Well it's been a LONG while since i posted anything, because nothing exciting or interestings been happening or i couldn't be bothered. But now i have decided to share a bunch of recent news:

 - I am really close to sending in my short horror story for "In Bad Dreams" (i know i've been saying this for a while, but don't panic - im sure you're not - because it WILL come)

 - Term 4 started for me yesterday and all was fine until TODAY!

 - I was feeling fine until first period when i had a massive headache that made it impossible for me to concerntrate. I went outside to get fresh air and a drink of water, that didn't help so i went to sickbay. I sat there while "the lady" tried to locate my mum and luckily she was on her way to school to work in the library anyway. SO when she arrived i went back to class, packed my stuff up and went home...of course in the car i got the added sickness in the belly and the need for "number 2" - so i wasn't feeling so great. I got home and i had hardly gotten into bed when i threw up in a bucket. I felt better after that (and after my trip to the toilet) and i slept for about 5 hours - through all of school time. I woke up around 3:00 and i was feeling WAY better. I had some lunch and a huge drink of water and now am relaxing on the computer.

 - i have concluded that the start of term doesn't like me, because at the start of term 3 i had conjunctivitis and didnt go to school the first 2 days.

 - its bad coz i need to start revising at school for a maths exam, which is 2 and 1/2 weeks away (my first ever exam).

I finish now by saying, I MISS MY HOLIDAYS!!!! *grin*

WHY DON"T THESE THINGS WORK....The Tables haven't been working for me lately!!!!


<table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2><tr><td bgcolor="#BFE9FF" align=center><font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'><b>Your Five Factor Personality Profile</b></font></td></tr><tr><td bgcolor="#DEF4FF"><center><img src="http://images.blogthings.com/thefivefactorpersonalitytest/personality.jpg" height="100" width="100"></center><font color="#000000">
Extroversion:

You have medium extroversion.
You're not the life of the party, but you do show up for the party.
Sometimes you are full of energy and open to new social experiences.
But you also need to hibernate and enjoy your "down time."

Conscientiousness:

You have medium conscientiousness.
You're generally good at balancing work and play.
When you need to buckle down, you can usually get tasks done.
But you've been known to goof off when you know you can get away with it.

Agreeableness:

You have medium agreeableness.
You're generally a friendly and trusting person.
But you also have a healthy dose of cynicism.
You get along well with others, as long as they play fair.

Neuroticism:

You have medium neuroticism.
You're generally cool and collected, but sometimes you do panic.
Little worries or problems can consume you, draining your energy.
Your life is pretty smooth, but there's a few emotional bumps you'd like to get rid of.

Openness to experience:

Your openness to new experiences is medium.
You are generally broad minded when it come to new things.
But if something crosses a moral line, there's no way you'll approve of it.
You are suspicious of anything too wacky, though you do still consider creativity a virtue.</font></td></tr></table><div align="center"><a href="http://www.blogthings.com/thefivefactorpersonalitytest/">The Five Factor Personality Test</a></div>

The Derelict

By Young E. Alison

Fifteen men on a dead man's chest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
Drink and the devil had done for the rest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.
The mate was fixed by the bosun's pike
The bosun brained with a marlinspike
And cookey's throat was marked belike
It had been gripped by fingers ten;
And there they lay, all good dead men
Like break o'day in a boozing ken
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.

Fifteen men of the whole ship's list
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
Dead and be damned and the rest gone whist!
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
The skipper lay with his nob in gore
Where the scullion's axe his cheek had shore
And the scullion he was stabbed times four
And there they lay, and the soggy skies
Dripped down in up-staring eyes
In murk sunset and foul sunrise
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.

Fifteen men of 'em stiff and stark
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
Ten of the crew had the murder mark!
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
Twas a cutlass swipe or an ounce of lead
Or a yawing hole in a battered head
And the scuppers' glut with a rotting red
And there they lay, aye, damn my eyes
Looking up at paradise
All souls bound just contrawise
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.

Fifteen men of 'em good and true
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
Ev'ry man jack could ha' sailed with Old Pew,
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
There was chest on chest of Spanish gold
With a ton of plate in the middle hold
And the cabins riot of stuff untold,
And they lay there that took the plum
With sightless glare and their lips struck dumb
While we shared all by the rule of thumb,
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!

More was seen through a sternlight screen...
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
Chartings undoubt where a woman had been
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.
'Twas a flimsy shift on a bunker cot
With a dirk slit sheer through the bosom spot
And the lace stiff dry in a purplish blot
Oh was she wench or some shudderin' maid
That dared the knife and took the blade
By God! she had stuff for a plucky jade
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.

Fifteen men on a dead man's chest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
Drink and the devil had done for the rest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.
We wrapped 'em all in a mains'l tight
With twice ten turns of a hawser's bight
And we heaved 'em over and out of sight,
With a Yo-Heave-Ho! and a fare-you-well
And a sudden plunge in the sullen swell
Ten fathoms deep on the road to hell,
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!


And here is a poem by a person i know....it's quite good.

BARBIE DOLL

By Annonymous


Barbie doll Barbie doll

Wise and kind

Why is it that

You don’t have a mind

Breasts that are big

Waist that is small

No hips, no bum

No reality at all

Your perfect hair

Your beautiful eyes

Every feature

I totally despise

Running around with ken

In your super deluxe house

Never staying faithful

To your kind loving spouse

To think that such a beauty

Could convert to such a beast

Never eat a portion of food

You ignore your plastic feast

Your clothes are colourful

All skimpy and revealing

Sex is the only thing ken wants

Your looks the only thing appealing

Rip off your limbs

Melt your head

The only thing that could be better

Is if that bitch bled!!!

