My Space? No Your Space you Dummy

So I've been getting a couple of emails concerning my space and I have an account and all that, but I want to know whats it good for? Does anyone else have it so I can actually use it with success? If so, could you please, pretty please with a cherry pie on top (mmm pie)? That would be helpful, oh and I think I have Keyleighs right now (sorry I dont know how to spell it :o ) and it seems like its just a new kind of blog... hmmm, any help?

Dame

Do Ya Do Ya Wanna???

I'm back my friends, but I am not wearing black... I dont know what that means but I just thought it'd be cool (I'm really tired, though its only 8 o'clock and I'll probably look at this in the morning and think I was a doof, but then again I'd think, what the hey?)

I'm not going to write much for now, except that it was fun and I got addicted to "Do You Want To" by Franz Ferdinand. Good old Franz. Oh yeah and this song which I dont know by some other bands. I'll write probably tomorrow afternoon, since I probably wont wake until then. ;)

Till Then!

Nighty night

Assassin's Way

My clock rang at 2am, I knew it was time to get ready. I got up from my sofa and put on my slacks and collared shirt. I took my modified 300. Winchester rifle and took it apart into five different pieces to put away in my silver briefcase, when this was done, I put on my socks and shoes. I twisted open the cap to some advil and popped a few pills in, followed by a few gulps of water. I unlocked the door to my apartment and went out down the metal staircase to my corvette.

As I was on my way to Shea News Inc., I got hungry, so I pulled up to 711 and got a batch of doughnuts and a bottle of water. After this was done I went on my way again. After 30 minutes of passing through light traffic, I reached the parking lot of the building. I took my briefcase and walked past the front doors to the back door, and to my feelings of success, I found that it was unlocked, as supposed to be. I walked past elevators A1 through D2 to D3, knowing the camera should be turned off inside. I went inside and waited until the doors closed. When this happened I put on my leather gloves and pushed the button for the 107th floor. As the elevator was on its way up, I opened my briefcase and put the rifle back together. I set the briefcase aside for the moment and shouldered the rifle with a sling. In a few hours, I thought, it will be done; everything shall be completed, just as planned.

The door opened and I took my belongings to my window desk, watching the entrance of Ramada Hotel, the presidents favorite place to stay. I hid my rifle and gloves in a slot out of the wall and hid it, then I took up to my daily life, working out the news of the McDea case given to me late last night by my assistant reporter. After hours, many of my coworkers came in to their own daily lives; it was nearing 6, the time when the president will come out into his convoy. In a few minutes, the sign will be made for the plan to go into action. I waited in silence, planning every future move I will make. After a few minutes an alarm went off bringing news of fire or something worse. All of my coworkers ran immediately to the stairs, working their way down to safety. I waited for a while until I was by myself, I set up a mini tarp over myself near the window, and took out the chunk of wall concealing the weapon.

I put on my gloves and grabbed my briefcase, I pulled out a pair of suction cups and counted 1 foot above the pane of the window. There I set the cups and pulled hard; to my delight the window slid out easily and successfully. I took up my rifle and waited, watching the entrance to the hotel. I saw a black suburban come out of the corner, followed by many others.

I gave one last adjustment to my scope and took off the scope lens. I looked through and saw the doors to the hotel open up, with many men in black coats coming out surrounding a small, balding man; my target. I knew I had only one shot to count, or else everything could be ruined. I peered through the scope again and saw the president pause to autograph a picture for my colleague; just as planned. The bodyguards around him looked anxious to go, and I knew now was the time.

I pulled the trigger to hear a click, I pulled back the action and pulled again, only to hear another click. I checked the clip and realized to my dismay that I had forgotten to buy some ammo. I cussed...

I'm a Guitar Playin' Man, Does Anyone Care?

Alrighty then, long time no post (sorta)... anyways I am bored, wait no, actually yeah, I am...

So anyways I have this last book report to write out and I'm bummed about it, not that it'll take me about a day, but mainly because the book "The Old Man and the Sea" is only an ok book the first time, but when you read it a second time (to learn about the character traits and all that book report stuff) its the most boring book of your life, I was so happy it was only 121 pages, or else I'd probably have to be reading it for a longer time than the time of 121 pages (wow, go figure).

Question... What happened to all the good books, are there still good ones, or did I read them all and the authors arent doing smack??? (Besides JK Rowling, who still takes forever, oh and Lemony Snicket, who takes more than forever). Maybe I just havent visited the library in a while, I did read "The Merchant of Venice" which I really liked (took me a while to get used to it), but thats more of a play... All I hear about are these books about dragons and warlocks and all that, thats old... I've already read that and I'm saving up for the last book of that kind of series. Before I go to Italy, I've got to find a book, and I need help my friends, or if you dont want to help you can just go suck on a lemon, and I hope it tastes really sour!

