
I�m running out of patience. �Tell me who sent you. If you don�t tell me, you�re not going to like what I�m going to do.� I snarled. I was about to slash at his face when he finally cried out.
�The Novus Ordo! Oh forgive me, my king!� Alter�s fearful scream echoed through the tunnel.
�The Novus Ordo? What is��
�They�re coming; it�s too late for me! I have no home! I have no hope!� Without warning, Alter snatched the knife out of my hand with surprising agility, roared something unintelligible, and thrust the knife into his chest. I stepped back and looked away. It was one of the few times at that point in my life where I had no idea what to do next. It was just so unexpected; you could never really prepare for something like that.
So I dragged the body to a shadowy corner nearby, sat down, and called Danielle. I didn�t know what else to do. I needed to tell her what had happened. The phone rang once, twice, three times before finally receiving an answer.
�Mr. Thorn?�
�He�s dead. Frank Alter killed himself.�
She was silent for a moment. �I see. Where are you now?�
�I�m underground, in a subway tunnel. Around the Eastern District still if I had to take a guess. I�m sitting with Alter�s body. What do you want me to do?�
�Drop the body off here at Alkaline. We�ll take care of it from there.� Danielle hung up after that. I let out a heavy sigh, pulled Frank Alter�s corpse to my lap, and began the rhythmetic breathing that prepared me for my long distance teleportation to Alkaline Enterprises. A strange thought flashed in my mind: I wonder if he went to his paradise.
The draining feeling consumed me, but I didn�t mind. I needed to get sick, let some of this tension out. Suddenly, I disappeared. But I didn�t reappear for a while.

Animal Crossing!

SuperQ — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 03:00:08 GMT

Today, I got Animal Crossing in the mail. Fast. I might as well post my Friend Code, and get it out of the way; let me know if you add me! ;)

Town: Hyrule
Name: Quinten
FC:1247-2451-4061

Ok, go ahead. Laugh at my name. It's different. Kidding. But, it is strange. :/

Ok, I want to start a diary on the front page of this game. If it doesn't work out, then poo. If it does, expect a sneak preview each day. I think this will replace Drake for now; I'm really swamped at school. :/

Nothing happened today. The end.

But, tomorrow's group picture day, for Yearbook, so I will have to help set that up at 7:15. Yay.

Ok, here's a sneak-peek! ;)

I finally set foot in my humble village; Hyrule! I go to town hall, and see there are four spots possible for my home. I chose a house with a blue roof, closest to the store area. I step out, and Tom Nook gazes into my eyes. He says I have to pay for my house by working for him. Can you believe it? Can�t I pay him on my own time? I�m sure I could save a bunch of time. Anyway, here is a screenshot of him when I finished some of his tasks; I took it solely for the unintentional innuendo:

The Circle of Thorn (CH2)

