December 23, 2008

Rick Warren

I should warn you that this is all over the place, so forgive me. I'm not apologizing for anything Warren has done, or will do, but I've always been int he firm belief that understanding and accepting your opponents for who the are the bad...and GOOD.

Warren doesn't view it as Civil Rights. That ever occur to anyone here? That in is his own head he believes he is doing the right thing? Because of the way he's been fucked over in life? by the way he was warped as a child? Or because he opposes something you support he must be evil and against doing the right thing. People like Warren, and Bush, and Palin are people who think they are doing the right thing, because in their own twisted world they are. Their world is not twisted voluntarily i should remind you, but by their family, their generation, their environment. And to not understand that Warren may be doing something assholic, he has a reason behind what he's done, and that reason is rooted in century old beliefs. He isn't going to change, because he can't change.

It's impossible to change a persons world view. He has been brought up and bred into believing that Homosexuality is a sin, and really in his mind he believes he's trying to save those sinners. Is he right or wrong, no one can ever truly say because it isn't something knowable.

If we stand here and get on a soap box and decry others for not doing as we do, without ever understanding the other side, or why they may think that way, then we are no better.

We are all different people, and there is one very clear thing you all should remember, without evil there is no good. Because as a society if we were all monochrome there would be no society, just drones, robots. There is good in everything and everyone. Good comes from evil, just as evil comes from good. And to deny the good that has come from this evil, is to deny good as a whole.

December 18, 2008

Japanese Lesson 1

Hello everyone, welcome to my new blog...Lessons!
Since I'm trying to learn Japanese, I thought it would help to start teaching it as well.
I'm going to start off simple and put up ten words and give their romaji and then the Kana.
Well...since i can't find audio files i need for most of these things...and any fancy dictionary notation...you'll have to live for now with my pitiful attempt to sound out each word.
On that note, r's are made with a kind of half r/l sound, hard to explain...listen to the "arigatou" clip to hear it.

good - ii - いい "e"
bad - dame - だめ "dah-may"
yes - hai - はい
no - iie - いいえ
hello - konnichiwa - こんにちは "co-knee-chi-wah"
good-bye - sayounara - さようなら "saw-yo-nah-ra"
this - kore - これ "co-ray"
that - sore - それ "so-ray"
thank you - arigatou - ありがとう
I (formal) - watashi - わたし "wah-tah-shi"

Not much at the moment, I have a few...worksheets...cheat sheets...and even tests (as well as homework). Also since not everyone can read the Japanese characters, please post a comment in this post about that, and I'll see what i can do.

December 10, 2008

Coin, Revisted

Here we go gang, i'm back and posting the final bit of my story...coin...
Extra prize if you can guess why it's called that.

coin

Andrea Daveys stood in the back of the gas station convenience store, staring at the container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. The door to the freezer hung open before her, but the cold didn’t really bother her. She frowned, turning the frozen treat around in her hand, not really reading the information, just thinking. She hated ice cream. It had memories of her father that she couldn’t shake off. Gently she tossed it into the air, and catching it. She repeated this, still lost in her thoughts. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her sister.
She pushed the freezer door shut and made her way through one of the few isle in the store. The door opened to the store, with a faint beep. Andrea looked up and saw a young man wearing a jacket, his hands buried in the jacket’s pockets. She shook her head and looked to her left, seeing the row of candy. For a moment she wondered if a chocolate bar would be enough for her sister, instead of the ice cream. She sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be fair.
After a moment she gets behind the young man standing at the counter, buying cigarettes from the owner. Her cell phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. She didn’t bother go for it. The buzz was an alarm, set for 9:45pm. Her favorite show would be on in fifteen minutes. She watched as the owner moved slowly around behind the counter, getting the cigarettes. Moving the ice cream from her right hand, to her left, to relieve the cold, she groaned.
Time slowed as the young man pulled something from his right pocket. Andrea saw the gun in his hand as it moved to point at the owner. She felt her heart race, pounding hard in her chest. Her eyes focused on the gun.
Her fingers went numb, and she dropped the ice cream. It hit the tile hard, breaking the cheap plastic seal, and sending the insides in all directions. She felt the cold splash against her leg, instantly knowing the man in front of her would have felt the ice cream as well.
He did. He turned to her. First his eyes, looking down in surprise, then, up at her. She reacted, instantly. Her right hand reached out and grabbed the young man’s hand. She followed with her left elbow, just below the man’s ribs.
The gun didn’t fire. She felt the man’s grip of the gun loosen, and she quickly grabbed for the barrel, preventing it from falling to the ground. The man himself stumbled backwards and fell onto his back, gasping for breath.
Andrea smiled slightly, feeling as if she did some good, before looking to the owner. He still looked frightened. She smiled wider and placed the gun on the counter. “Don’t worry.” She looked around and down at the gunman. His eyes were wide and his mouth open, trying to breath. “You’ll be fine.”
She pulled out the cell phone from her pocket. “I’m going to call the police, than I’ll help ya clean up.” She dialed the phone, before pressing it to her ear. It ringed in her ear. She looked down to see the ice cream melting around her feet, so she stepped into the back of the store.
“Detective Carter,” came a bored voice from the phone.
“Hi Steven.” She glanced back at the owner, still standing in shock.
“What Andrea?” Steven sounding just as bored.
Andrea smiled to herself, and stared at the freezer in front of her. “Well, I took out a robber at a Stop and Go.”
“And…” he said. She could swear she could hear the rolling of his eyes. “You should call the 9-1-1 operator, not me.”
“Well forgive me for wanting to brag…” she said sighing deeply.
“Look, I’m bu-”
A loud bang cuts him off.
“What is that?” he cried out in her ear, she could hear a clatter on the other end.
She had spun around as another bang went off. She saw the owner standing over the would-be-robber. Blood had splattered onto his shoes, and the bottom of his pants. He held the gun, pointed down, a gentle stream of smoke coming from the barrel.

