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Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Which Hogwarts House do you belong?
4:49 PM

Your Result is: Alas! You belong to the house of Slytherine....

You value ambition, cunning, resourcefulness, and pure blood heritage.



Take Which Hogwarts House do you belong?


Monday, September 22, 2008
Oh Piss...
6:01 PM

Look at me! i'm just on a roll today with the blog posts! >.<

anyways... i'd just like to tell all my friends to STOP THE FREAKIN' DRAMA!!!!!!!!

Everything in life doesn't have to be a "OMG-my-life-is-going-to-end" moment!

and i know i'm guilty of this too so don't come yell at me! >=(

ok now that i got that out of my system...
=D
byebye
-Sam- =3

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Nevermind... >.<
5:18 PM

lol so ignore that last post!
i fixed the problem all by myself!!! aren't you proud??

anyways so you see that little box thingy over there ---------------->(look at the box)
well do you see the words across the top? (about, tag, links, credits, past)
well if you click on the "Tag" button a message thingy called a Cbox should show up where you can leave a message!

there problem solved!!! =D
yay!!! so go ahead and drop me a comment! =D
toodles
-Sam- ^.^

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Rawr
4:45 PM

so yeah just gave my blog a totally cool new template as you can see =P
but it doesn't have a place to put comments now... >.<
so until i can find a way to fix that i guess you're just bum out of luck.
but if you really wanted to leave me a comment then i guess you could go to the extreme and email it to me at:
twoblue4you62@yahoo.com
=P
but i highly doubt any of you will do that... then again who knows =P

but i'll probably just change my blog again in a week or so to something that allows comments...
guess you'll just have to wait and see!
so chao!
-Sam- ^_^

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...
2:52 PM

Poem for Grandma

Ashes of my memories
Float upon the breeze
The faces of my children
Swept away with ease

Crying tears of pain
As shadow from my past
Distant swirling thoughts
All float beyond my grasp

Places and occasions
And long forgotten dreams
All lost in the deep recesses
Of my memories

Watching the days pass
An unyielding reminder
Of many long-passed years
Those were not much kinder

Wishing for my hopes
Hoping for my dreams
Begging for my sanity
Not as distant as it seems

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Sunday, September 21, 2008
Princess of Thieves
7:08 PM

“God , Loki did you have to go and kill that one? He wasn’t doing us any harm!” exclaimed Blythe, taking deep gulps of air as she ran, “He wasn’t even guarding the place! He was just standing there.”

“Blythe, you know that we can’t let anyone recognize our faces. Plus he was a watchman for the king. He would have reported us right away and then we would have had to lay low for days! Trust me it’s better this way.”

“Oh fine. I guess you’re right.”

Blythe could fell her lungs burning in her chest but she knew that they had to put enough distance between the house and themselves before they could rest. The bundle under her arm was starting to feel as heavy as lead. Still they ran on. Shooting down alleyways and ducking around corners till Loki finally held his hand up to signal a stop.

Reading his ridged stance, Blythe quickly hunched down in the shadows of a nearby water barrel; her precious bundle clasped in her arms. Loki quickly did the same, crouching beside her in the alley. Still as stone, they stayed quiet as they heard hurried footsteps approaching from the street they had just ran down.

Blythe heard the steps slow to a stop a mere inches in front of their hiding spots. She was curious as to whom it was but she didn’t dare peek out to see. Instead she listened carefully to the person’s heavy breathing as they looked around and then continued running down the street. Letting out a quiet sigh of relief she carefully stood up and checked about her.

The street was quiet so she motioned to Loki and they both began walking quickly back the way they came. Only when they reached a tavern by the name of The Gold Coin, did Blythe and Loki relax.

Blythe made her way inside the rowdy tavern and she sidled up to the bar. The owner of the Gold Coin was a rather large man by the name of Bernie Kellan. He was a cheerful man with a balding head and kind face. He was also Blythe’s Secret Keeper.

With a nod to Bernie, Blythe and Loki made their way behind the bar and through the kitchen to the pantry beyond. With swift glances around for wandering eyes, Blythe reached for the rope handle on the floor and heaved up the heavy oak trap door. Ushering Loki through, she then scrambled down the ladder herself and cautiously shut the door again.