^_^ — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 11:04:26 GMT

Just as soon as I disappeared from Angelica�s restroom, my body reformed in a grimy parking garage about four blocks away. I discovered the ability to teleport to unseen locations six months ago. At first I couldn�t go very far; reaching the other side of a wall was incredibly difficult. But as I experimented with the way I performed the act and as I practiced with increasing distance over time, I could now cover close to a mile�s distance.
But it wasn�t without side effects. As soon as I knew my body was transported, my knees gave way and hit the concrete floor. I sent my head forward and threw up, throwing the vomit about a foot in front of me, steaming from its own heat mixing with the chilly air. Blood started to drip from the back of my throat, mixing with the toxic waste from my mouth for a very unpleasant taste. Violent shakes and shivers rattled through my body at various points. After five more minutes of waiting for any more symptoms, I slowly rose up from the ground�shaky but steady�and staggered over to the stairwell.
The parking garage, three stories of painted concrete, was one of the few personal safe zones left in the city. Deserted and closed off due to �structural inefficiency�, the garage was surrounded by various unguided cranes and dozers, long ago abandoned by their original owners that were the misguided construction workers. The cameras that once watched over the ancient structure now had their lenses laced in cobwebs and covered with dust. The place was just a barricaded dust bowl now, a haven for dirty vermin and drunken, homeless nobodies.
There was another restroom on the bottom floor of the garage, where I knew Danielle�s package would be waiting for me. I descended from the stairs, entered the restroom and its second of five stalls, and felt with my gloved hand under the bottom and back of the toilet. Just as I suspected, a bulging manilla envelope, mapped with mountains of wrinkles and rivers of creases, sat ready for my taking. I smiled. I never knew how the package was put in the same spot so quickly each time, and I never found out who made the delivery. It was almost humorous to think about.
I took a seat on the toilet and delicately opened the envelope, letting its contents empty on my lap. The envelope contained a creased note written in messy handwriting, three black and white photographs, a sharpened La Griffe knife, and a map folded into a small square. The photographs identified Frank Alter in various locations around the city. He was the traditional executive type: dressed and detailed at every fine point, polished in an attempt to hide his aging, neatly groomed, and carrying a confident posture that was all but obvious through the photos. The note was disappointing�it was only written directions to the location on the map. I examined the knife, letting it swim between my fingers. It was a strong yet lightweight weapon, conveniently tiny to keep hidden until the right moment but large enough to have some extra length at close range and more control when needed. The craftsmanship was a bit unusual, but all in all it was a reliable temporary weapon.
I secured the knife in my pocket and stored the contents of the envelope in my coat before leaving for Alter�s office. It wasn�t too far, maybe twenty minutes if I took the subway. I made my way to the metro, making sure to stay away from the direct contact of the open city. Unfortunately, the terminal to the subway was teeming with crowds of businessman and commuters on the hustle to wherever they were going. Fortunately, this also meant security was occupied. I reached into my pocket, swam with the school of people, pulled out a business card to show as my �ticket�, hopped over the gate, and dashed onto the designated unit. Shoot and score.
As the cart began to rumble and travel to the set location, I gazed around at the surprisingly few faces along with me for the ride. My vision stopped short at a familiar face at the other end of the car. Suited and detailed to point, the man stared with fiery black coals into my eyes. I blinked for a moment, and then braced myself for the inevitable. I faced the reality in my mind; I fell into a trap, set by none other than Frank Alter.

A chapter late at night.

SuperHero — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 04:58:10 GMT

EDIT:Okat guess you hogged the computer again last night? No it wasn't Snow White. No, it wasn't The Green Goblin.
IT WAS THOUSANDFOOTWII-MOTE!
He did it again! Through tricky and illegal means, you stole the computer whilst I ate, and wouldn't let me back on. Then my dad got on and hogged it till 9:45. Then we did our Advent book, during which I couldn't use the computer. So by the time I could post my blog, my mom sent us to bed. But I came upstairs later after she'd gone to bed and posted my chapter. I'm darn tired of not posting my chapter. It's short, but I like it, if only because I had a good time writing this part. Okay expect another chapter later today.

The next day the two ventured out once more into the festivities. The size of the crowd didn�t seem to be affected by last night�s happenings, if anything there seemed to be more people then ever. �Lets get some breakfast.� Machop suggested. Toad nodded his agreement and they two went over to the Piece-of-Toast-on-a-Stick booth. Machop got buttered toast and Toad got jelly. As they munched on the morsels, Toad asked Machop what the plan was.
�Well,� Machop said in between buttery bites. �We have to find the racer that we were sent to protect.�
�But we don�t even know his name.�
�No, but we know some stuff about him. The first of which is he�s the top one in the betting right now. If we could find some gamblers, maybe they could tell us his name.�
The two pondered that idea silently while they ate.
Finally as Toad licked the last crumbs from his stick he said, �Maybe we should try and find the managing business that the Koopa owned.�
�That�s a good idea too. But I�ve got a few contacts of my own I�d like to check out first before we do anything else.�
�Who?�
�A friend of mine named SuperQ.�

Nosepaper (Cause It Blows!)