Zacharia stood before the nightstand and carefully removed the things on top of the stand, before laying down the case. He lifted the latches, taking his time, making as little noise as possible.
First he removed a small pistol and placed it on the nightstand. Than he removed a small pack of extra long zip ties, followed by a long piece of cloth. Next he took out a tape recorder. Finally an even smaller case, made of wood and initials carved into it.
Zacharia looked over to the sleeping man and sighed softly. He scanned the room, looking for the best advantage. He gently picked up the cloth from the nightstand and stood over the sleeping man. With his free hand he reached forward and opened the man’s mouth, than lifting his hand, so he could wrap the cloth around the sleeping man’s head, creating a gag.
He left the man’s head go. A soft grunt came from the man, as he slowly woke from his slumber.
“Good…” Zacharia said softly. The man tried to move away, scrambling across the bed. “I wouldn’t…Mr. Harper…” He gestured to the gun on the table passively; making sure the man saw it. “I think I could fire a shot before you’d get to a door or window.”
Harper stopped moving, his eyes locked on Zacharia, tears starting to form. Zacharia just nodded and picked up the package of zip ties and the gun, walking over to the side of the bed the man had scrambled to.
“Arms out front…” Zacharia said. After a moment the man didn’t comply. “Do as I say, or you will die.” His arms sprung forward. Zacharia put the pack to his mouth and gently pulled the zip tie out of it using his teeth. He tossed the package aside and slowly wrapped the tie around Harper’s wrists.
“Alright.” He pushes the man back down onto the bed. “This won’t take long.” Zacharia laid down the gun and walks over to pick up the small engraved box. He runs his thumb along the crack along the side. With a gentle push the box opened, exposing a scalpel sitting on the velvet inside. He gently pulled the tool from its resting place.
He looked at the man, twirling the scalpel between his fingers. “I’m sorry I can’t make this quick.” He reached down and slowly lifted Harpers right foot. “But…” Zacharia sliced the blade across his victim’s Achilles’ tendon. A muffled cry of pain came from the man. He gently lifted Harper’s left foot and repeated the process. “You don’t deserve that luxury.” The man laid on the bed, tears streaming down his face.
Zacharia sets the case down next to the immobilized man. He walks back around to the night stand and picked up the recorder. His thumb presses down the record and play button, starting the machine. “Now…Where to begin…” He absent mindedly balanced the scalpel on the back of his fingers, and stared at Harper.
“Right…” Zacharia looked down at Harper’s eyes, seeing the fear in them. “I bet you never thought you would ever feel this kind of fear?” Zacharia shook his head. “So, shall we start…
“Bethany Daveys…” His mind went back over the research he had done before his arrival. “You were her pediatrician. At the age of twelve, she was found, alone in her home, tied up, molested…” he paused for a moment, remembering the data. “Her father was suppose to be watching her. Several days later, he was found dead, hung himself, in motel room. Bethany currently resides in a mental institution, her mind…broken. She thinks she’s still twelve. Stuck at that age for all her life…”
Zacharia slowly walked around the bed, thinking, his mind lost for a moment. He looked to Harper. “You know who I’m talking about…” Harper lay still, his eyes following Zacharia as he walked. He smiled slightly. “How about Helena Kirkland?” He nodded. “Ten. Again, home alone, and the same treatment. No charges were filed. But her mother blamed her father. She left him. His grief ate away at him. Years later, he was left alone, his job gone. He was gone then…” He paused for a moment and walked over to Harper.
Zacharia looked at his own watch. “It’s getting late…” He picked up the gun, placing the recorder in it’s place, and pointed it at Harper.. Zacharia pulls the trigger. The man cries out as the gun gives out a soft click. “It’s not loaded…” He laughs softly and walks over to his case. He gently puts away the gun and look to his victim.
“Here’s the deal. I’ll remove the gag, and turn myself in, if you be honest and admit to those crimes, loud enough for the recorder to here.”
Harper nods. Zacharia leans forward and pulls the gag down.
“I-I did it. I raped those girls. I killed the one…Please don’t kill me.”
He paused for a moment. Zacharia slashed the scalpel across Harper’s throat, cutting deep. “No…”