The descended into darkness and then rounded a corner into a brightly lit tunnel. Following the tunnel down its length they emerged in to an enormous cave-like room.

The room was brightly colored with banners and tapestries of all colors, shapes, and sizes, and lit with a dozen or so huge torches and a roaring fire at the end of the room. In the center of the room sat a long wooden table with benches for sitting running along each side. At the head of the table sat a huge throne like chair decorated in gold and red tones. Scattered about the room were various males and females talking loudly and drinking from tankards of ale. As soon as Blythe entered, all eyes were on her, and the room fell silent.

Everyone was staring expectantly at Blythe, and she let loose a huge grin that brought a sparkle to her eyes and sent the room into cheers. She sauntered over to the throne-like chair and sat down, waiting for the others to grow calm again. She set her bundle on the table in front of her and was bombarded with a million questions at once.

“How did you get it?”

“Were there many guards?”

“Is it true what they say about it? That it’s made of solid gold and sapphire encrusted?”

“Real sapphires?”

“Aye, I heard that from the tavern keeper over at the Blue Wind. ‘E said it was the most expensive item he had e’er heard talk of. But ‘e also said it was the most guarded. How’d you get it lass?” asked Logan.

Logan was one of Blythe’s best friends and an old Scottish sailor to boot. He could swear up a storm that would make your mother cry. He was also the best informer she had in her Court of Thieves.

“Why Logan” Blythe cried “They don’t call me the Princess of Thieves for nothing! They wouldn’t tell tales of my thievery to their children if my skills weren’t worth anything. They wouldn’t whisper of the Shadow Girl around every corner if I weren’t worth my spit, now would they?”

“Aye your right about that lass, ye are” laughed Logan “I only wanted to ‘ear of your tale, Oh Princess of Thieves. And of course see yer treasure.”

“Oh you be wanting to see my prize, are you” laughed Blythe “Well then here it is!”

With that she grabbed the corner of her bundle and with one smooth jerk, uncovered her prize.


-I don't even know... >.<-

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Thursday, September 11, 2008
Nursery Rhymes
4:47 PM

If All The World Were Paper...

If all the world were paper,
And all the sea were ink,
If all the trees
Were bread and cheese,
What should we have to drink?

Hark! Hark! The Dogs Do Bark!

Hark! Hark! The dogs do bark,
The beggars are coming to town.
Some in rags,
And some in tags,
And one in a velvet gown!

History:
These words were frequently chanted during the reign of Queen Elizabeth in the 16th century as homeless men and women begged her for food and water.



There Was A Crooked Man

There was a crooked man
Who walked a crooked mile.
He found a crooked sixpence
Against a crooked stile.
He bought a crooked cat
Which caught a crooked mouse,
And they all lived together
In a crooked little house.


Birds Of A Feather

Birds of a feather flock together,
And so will pigs and swine;
Rats and mice will have their choice,
And so will I have mine.


Ice Cream, A Penny A Lump

Ice cream, a penny a lump!
The more you eat, the more you jump.
Eeper, Weeper, Chimney sweeper,
Married a wife and could not keep her.
Married another,
Did not love her,
Up the chimney he did shove her!

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Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Necropolis
6:17 PM

A necropolis (plural: necropoleis or necropoles) is a large cemetery or burial place (from Greek nekropolis "city of the dead"). Apart from the occasional application of the word to modern cemeteries outside large towns, the term is chiefly used of burial grounds, often an abandoned city or town, near the sites of the centers of ancient civilizations.

Colma is a small incorporated town in San Mateo County, California, at the northern end of the San Francisco Peninsula in the San Francisco Bay Area. The population was 1,191 at the 2000 census. The town was founded as a necropolis in 1924.

With much of Colma's land dedicated to cemeteries (17 for the interment of humans and one for pets), the dead population outnumber the living by thousands to one. This has led to it being called "the city of the silent", and also has given rise to a humorous motto among some residents: "It's great to be alive in Colma".


=P i just like the word Necropolis! =D ~Sam

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