With Boredom,
Damien el Pious

This is at a rock called BALD Rock, wait no, Ball Rock.. yeah it was fun up there
Here are the people you dont want to mess with... Mind you the sun was in our eyes

Sorry I couldnt bunch up the bowling pics together, there was something wrong with the thing, so I had to go individually using picasa, which I shall advertise because of its speed and ease,
With Regards

Justin was in his groove for this pic
With Regards

Haha, someone's posing for art
With Regards

Uh huh, JP is bringing it on!
With Regards

Yeah, this was at the end of our bowling night, Jonathan went kind of crazy from all that "a little somethin somethin"
With Regards

Here's me probably down in my slump, yet earlier before I had reached a grand total of 150, my best game yet. YESSSSSSS
With Regards

Like Justin said, this is Leo's food up at the cabins, yeah he was sound asleep afterwards.
JP had to have the biggest catch that day, it was a monster ground squirrel, probably the biggest I've seen so far.
Royce murdered out there, and I think it was because of his coon skills, or his ravenous thirst for meat! I think I saw him fighting Leo over a chipmunk once...
Lance was definitely a greusome killer out there, he gutted a chipmunk with a weak 22.! Which was awesome...

So Saturday we wasted the whole day just shooting everything we possibly could, and we all had some fun. I believe the score was

JP: 1 Munk, 1 Squirrel, 1 Birdy. Mind you 1 BIG squirrel
Lance: 2 Munks (He killed those munks!)
Royce: 3 Munks (Coon Skills there)
Jonathan: 2 Munks (He gave the gun freely most the time)
Damien: 2 Munks (Leo ate mine whole, I couldnt get a pic)
Justin: He hogged around with Jonathans gun, dont worry Justin, you'll do better.
Leo: Around 5 Munks and a squirrel

Here is a Famous Person

Its James Dean!!!!!

So What the Bean Happened???

Alright, some of us friends were talking about Star Wars yesterday when I remembered a weird thing that Jonathan and I were talking about once. So you know that Obi Wan Kanobi is dead in the last three (part of the fourth) . But how the beans was he still alive, then he died instantly before Vader could finish him off? If you check it out, Vader is swinging at him, but then Obi Wan just disappears before Vader kills him. And if he did, I think you'd see him die... Was he dead? Or did he have the extreme force to be dead but looking alive and then you die sortof when you disappear or something like that (that'd be cool)?

Also, who was your favorite character? Peace on Homes

Summer Has Come And Past

Summer is no more... it is now cool... the pool is freezing cold... leaves scattered across the ground show the decay of summer... and here I am... listening to Green Day... pretty sweet isnt it?... Yeah... I thought so... But here is my question which I'm sure is asked all the time on blogs... (like I give a bean though)... What is everyones five favorite bands?... Dont be shy... here are mine...

Jet... (Great beats)...Green Day...(Must I say more?)...U2... (Oh you know it, they've got everything)...No Doubt... (You know, that band with the girl that is now singing by herself and who,in my eyes, ruined her career for now... they have some pretty good tunes)...Flogging Molly...(Beat is sad, but you cant refuse that Irish stuff)...Disne--- WAIT WHY DO I HAVE DISNEY ON MY MUSIC PLAYER!? WHAT THE BEANS!?...The Who...(Maybe the Who, I mean, they're good and all, but some songs are pretty sad. Maybe Weird Al)

Damien

Priceless

Ummm beans... ! I couldnt get the pic to be on the bottom so you'll have to bear with me, just try reading the things first and kind of cover the pic with your hand. :-(


Subject: Demonstration In Syria

Many Syrians struggle to even read Arabic - much less have a clue about English.

So, how does a group of Syrian protest leaders create the most impact with their signs by having the standard "Death To Americans"(etc.) slogans printed in English?

Answer: They simply hire an English-speaking civilian to translate and write their statements into English.

Unfortunately, they were unaware the "civilian" insurance company employee hired for the job was a retired US Army sergeant. Obviously, pictures of the protest rally never made their way through the Arab TV network, but the results were "Priceless"

Remember

I want to give a message to all to remember 9/11. All the firefighters , police members, and helping citizens that lost their lives for those who seemed lost. For all those that died in the disaster; families, friends, loved ones... Do not forget

Where the Hel Did My Couch Go?

Haha excellent title, all props to Jonathan. But there is kind of an inside joke there. Everything is nice here in Corning, temperatures have dropped, making it nice indeed. Our cat is doing so much better, she's almost her old self (hating the other cats, well actually "hate" is a strong word, so I'll say dislike). Leo, our pup is getting better at obedience also, his bites are soft, but now he takes a liking to lying in the mud, so digging is in order...