Andrea was tired. It’d had taken all night to deal with the owner who shot the kid trying to rob his store. Not only was she a witness, but she was sure she was in some kind of troupe for leaving the gun on the counter. She had to admit she hadn’t thought the owner would shot the kid, but…
She walked along the row of desks in the police station. As a beat reporter she spent plenty of time in the station, talking with the cops, getting to know a few. She had stopped a few years ago, but still had friends on the force. She made her way to the break room, hoping there was a pot of coffee she could get a drink from.
She pushed open the door to the small room. It had a counter across from the door, that ended with a fridge. On the other side of the counter, an empty pot of coffee sat. In the center of the room, a table, with a few chairs surrounding it.
Detective Steven Carter sat at the table, looking at a file, his hand holding a cup. He sat lost in thought, looking at the folder contents. Andrea slipped into a seat next to him and gently lifted the cup from his hand and took a sip.
Steven looked up at her, surprise fading into frustration. “I was drinking that.”
“I’ve been up all night being questioned, pain in the ass.”
“Yes, I can see how you’re annoyed, I had to fill out a bunch of paper work because of you.” He was being sarcastic, but a smile still crossed his face. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
She laughed. “Well, he wasn’t going to shoot me. He was just a little peeved that people kept robbing his store…” she trailed off, looking into the distance, her smile faded.
“Andrea…” Steven leaned forward, trying to look into her eyes.
In an instant she reached out and grabbed the file, smiling again, looking at the file in it.
“Hey!” Steven said, grabbing for, but failing.
It was a homicide. The face of the victim was clipped on the top of the page. Something about the face was familiar to her. She scanned the front page, the first officer at the scene’s report.
“What ya got here?” she asks.
He sighed. “I shouldn’t let you read that.”
Andrea laughed. “You going to stop me?”
“Not really,” Steven said, sighing. “Joseph Harper, found dead in his home last night. A very clean break in, almost nothing touched. The killer cut the back of Harper’s feet, and then his throat. Forensics say it was a small blade, only an inch, at best.”
Andrea flipped through some of the pages, not really reading anything. She stopped holding the pages up, seeing a transcript. “What’s this?”
“Hm?” Steven leaned around to get a look at the paper. “That is from a tape recorder found at the scene. Two voices, I’m assuming ones the killer, the other the victim.”
Andrea read the paper. Feeling something inside her churn. “Lucky us…” she said, lost in her own mind.
“Lucky…” Steven said, and gently tugged the file from Andrea’s hand. “It looks like the killer left it there on purpose. Either to expose Mr. Harper’s crimes, or his own.”
“You have a suspect.” Andrea shifted in the seat, feeling jittery, restless all of the sudden.
“One, an ex-surgeon, Zacharia Kirkland. Looks like the second girl is his own. Cold case had a copy of the file of her death. Zacharia was a suspect, but no proof against him, and the case finally just died.”
Andrea nodded, taking a sip of her coffee, and looked into it’s dark abyss. “Zacharia Kirkland, huh?” she asked, more to herself than to Steven.
“Is everything okay Andrea?”
She looked up and smiled. “Yeah, just tired.”
Steven reddened a bit and shook his head. “Okay then…”
Andrea laughed embarrassed and stood. “Well, I’m going to head home, kay.”
“Sure.” Steven nodded.
She waved to Steven as she left him alone in the break room.
Immediately she went to Steven’s desk, and pulled open the desk draw. Inside was his badge. She tucked it into her coat pocket. She needed to find Mr. Kirkland. And find out what he knew about Bethany.
* * *
Zacharia sat in the middle of the small apartment. Nothing furnished the room, except for a mattress in the corner, and a stack of books next to it. He didn’t need much anyway. He ate out most of the time, and had enough money saved to live like that for long enough.
He had lost track of time, but knew the sun had reached about it’s highpoint, by the lack of direct sun leading into the apartment. He slowed his breath down, his mind going over the events of the night before. He smiled to himself, feeling justice had been done, once again.
A knock came from the door. He stood and walked slowly to the door, looking through the peephole. A woman, in her late twenties, early thirties, red hair, stood on the other side.
He pulled the door open. “Yes…” he said.
“Mr. Kirkland?” she asked.
“Yes…” he repeated.
“My name is Andrea Daveys.” She pulled a badge from her coat, showing it to Zacharia. “I’m a detective.”
He felt his hand tighten on the door, remembering the name, “Daveys”.
“What can I do for you?”
“Did you know a Joseph Harper?”
She knew.
Zacharia stood for a moment and smiled. “I know of him. I read some of his work in a medical journal...”
“Is he well known?” She asked, harmlessly.
“In some circles…” Zacharia said.
Detective Daveys nodded. “Mr. Kirkland. Do you happen to know where your wife is?”
Zacharia felt his hand tighten even harder on the door, and felt his teeth grit. “My Wife…Ex-Wife…Is not here. I don’t know where she is…” He started to breath deeply. “What is this about?”
“Your daughter’s name was Helena, correct?” She asked, ignoring his question.
“Yes. Now. What is this about?” Zacharia felt a rage building inside him. His hands almost felt like grabbing the woman, choking her.
“I’m looking into the death of a Joseph Harper, and into Bethany Daveys and Helena Kirkland.” Detective Daveys looked up at him, her face calm, but her eyes were on fire.
Zacharia shook his head. “Like I said, I read about Harper. Helena was my daughter. I don’t know anything about a Bethany Da-”
“Alright.” Detective Daveys nodded and smiled. “Thank you for your time.” She turned away from him, and left along the building’s hallway.
Zacharia felt his rage come to a full boil as he slammed the door shut. He knew, she must die.