SuperQ — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 03:12:58 GMT

Ok, I really need to get my blog popular. I need to improve the quality of my blog. :/

Oh well, here's my day. If you have any ideas, please comment it. ;)

First of all, for the first time ever, the whole School Newspaper class actually... Worked! Shocking, yes, but true! We're putting our newspaper online, which is pretty sweet. My only issue is quality; I mean, we'll be updating daily, and it seems as though the class was chosen at random; not much of the class has that much writing ability, or poor grammar skills. Mostly both.

I REALLY want to learn how to play an Orcarina; I think it'd be pretty sweet if I could play the Zelda theme. Heck, if I was good enough, I'd put it on YouTube!

Speaking of instruments, I really want to buy Guitar Hero: World Tour. It seems like a fun game, and I REALLY want to try out the drums on it.

Oh, and I had STUCO this morning. It was a little boring, but hey, it's something different. Plus, I'm hoping I'll be chosen to go to STUCO's State convention. You get to stay in a swanky hotel, and everything!

Science Club was cool as well; we got our permission slips for it, and we'll fire it back upo in January. I'm hoping to be the Publisher; he writes, and designs a website! How cool is that? Oh, and the snacks brought were gone by the time the meeting went by; 2 popcorn tins, and 2 bags of Animal Crackers. The BIG bags.

NJHS, was dumb luck; me and another friend from the Science Club went down to NJHS, and the pizza just arrived! Did I meantion we were having pizza yesterday? We did. It was awesome; and the pieces were huge! Anyway, enough with food; we cut out snowflakes to be hung from the cieling of the school, for a wintery effect. Oh yeah, and I'm selling crudely put-together candy cane reindeer at a lip sync competition for NJHS. It'll be great!

Ok, I think I've written enough. I've gotta go. Here's the final comic; after this, I have no idea what I'll post next time I can't write! D:

i need your help.

Agravain3 — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 00:30:16 GMT

so im pretty sure im suffering from "Seasonal Deppresion" . i dotn eman to sound emo but im really sad and i find myself getting angry easy.

can anyone help, what should i do?

thanks for all help.

//Agravain3

corny's Big Blog Extravaganza!

cornyjohn — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 23:34:07 GMT

Where to start? I have a huge list of things I should probably write here that would be mildly entertaining, so it's going to take a while. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the unscripted goodness.

-----------------------------------------------

First off, we have a new girl at our school. Note that she's not a normal newbie, she's an absolutely grade A, drop-dead-gorgeous newbie.

Yesterday, in our predominantly male calculus class (which can sometimes get rowdy with all that raging testosterone), our teacher warned some of the raunchier guys to make sure not to make a fool of themselves when she came to class the next day. A couple of hot chick jokes later, one of my good friends asked to go to the bathroom, and after arguing for five minutes, finally won the right to go.

The lesson continued as normal.

A few minutes later, he burst into the door, exclaiming, "The guidance counselor introduced me to the new girl! She's hot!"

Everyone asked how good-looking she was, and I couldn't help myself. I had to say it.

"What were you doing in the bathroom with the guidance counselor and the new girl?! I thought you were the preacher's kid!"

-----------------------------------------------

I've gotta say, this dress code is getting annoying.

The polos and khakis aren't so bad as the ridiculous restrictions they put on shirt/pant logos. Supposing I have a tiny logo by Ralph Lauren, I would have to go to the office, wait in line, and purchase their $1 sticker to cover it up.

It just so happens that the sticky part lasts a long time, so I usually save mine.

However, today, mine fell off. The principal caught me, attempted to send me to Saturday school, and forced me to go get a new sticker.

Ridiculous! Their argument for enforcing that policy is: "Well, we don't want people to feel bad about not buying expensive clothes, so you have to cover up your logo to make people feel better."

Psssh. As if you can't tell who buys more expensive clothes already.