Here is a story I had to make for the 4th quarter Composition Grammar thing. Its a play thing that I have to do really. But what I want for all you readers out there (except the Icantsayacussword spammers, who dont read it, but just comment) is to tell me what you think the meaning of the story is. Its a fairly long story, so you dont need to read it if you dont want. ;-)

James and the Sword


James never understood why he was never to touch the sword of his father, King Arthur. He was often told he was too young for such a power so great. But James was now sixteen and more burly than ever. Surely, he thought, he is ready for the sword; he had been waiting twelve years for this, ever since he learned of the sword.
He stood just a few feet from the sword, which was embedded in glass on top of three steps. As he saw that nobody was anywhere near, he felt an urge stronger than ever pull him to the sword, rarely had the sword been alone. Soon, so soon, will he be able to hold the sword that brought his father power, the sword he was kept from for all these years.
James took one small step towards the glass cabinet, Doubt falling into his mind. “ Father kept it from you for a reason, nobody HAS ever told you the whole story of the sword.”
“Nonsense!” came a different voice from his head. “Father kept it from me for his own selfish reasons! He must be afraid of how I may be able to use it better than he!”
And seeing the light of that assumption, James ran to the cabinet, flung open the door of it, and took hold of the sword. The sword, light and easy to handle, seemed durable beyond anything else, as if nothing can stop it.
As he stared and admired the sword, James felt more powerful than ever before, he felt as if he could take on anybody; somehow he must display his power. Of course! His sister’s wedding! Everyone would be there, here will he show Jacob, his colleague whom he hates so much, who is better at use of the sword. James took out his own sword, sheathed his father’s, and ran down the stairs. Running past the hall Jacob reached the doors and opened them. Here nobles and ladies, dressed in their best for the wedding, greeted him.
“Tell me, where is Sir Jacob? I must have a word with him.” He asked the nearest duke.
“Why, he’s over yonder, by the lemon tree, Prince.” The duke replied, pointing to his right.
James had left the duke without a word, he must show Jacob who is better, even as this was forming in James’ mind, hatred grew stronger towards Jacob, he will show him, he will never lose another match again.
Jacob, talking to a lady, looked over at James walking towards him. “Prince James!” he exclaimed. “How good to see you! I wanted to introduce-“
“Jacob, I challenge you to a duel, right here, right now!” James interrupted.
Jacob looked around, then back at James, smiling. “Prince James, surely you must be kidding me! I have no quarrel with you.”
Oblivious to all around him, James took the sword and thrust it at Jacob without a word. Jacob fell to his knees in silence, bleeding from his side as James prepared the final blow.
“James! No!” yelled a voice from behind, as James felt hard hands soften his grip on the sword. Doubt came back into his mind about the sword, saying, “Your father did have a reason.”
James let go of the sword and was confused, how was he back at the party? Why is Jacob bleeding? What happened? He thought of the last thing he could remember, the sword… He added it all up and at once knew the crime he had committed. Jacob was being taken away, there was no chance to talk to him right now. James looked around and saw his father. After that he rushed into his arms, crying, “Father, forgive me.”

Your Neighborhood Friendly Blogger,
Dameo

Tired of Unwanted Spam?

Well then this is for you! Recently discovered by me in some options on the blog. Spammers are just automated robots designed to just type the same stuff. So when you put "word verification" as yes in the options, the robots will have to do something extra to make that spammish comment. Trouble for the robots is, is that they arent designed for that. Hence, spammers are gone! Yay!

http://help.blogger.com/bin/answer.py?answer=1203

Cats Are Truly The Survivors of the Wild

Ok, things have come and gone, but the most important of them all are these pretty interesting things.

Dove Hunting with Mike was probably one of the sweetest things thats happened in a while... sure I didnt hit alot, but it was serious huntage. Details later...

The real thing about the subject is that one of our cats, Mia, had run away from our place after the arrival of the first new kitten. We all had our theories about what happened, that she was adopted into another home, that she died, or that she's forced, rather than adopted, into a home... Well... after around 3 months... shes back. She's in the state where we know that something wrong mustve happened to her. She is in a healthy state physically, though skinny , but mentally... its like Pet Cemetery, as my mom says. She rests all day, sleeps with her eyes open, and is always twitchy... so this means that she must have been just so paranoid when she was missing that she must have adapted all of these habits. She is still a great cat, like all cats :-D. She'll purr, and she still likes to be pet. It'll just be a matter of time before she's the old cat she was.

Dameo