Andrea sighed as she walked along the white hallways, smelling the obvious odor of medicine. She came to a stop at a locked gate. To her right was a window, with wire embedded in it. Below it was a drawer. She reached into her jacket and placed her wallet, keys, and badge inside the drawer.
She looked up at the woman behind the window, as the draw retracted. She smiled and spoke over the intercom. “No Ice-cream?” she asked.
Andrea shook her head. “I left it out all night.” She laughed softly, not sure why she lied to the woman. “What time is it anyway?”
“Just after six.” She said, carefully taking the items from the drawer, putting them away, so Andrea could get them when she returned.
“How is she?” Andrea asked.
“Fine from what I heard. Her birthday is coming up.” She smiled.
“Yeah…” Andrea nodded, thinking of her own birthday, alone in her apartment.
A buzz broke her thoughts. “Go on through,” the woman said.
Andrea nodded and walked through the now open gate. This was a path she walked often, she knew the twists and turns, and even some of the players along the way. She reached a large recreation room.
Two men sat closest to her, playing cards, arguing over every card played, as if the other was trying to cheat them. This wasn’t new, Andrea wasn’t even sure if the two did anything else, or even sleep. She just smiled, walking past them.
Only one other person was in the room. She figured at this time, most were in the dining room, or watching the T.V. A young woman, sat in the far corner, in front of a canvass, engrossed in her work. Andrea sat next to the woman.
“What are you working on Bethany?” She asked, looking over her sister’s shoulder.
Bethany looked at Andrea and smiled, hugging her, getting some paint on her coat. “I missed you.”
Andrea smiled and kissed her sister’s cheek. “So, going to tell me what you’re working on here?” She asked, looking at the rudimentary picture. She could tell what it was, but felt it better for her sister to explain it.
Bethany smiled. “Well, this is us!” she pointed the brush at the two smallest stick figures. “This is mommy and daddy.” She pointed at the second set of figures on the page.
Andrea nodded, smiling. It still felt weird for her to hear her twenty-three year old sister refer to her parents, in such a child-like way. She knew why, but that didn’t help it be any less awkward.
“What you gonna get me for my birthday?” she asked, smiling at Andrea.
“Well, I haven’t decided yet. What do you want?”
Bethany shrugged. “I dunno…” she looked sad for a moment. “When is daddy coming back?”
Andrea felt tears in her eyes, looking at her sister. It was a question her sister always asked, and one she never had an answer to. She couldn’t understand how Bethany could have so much love for the man who made her this way.
Instead Andrea nodded slightly and looked at the painting. “I don’t know.”
Bethany smiled. “Maybe he’ll bring me a puppy. I want a puppy.”
Andrea laughed and pulled her sister close and kissed her forehead. “Alright.”
The two sat in silence.
“Bethany, do you remember a Dr. Harper?”
Her little sister looked at her and nodded. “He was my doctor, I think. Been awhile since I’ve seen him.”
Andrea stood and patted her sister on the shoulder. “Sis, I got to get going.”
Bethany looked sad. “You’re not going to leave me, too, are you?”
Andrea stood in silence, looking at her little sister and smiled. “Of course not.”