Q: Who buys more expensive clothing?

A) Pressed khakis with a white button-up and leather shoes

-or-

B) Dirty, wrinkled Dickies with a thin green polo with holes in it and dirty, worn shoes

If you picked A, you win!

Sheesh. Cut me a break.

-----------------------------------------------

You're about to witness history with my following words.

Really.

Are you ready?

Okay.

I wept.

And not because I was sad. It was because I read OoT's official player's guide. I read it in-depth, recalling reading that guide as I played Zelda in years long past. I've got to say, that guide was probably a fan's heaven... 3rd person directions (that means it didn't say "You should do... blah blah blah", it said "When Link entered the room, he shot a Keese"), a nice story filler every time something happened in-game, artwork, and, my favorite, an autographed foreward by Shigeru Miyamoto.

I've never before cried over a game. I've never cried while playing a game.

But I have cried while reading a player's guide. :p

Sorry I didn't blog yesterday +Contest :D

SuperHero — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 14:27:52 GMT

I was so sick yesterday. I didn't get more then an hour and a half of sleep for two nights in a row, so I was exahsted and I had a headache. And I was pretty congested in my chest, making breathing a chore. Luckily my friend had lent me Brisinger so I had something to read in between naps. I started to feel better around 7:00 but Wii-mote kept hogging the computer. He was on for like, five hours! :mad: So I never got to blog. And I didn't get to work on all my writing stuff. But I'm here to let you all know, I will post a chapter tonight, no matter how small! Also...

I AM NOW TAKING GUEST STARS!

Isn't that pretty?
Anyway, I need guest stars to be racers. So you just send me your discription (you can be human, Toad, Goomba) and what your Kart looks like. I'm going to use your forum name. If I can get some of these by tonight, you'll be in the next chapter. But I'll probebly be talking guest stars till the end of this mini-adventure, or until I say enough, so keep them coming in if you miss it by tonight. When I say tonight, I mean like, four or four thirty. I can't be sure when I get on today, but hurry up and make those enterys anyway.
Thank you,
SuperHero the Healed.

(Chpt14) Heh Heh... Nuuurd...

SuperQ — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 01:32:34 GMT

Well, today, I went by pretty quickly, so I guess this blog will as well.

Today, I had some Shockers. And boy, let me tell you, they are SOUR!!! But, they were good. Then, another person gave me one later on. It wasn't sour, so I thought to myself, Is this ecstasy? Then I thought it wasn't likely.

Well, I am going to two things after school tomorrow; the Science Club, AND NJHS. I have no clue how I'll manage, but oh well.

Here is Drake. I didn't have much time to do this today, but oh well. I got a chapter out, no matter how short it may be. ;)

Chapter 14
Magical Creatures

A while had passed since Ulna had called Frank over, and ordered him to watch Felix. Apparently, Felix is some sort of magical creature.
If he wasn�t human, what was he? Drake asked in Dragon form once again.
Well, he could be a number of things, he started, He could be like you; able to change at will; we�re in a Magical Creature class called �Morphers�. There is another class; the Furies. They don�t have control over when they transform, and it�s mostly because of anger, or routine. Then, finally, we have the Stuck class. It�s poorly named, but these creatures are stuck in their form forever.
But Felix- Drake started.
He could be the last class; he might not have gone through his transformation yet, Ulna stated.
Drake shuddered. Felix stuck as some creature? That could never happen. But, he was something. Something different. Maybe a dragon!
So why is this a big deal? Drake asked.
Well, Ulna responded, It can be dangerous to our safety. If they reveal themselves, or others, then it can be catastrophic to our species. Plus- Ulna was interrupted by Felix slamming his way into the building.

Magic Kingdom

^_^ — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 22:39:02 GMT

So, for my holiday vacation, I had Thanksgiving with my girlfriend and her folks. After the food (the stuffing was pretty beast), her parents surprised us by taking us to Magic Kingdom in Disney World in Orlando. Normally I wouldn't mind the trip, except that it was a holiday and we arrived at the park the day after "Black Friday".