Hope you liked them
Aaron

It's been a few days since my last post and NOTHING and i mean NOTHING has happened (of essential value...or even interesting value) - i can't wait to send in my story for 'In Bad Dreams' just to get a response, but i'm hoping it'll be accepted because it could be a starting point for my "writing career", which i'd love to start early...this is probably negative thinking, but i probably won't be accepted: even though I THINK my writing's pretty mature. I'm 14, writing a story and up against a load of adults - i don't think i'll have much chance, but i'll give it a go (maybe i'm just psyking [wrong spelling] myself up for the worst, so the fall's not so bad *grin*).
Done most of the editing, am getting a few people to look at it and give comments of improvements or just what they think of it. Then i'll go over it one more time before sending it off - i already have the email ready, just got to do the story-edits.
I keep thinking "WOuldn't it be SOOO cool to be published" and then i have to remind myself "I won't necassarily get in, there's a whole lot of people to compete with"
- so just a bit nervous on those grounds...plus i'm wondering whether it was such a good idea to send chucklemonkey my "crappy-hardly editted manuscript" of Mr Krimp. I was just in a "mood" and thought what the hell i'll send it....lol, i have thought about re-writing it, but with the old one as a "guide" to the story.

Hey - i guess i did have quite a bit to say, even if it was all just ramblings

Aaron

MR.KRIMP

By Aaron Brown

1

The coffin sat, shiny-smooth, upon a velvet draped table. The lid was shut tight and a bouquet of flowers adorned the surface.

   James Cindersen stared at the light reflecting off the smooth lacquered wood and thought of his mother – Helen – as he imagined her lying on a bed of satin, trapped forever in that claustrophobic prison.

   All was silence in his ears and mind. He did not hear the eulogy that was spoken about his mother, he was in shock. He could not believe it. He refused to believe it. And yet, there she was; a cold decaying corpse encased in death, a heavy wooden lid trapping her, never to escape.

   He would not cry. Ever since his dad (Greg) had threatened and hit him for showing weakness, James had promised himself to never give Greg a reason to hurt him (even though Greg would hit him for no reason at all). So he learnt to bottle it up tight. James thought it bitterly ironic that his dad was sobbing beside him, but he (James) was barely aware of anything in that room but that shiny wooden prison. Once or twice during the funeral his emotions had nearly escaped and tears welled in his eyes, but he managed to suck them back in. He could not help it. She had been the nice one, the gentle one. It had been the first time he’d come close to crying in over three years. Now it was instinct, he probably couldn’t release his emotions even if he wanted or tried to.

   James finally looked away from the coffin and looked around. The building was practically empty. He sat in the front row next to his dad. Molly Holans, Helen’s best friend, was sitting closer to the back nearly in shadow. James figured she must have crept in half-way through the funeral. Molly had never liked Greg and she would blame him for her death – she did not know how right she was to come to that conclusion. Molly had never really spoken to James properly, but she had never shown any ill-will towards him and when she came over to see Helen she would give James the occasional polite smile. She was not smiling now. James noticed the silver lines of tears gleaming on her cheeks. Silent tears. James felt sort of sorry for her. Helen had been Molly’s only real friend and now she was all alone; just like James.

   James turned back to the coffin and a few hours later (or was it minutes?) the coffin was lifted and taken down the aisle. Greg stood and whipped away his tears. He gripped James shoulder tight and lifted him to his feet. James swayed and would have fallen over if his dad wasn’t holding him in a vice-like grip. Greg pulled James in front of him and pushed forward after the coffin. As they were reaching the end of the aisle Molly stood up and walked towards them. Greg glared at her with bloodshot eyes, but Molly ignored him and knelt a little to whisper in James’s ear.

   ‘If ever you need anything…,’ her voice was cracked and broken, ‘Just come to me and let me know. I will be here for you always…’

   James was on the verge of tears, but he knew what to do. Molly stood up and stared into Greg’s brown eyes.

   ‘Greg,’ she said politely before turning and leaving the building. James stared after her. For the first time in the world James felt all alone. He had always had his mum or his few friends, but now his mum was gone and his friends had started avoiding him since they heard the news. He wished he could go home with Molly instead of his ‘crazed’ father. Greg had poor skills at controlling his temper and James had many bruises to show for it.

   ‘Come on boy,’ Greg said gruffly and pushed James out the door.

Greg stood behind James, hands on both of James’s shoulders. They both watched as the coffin was lowered into the burial pit beside the tombstone engraved with Helen’s name. The coffin landed in the ditch with a thud and James shuddered at the thought of his mother being stuck under many layers of earth and rock. Around him other tombstones protruded out of the grassy earth, everyone with a name. Besides from the tombstones, the dead bodies and Helen’s arrangements, the whole graveyard was eerily deserted. The sky was a dark grey and the sun was hidden behind huge clouds. The whole time James stood in that graveyard he waited for it to rain.

   He waited only for the rain to come.

   Nothing else.

   It always rained in the movies. And that’s what it felt like – one big, horrifying movie.


Hope you liked it...