Zacharia sat in the car, staring at the lighted clock on the dashboard. The numbers slowly ticked closer to eleven. The parking garage was quite, and only a few dim lights hung from the ceiling. He sighed, looking at the gun laying on the seat next to him.
The clocked flashed a new number as headlights filled the darkened garage. He couldn’t see the driver, but knew instinctively who it must have been.
He picked up the gun from beside him and slipped out of the car. Slowly the other car came to a stop, and he heard the motor stop, and saw the headlights shut off. A figure got out of the car. Zacharia saw Andrea Daveys step into the light.
Slowly he stepped from the shadows as well.
“Detective…” he said, softly.
She froze and turned to look at Zacharia. “M-Mister Kirkland.” Fear filled her eyes.
He moved closer, making sure the gun could obviously be seen. “I’m sorry…” he said.
“You don’t have to do this.” She reposnded.
“I…I can’t…stop…” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I did the right thing. Kirkland was a bad person…”
“I know…” she said softly. “What he did to your daughter was wrong…”
Zacharia laughed. “And your sister.” He smiled, seeing her eyes widen. “I wanted to make sure, when I heard your name. You’re Bethany’s sister. You’re father was innocent of the crime he took to his grave…”
“Innocent…” She said softly, looking down. “No…”
“He was!” He cried, waving the gun. “I know…”
“My father was an evil man.” Andrea said, under her breath.
“He was innocent…” Zacharia insisted.
“You forget…Long before Bethany, I was there…”
The two stood in silence. Zacharia looked at her, watching her. Andrea slowly lifted her head, staring him straight in the eye
“You’re going to kill me?” she asked.
“I…” he looked at her. “I have to.”
She took a deep breath. “Do you?”
Zacharia waved the gun. “I can’t stop now. So many left.”
“I did research on you too.” She said, softly. “I went to the hospital where you worked. Six men died, during your operations. Did you kill them all?”
Zacharia smiled softly. “Over the years. Slowly they came to me, the first by chance, then later I did a little work behind the scenes, having some even transferred to my hospital…” He laughed softly. “And I gave them the justice they deserved.”
Andrea stood silent, staring at him.
Zacharia growled. “I did what was needed. I did the right thing.”
“The right thing?” she said softly, and looked at him. “Fine.” Detective Daveys stood straighter and nodded. “If killing me is the right thing. Do it.” She closed her eyes and waited.
“I have to…” he said, his voice soft, unsure. Zacharia raised the gun. His hand started to shake. He couldn’t do it. Something was holding him back. He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry…” he said, even softer than before. He fired.

November 13, 2008

Depression

I would first like to apologize for not posting in...well over a week.
I am in a funk, depressed even. Election day came last week, and the guy I voted for lost. It's sad for me. It was my first presidential election, and I voted for a loser. Course, I suppose it's my fault that I live in a very liberal part of the state, but how the hell would I have known the whole damn state would turn blue? I sense fraud, And I'm bloody pissed. I will not have my vote taken away from me.
*sighs*
I'm just annoyed...angry...sad...forgive me.
One last thing.
Screw you Ron Klein. I know you rigged the election.

Thank you.

November 2, 2008

Saturday...er...Sunday

It's Sunday morning.
Slow...slow...morning.
I wish i had something to say.
But I'm saving up my real chops for the next few days.
All I can say now is, Republican, Democrat, Independent, Vote.

November 1, 2008

Coin Endings

Endings to the short story, i just posted. Please tell me which works best.
1.)

Steven Carter sighed, standing in the elevator. It was almost eleven, and he hadn’t heard from Andrea all day. He’d just come from her apartment, and she wasn’t there. Something was bothering her, he knew it. He also hadn’t been able to find Zacharia Kirkland either. It seemed like everyone was avoiding him.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Beyond the doors, he could see to people. The back of a red haired woman, and a man holding a gun. Immediately he pulled his own sidearm. He moved quickly, watching the man, ready.

The man holding the gun fired. His training kicked in, and he jerked his own weapon up, and fired. Time seemed to slow as Steven began to run towards the two. The man, who Steven recognized as Zacharia Kirkland, fell to the floor. He started to run faster, knowing the woman must have been Andrea.

Andrea walked over and knelt over the body of Zacharia.

“Andrea.” he said, reaching her side.

She didn’t look up. “He missed…” she said, her voice distracted.

“What?”

She didn’t respond.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“He was a troubled man.” She said, almost ignoring him. “His life, destroyed by another.”

“Okay…” Steven said, confused by what was going on.

“He was wrong though. My father wasn’t innocent. He may not have done anything to Bethany…but I was there, long before she was.”

“Andrea…” he felt a need to reach his hand out, to comfort her, but something held him back.

“I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t protect myself.” She stared at the body. “I couldn’t protect the kid last night. And I couldn’t protect a man, who was scarred by the same act I was…” she said, softly.

Steven didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry…” she said, her voice more than a whisper.

Before Steven could react, a loud bang filled the garage. Andrea fell limp over Zacharia’s body.

“Andrea!” he cried, kneeling beside her, and quickly rolling her over. A red flower bloomed over her chest. A gun lay on the concrete floor. “No…please don’t.” He felt for a pulse. He didn’t find one.

2.)

Steven Carter sighed, standing in the elevator. It was almost eleven, and he hadn’t heard from Andrea all day. He’d just come from her apartment, and she wasn’t there. Something was bothering her, he knew it. He also hadn’t been able to find Zacharia
Kirkland either. It seemed like everyone was avoiding him.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Beyond the doors, he could see to people. The back of a red haired woman, and a man holding a gun. Immediately he pulled his own sidearm. He moved quickly, watching the man, ready.

The man holding the gun fired. His training kicked in, and he jerked his own weapon up, and fired. Time seemed to slow as Steven began to run towards the two. The man, who Steven recognized as Zacharia Kirkland, fell to the floor. He started to run faster, knowing the woman must have been Andrea.