Oh. Dear. God.

Right when we got out of the van I knew it wasn't going to be the best day ever. The parking lot was jammed packed with a combination of mini vans, pickups, semi trucks, and regular old cars. People were scrambling around to get to the little trolly thing that takes you to the park. People were being pushed, evil eyes were being cast everywhere, and there were little kids everywhere. Did I mention that I automatically have a hatred for anyone under six years old? Yup.

So when Talia--my girlfriend--asked me if I was excited when we got off the monorail and into the park, I naturally put on my best and cheesiest I'm-at-Disney-yay-for-me smile and said with a whistle, "I'm delighted."

All in all, it wasn't a great day. A minor list of complaints if you will...
--) I must've tripped over twenty kids.
--) They removed the 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea ride.
--) The attendant at the Haunted Mansion ride was being an ***hole to me for some reason. He kept dropping some pretty mean remarks.
--) Kids are extremely rude. The little monsters had gone berzerk between being at Disney and the general chaos of everything else happening.
--) I found that I had lollipop, ketchup, grease, drool (?), and a strangely gooey blue substance on my favorite shirt.
--) Between walking and people stepping on my feet, my legs are killing me.
--) People were being rude like it was nobody's business. As we were leaving the park after a fireworks show around 9:00, there must've been 20,000 other people heading for the same gate we were. I couldn't help thinking about this guy I read about in a news article that was trampled in a Walmart on Black Friday...
--) Everyone smelled of BO, grease, and too-sweet candy.
--) I've grown up a fair bit since my last visit. Disney seems to appeal to those 13 and under.
--) Did I mention that I hate kids?

Overall, it wasn't something I'd go through again. A different park perhaps, but never Magic Kingdom...

3D okkusenman

Mikazume — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 20:56:41 GMT

I do believe that this one is self explanatory....

A Cool find on youtube

wiithiefs back from the holidays :D

wiithief — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 03:38:10 GMT

ok im back from northcarolina and yeah i was gone except for thursday and wednsday i was playin wit friends and family and i got to play 360 wit new exp :D. and guess wat i have enough money to buy a 360!!!! now its time to get back wit the photo :/ well im back.

The Circle of Thorn (CH1)

^_^ — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 02:33:44 GMT

**The following blog is a story may contain inappropriate content in the form of violence, sexual/drug reference, and language. This blog is meant for the personal enjoyment of the reader and does not warrant any of the following activities: murder and/or other illegal actions, substance use, teleportation, theft, and/or any other fictional and/or illegal content that the reader may find amusing and passable by society's standards. Upon performing these actions, the reader will feel the wrath of the full penalty of the law and may face jail time (roflcopter goes soi soi soi). Read, critique, and enjoy at your own discretion.
--^_^ (with love)**

**I hold and understand all rights in knowing that I have created and own my work**

THE CIRCLE OF THORN (CHAPTER ONE)
^_^

*

Killing isn�t hard; it would be a lie if I said it was. The best of us�the thugs, the criminals, the wisest of the animals�we do it on a whim. Anger wipes unnecessary judgement away, pain and pressure wrestle away from consideration and the instinct to hide or run, and matter wins over the persuasion of the mind. It�s simple, really: pull a trigger, swing a weapon, flip a switch�if you have a hand and a drive, you�re able to take a life. Hell, a monkey could do it; you don�t even need an intelligent man to play the grim reaper.
Performing the action isn�t difficult. Preparing the whole of the execution, however, is. Knowing your enemy�s strengths and weaknesses is just as important as understanding his hopes, his dreams, his motivations, his habits. Knowing what your target will do before he does is an ability that requires delicate knowledge. Getting near your target, that takes some skill. And leaving no trail whatsoever that links you to the crime, that�s no easy feat either. These are just some of the traits and skills that separate criminals from the everyday street thug to the ultimate political assassin.
In my mind, there is only one thing more difficult than the preparation. The most difficult thing for a killer is the aftermath of the crime, living with the reality that you�ve taken someone�s life, because you�re never the same after your first murder. Don�t like killing? Did it make you sick when you saw the life literally melt away from someone�s eyes? You can�t go back; the dead can�t live again. You can�t reverse time. Even if you have the will to dig down and remove the bullet, that doesn�t mean that the life will flow back to the body. The best you can do is to try to dehumanize your target as much as you can and carry that weight on your conscious.
Alternatively, you can just be one of the lucky few born as a true monster and gain pleasure rather than regret. Monsters make the best killers, you know.

The setting, a hidden caf� in the heart of New York City called Angelica�s, was classically appealing to the average rundown city slicker in need of a refreshing cup of local coffee. I was a bit of a java connoisseur at the time, so finding new and unique coffee shops hidden throughout the city was a bit of a pastime for me when I was off the job. I dug Angelica�s lately because it had a very different atmosphere to it. The flooring was a pale green layout of mosaic stones with various patterns circling them, and the ceiling was adorned with lights strung from a flexible, twisted metal. A quiet electronic-slash-jazz playlist continuously sounded through the tiny speakers in the corners of the room. I decided to try an Arabica blend, an elegant mix of warm, high-grown beans, cocoa, and rich spices not unlike fresh cinnamon. As I picked up my coffee and took a seat at the metallic bar, my phone stirred in my coat pocket with an intrusive vibration. I picked up the ringing phone, knowing who it was before my hand even reached the phone.
�I�m here.� I said.
�Hello, Mr. Thorn. How are you?� the soft, feminine voice replied. To me, she was only known as Danielle, a representative and agent for Alkaline Enterprises. She had been a colleague and an indirect partner of mine for about four years now. I had never met the woman, sure, but she was an important asset of mine when it came to my business. Danielle set up contacts and meetings for those interested in my unique services, then alerted and invited me when opportunities presented themselves. From there she presented herself as a beacon of intelligence, a source of information that flowed on a need-to-know basis. When the deed was done, we parted ways. But she had remained a reliable contact throughout the years.
I emptied some of the drink in my mouth, savoring the flavor before swallowing it. �I�m actually relaxed for once.� I paused and took another sip. �It�s been a while.�
�There�s a contact named Frank Alter that wants your services. He wouldn�t send me any details aside from location and payment. The location would be an arranged meeting at his office on the outskirts of the Eastern District. The payment would be �B+�. That does not include bonuses that he said would be explained at the meeting. Interested?�
I leaned back in the barstool, drained the last of my coffee, and tossed the empty cup in the trash bin. A �B+� level of pay was above a hundred thousand dollars. Perhaps a quarter of that would be in bonuses? Whether or not the bonus was applicable, a hundred thousand was no chump change, and a �B+� was bound to be a more difficult case. But still, the details were too sketchy to not be suspicious. I thought for another moment.
�Mr. Thorn�?� Danielle pressed.
�I�ll do it. Drop the usual package at our spot in twenty minutes. I�ll be there to pick it up then. Thank you, Danielle� I hung up the phone and slipped it back into my coat, then stepped into the restroom. I sat on the toilet with my feet crossed in front of me and inhaled and exhaled a deep breath of air. The empty, draining sensation that came with this command crawled down my body. Once the feeling completely embraced me, I disappeared.

Grouptastic!

SuperQ — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 02:07:37 GMT

Well, here I am. 36 Blogs, (30 Daily) and 153 posts. It's been about a month since I joined the site. And I haven't missed a single day of blogging. Yay!

Today, I have been working on some last-minute tweaks on my comic for the Front Page of the site; Wiispace Weekly. I started a group for it, so if you want to be in either the comic or the group, PM me!

Anyway, it's been a while since I've written a chapter, but I swear, tomorrow, I will have one up!

Oh, and I beat Galaxy. Now, it's Luigi time!