Andrea walked over and knelt over the body of Zacharia.

“Andrea.” he said, reaching her side.

She didn’t look up. “He missed…” she said, her voice distracted.

“What?”

She didn’t respond.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“He was a troubled man.” She said, almost ignoring him. “His life, destroyed by another.”

“Okay…” Steven said, confused by what was going on.

“He was wrong though. My father wasn’t innocent. He may not have done anything to Bethany…but I was there, long before she was.”

“Andrea…” he felt a need to reach his hand out, to comfort her, but something held him back.

“I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t protect myself.” She stared at the body. “I couldn’t protect the kid last night. And I couldn’t protect a man, who was scarred by the same act I was…” she said, softly.

Steven reached down and touched her shoulder. “Andrea…It isn’t your fault.”
She looked up at him. Tears stained her face.

Steven crouched beside her and looked her in the eyes. “You can’t carry the blame of what’s happened to others, or what others have done.” He smiled, softly. “All you can do is grow, and be the best you can be.”

He pulled her to him, holding her tightly. Her face buried into his shoulder, still crying. “I’m sorry,” was all she said.

Coin Version 4 (Everything but the end)

This is everything but the end, there is a reason (mainly i don't know which end to put). I'm going to post several endings, and ask your opinion of them. That'll be in just a minute, so enjoy the story till then.

Andrea Daveys stood in the back of the gas station convenience store, staring at the container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. The door to the freezer hung open before her, but the cold didn’t really bother her. She frowned, turning the frozen treat around in her hand, not really reading the information, just thinking. She hated ice cream. It had memories of her father that she couldn’t shake off. Gently she tossed it into the air, and catching it. She repeated this, still lost in her thoughts. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her sister.

She pushed the freezer door shut and made her way through one of the few isle in the store. The door opened to the store, with a faint beep. Andrea looked up and saw a young man wearing a jacket, his hands buried in the jacket’s pockets. She shook her head and looked to her left, seeing the row of candy. For a moment she wondered if a chocolate bar would be enough for her sister, instead of the ice cream. She sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be fair.

After a moment she gets behind the young man standing at the counter, buying cigarettes from the owner. Her cell phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. She didn’t bother go for it. The buzz was an alarm, set for 9:45pm. Her favorite show would be on in fifteen minutes. She watched as the owner moved slowly around behind the counter, getting the cigarettes. Moving the ice cream from her right hand, to her left, to relieve the cold, she groaned.

Time slowed as the young man pulled something from his right pocket. Andrea saw the gun in his hand as it moved to point at the owner. She felt her heart race, pounding hard in her chest. Her eyes focused on the gun.
Her fingers went numb, and she dropped the ice cream. It hit the tile hard, breaking the cheap plastic seal, and sending the insides in all directions. She felt the cold splash against her leg, instantly knowing the man in front of her would have felt the ice cream as well.

He did. He turned to her. First his eyes, looking down in surprise, then, up at her. She reacted, instantly. Her right hand reached out and grabbed the young man’s hand. She followed with her left elbow, just below the man’s ribs.

The gun didn’t fire. She felt the man’s grip of the gun loosen, and she quickly grabbed for the barrel, preventing it from falling to the ground. The man himself stumbled backwards and fell onto his back, gasping for breath.

Andrea smiled slightly, feeling as if she did some good, before looking to the owner. He still looked frightened. “Don’t worry, I’m a cop.” She put the gun onto the counter, while reaching with her other hand into her coat, for her badge. “And he should be just fine, just knocked the wind from him.” She flashed the gold emblem to the owner.

He didn’t move.

She blinked and nodded. “I tell ya what. I’ll go to my car, I’ve got a radio, I’ll call this in. Afterwards, I’ll come back, and help you clean up the mess.” She smiled, trying reassure the man.

Andrea quickly left the store, and went to her car, parked near-by. She laughed softly, proud of herself. Not that she hadn’t taken down crooks before, it always felt good, slamming and elbow or knee into a bad guy. It also never usually goes down this simple. Sure, the ice cream was lost, and she’d have make something up to her sister, but that wasn’t going to bring her down.

She opened the driver’s door and reached in for the hand-set sitting on the middle of her dash. “This is Detective Daveys. There has been an attempted robbery. Suspect has been apprehended, could you please send back up. I’m at a gas station at the corner of Wilkens and Uni-” A loud bang cut her off. Her finger slipped off the button on the radio.

“Detective Daveys! What is going on?” the voice of the dispatcher over the radio came through.

“I don’t know…” She trailed off. Two more bangs came in quick succession.

Andrea dropped the radio and ran quickly to the front of the store. Just inside the glass doors, she saw the owner standing over the would-be-robber. Blood had splattered onto his shoes, and the bottom of his pants. He held the gun, pointed down, a gentle stream of smoke coming from the barrel.



Zacharia stood before the nightstand and carefully removed the things on top of the stand, before laying down the case. He lifted the latches, taking his time, making as little noise as possible.

First he removed a small pistol. It wasn’t loaded, but it didn’t need to be. Than he removed a small pack of extra long zip ties, followed by a long piece of cloth. Next he took out a tape recorder. Finally an even smaller case, made of wood and initials carved into it.

Zacharia looked over to the sleeping man and sighed softly. He scanned the room, looking for the best advantage. He gently picked up the cloth from the nightstand and stood over the sleeping man. With his free hand he reached forward and opened the man’s mouth, than lifting his hand, so he could wrap the cloth around the sleeping man’s head, creating a gag.

He left the man’s head go. A soft grunt came from the man, as he slowly woke from his slumber.

“Good…” Zacharia said softly. The man tried to move away, scrambling across the bed. “I wouldn’t…Mr. Harper…” He gestured to the gun on the table passively; making sure the man saw it. “I think I could fire a shot before you’d get to a door or window.”
Harper stopped moving, his eyes locked on Zacharia, tears starting to form. Zacharia just nodded and picked up the package of zip ties and the gun, walking over to the side of the bed the man had scrambled to.

“Arms out front…” Zacharia said. After a moment the man didn’t comply. “Do as I say, or you will die.” His arms sprung forward. Zacharia put the pack to his mouth and gently pulled the zip tie out of it using his teeth. He tossed the package aside and slowly wrapped the tie around Harper’s wrists.

“Alright.” He pushes the man back down onto the bed. “This won’t take long.” Zacharia laid down the gun and walks over to pick up the small engraved box. He runs his thumb along the crack along the side. With a gentle push the box opened, exposing a scalpel sitting on the velvet inside. He gently pulled the tool from its resting place.

He looked at the man, twirling the scalpel between his fingers. “I’m sorry I can’t make this quick.” He reached down and slowly lifted Harpers right foot. “But…” Zacharia sliced the blade across his victim’s Achilles’ tendon. A muffled cry of pain came from the man. He gently lifted Harper’s left foot and repeated the process. “You don’t deserve that luxury.” The man laid on the bed, tears streaming down his face.

Zacharia sets the case down next to the immobilized man. He walks back around to the night stand and picked up the recorder. His thumb presses down the record and play button, starting the machine. “Now…Where to begin…” He absent mindedly balanced the scalpel on the back of his fingers, and stared at Harper.

“Right…” Zacharia looked down at Harper’s eyes, seeing the fear in them. “I bet you never thought you would ever feel this kind of fear?” Zacharia shook his head. “So, shall we start…

“Bethany Daveys…” His mind went back over the research he had done before his arrival. “You were her pediatrician. At the age of twelve, she was found, alone in her home, tied up, molested…” he paused for a moment, remembering the data. “Her father was suppose to be watching her. Several days later, he was found dead, hung himself, in motel room. Bethany currently resides in a mental institution, her mind…broken. She thinks she’s still twelve. Stuck at that age for all her life…”

Zacharia slowly walked around the bed, thinking, his mind lost for a moment. He looked to Harper. “You know who I’m talking about…” Harper lay still, his eyes following Zacharia as he walked. He smiled slightly. “How about Helena Kirkland?” He nodded. “Ten. Again, home alone, and the same treatment. No charges were filed. But her mother blamed her father. She left him. His grief ate away at him. Years later, he was left alone, his job gone. He was gone then…” He paused for a moment and walked over to Harper.

Zacharia looked at his own watch. “It’s getting late…” He picked up the gun, placing the recorder in it’s place, and pointed it at Harper.. Zacharia pulls the trigger. The man cries out as the gun gives out a soft click. “It’s not loaded…” He laughs softly and walks over to his case. He gently puts away the gun and look to his victim.

“Here’s the deal. I’ll remove the gag, and turn myself in, if you be honest and admit to those crimes, loud enough for the recorder to here.”
Harper nods. Zacharia leans forward and pulls the gag down.

“I-I did it. I raped those girls. I killed the one…Please don’t kill me.”

He paused for a moment. “No…”

Zacharia slashed the scalpel across Harper’s throat, cutting deep. A spray of blood came from his throat as his eyes filled with pain and fear. All that came from the man was a gurgle as he died.



Andrea was tired. It’d had taken all night to deal with the owner who shot the kid trying to rob his store. Not only was she a witness, but plenty of her higher ups jumped down her throat about neglect, leaving the gun on the counter. She had to admit she hadn’t thought the owner would shot the kid, but…

She walked along the row of desks in the police station. She reached her own and sighed, idly looking at a few of the papers that were stacked on her desk. After a moment she shook her head and made her way to the break room, hoping someone had already started a pot of coffee.

She pushed open the door to the small room. It had a counter across from the door, that ended with a fridge. On the other side of the counter, a pot of coffee sat, half food. In the center of the room, a table, with a few chairs surrounding it.
Steven Carter, a colleague and friend, sat at the table, looking at a file, his hand holding a cup. He sat lost in thought, looking at the folder contents. Andrea slipped passed him and went to pour herself a cup of the brew. She took a sip and looked over his shoulder, curious.

It was a homicide. The face of the victim was clipped on the top of the page. Something about the face was familiar to her.

“What ya got here?” she asks.

Steven jerks a bit and looks over his shoulder. “Oh! Didn’t see you?”
Andrea laughs and sits sideways in the close chair to him. “I walked right in front of ya. Must be a puzzler.” She grabbed at the file, pulling it away from him. She scanned the front page, the first officer at the scene’s report. She sipped her coffee.

“Not really,” Steven said, sighing as she took the folder away. “Joseph Harper, found dead in his home last night. A very clean break in, almost nothing touched. The killer cut the back of Harper’s feet, and then his throat. Forensics say it was a small blade, only an inch, at best.”

Andrea flipped through some of the pages, not really reading anything. She stopped holding the pages up, seeing a transcript. “What’s this?”

“Hm?” Steven leaned around to get a look at the paper. “That is from a tape recorder found at the scene. Two voices, I’m assuming ones the killer, the other the victim.”
Andrea read the paper. Feeling something inside her churn. “Lucky us…” she said, lost in her own mind.

“Lucky…” Steven said, and gently tugged the file from Andrea’s hand. “It looks like the killer left it there on purpose. Either to expose Mr. Harper’s crimes, or his own.”

“You have a suspect.” Andrea shifted in the seat, feeling jittery, restless all of the sudden.

“One, an ex-surgeon, Zacharia Kirkland. Looks like the second girl is his own. Cold case had a copy of the file of her death. Zacharia was a suspect, but no proof against him, and the case finally just died.”

Andrea nodded, taking a sip of her coffee, and looked into it’s dark abyss.

“Zacharia Kirkland, huh?” she asked, more to herself than to Steven.

“Is everything okay Andrea?”

She looked up and smiled. “Yeah, just tired. Up all night.”

Steven reddened a bit and shook his head. “Yeah, heard about that. Sucks.”
Andrea laughed embarrassed and stood. “Well, I’ve got the day off, so I’ll see ya later, kay.”

“Sure.” Steven nodded.

She went over and poured the last of the coffee into the sink, and tossed the paper cup into the trash. She waved to Steven as she left him alone in the break room.
Immediately she went to her desk, and pulled open her desk draw. Inside was her badge. She tucked it into her coat pocket. She needed to find Mr. Kirkland. And find out what he knew about Bethany.



Zacharia sat in the middle of the small apartment. Nothing furnished the room, except for a mattress in the corner, and a stack of books next to it. He didn’t need much anyway. He ate out most of the time, and had enough money saved to live like that for long enough.

He had lost track of time, but knew the sun had reached about it’s highpoint, by the lack of direct sun leading into the apartment. He slowed his breath down, his mind going over the events of the night before. He smiled to himself, feeling justice had been done, once again.

A knock came from the door. He stood and walked slowly to the door, looking through the peephole. A woman, in her late twenties, early thirties, red hair, stood on the other side.

He pulled the door open. “Yes…” he said.

“Mr. Kirkland?” she asked.

“Yes…” he repeated.

“My name is Andrea Daveys.” She pulled a badge from her coat, showing it to Zacharia. “I’m a detective.”

He felt his hand tighten on the door, remembering the name, “Daveys”.

“What can I do for you?”

“Did you know a Joseph Harper?”

She knew.

Zacharia stood for a moment and smiled. “I know of him. I read some of his work in a medical journal...”

“Is he well known?” She asked, harmlessly.

“In some circles…” Zacharia said.

Detective Daveys nodded. “Mr. Kirkland. Do you happen to know where your wife is?”

Zacharia felt his hand tighten even harder on the door, and felt his teeth grit. “My Wife…Ex-Wife…Is not here. I don’t know where she is…” He started to breath deeply.

“What is this about?”

“Your daughter’s name was Helena, correct?” She asked, ignoring his question.

“Yes. Now. What is this about?” Zacharia felt a rage building inside him. His hands almost felt like grabbing the woman, choking her.

“I’m looking into the death of a Joseph Harper, and into Bethany Daveys and Helena Kirkland.” Detective Daveys looked up at him, her face calm, but her eyes were on fire.

Zacharia shook his head. “Like I said, I read about Harper. Helena was my daughter. I don’t know anything about a Bethany Da-”

“Alright.” Detective Daveys nodded and smiled. “Thank you for your time.” She turned away from him, and left along the building’s hallway.

Zacharia felt his rage come to a full boil as he slammed the door shut. He knew, she must die.



Andrea sighed as she walked along the white hallways, smelling the obvious odor of medicine. She came to a stop at a locked gate. To her right was a window, with wire embedded in it. Below it was a drawer. She reached into her jacket and placed her wallet, keys, and badge inside the drawer.

She looked up at the woman behind the window, as the draw retracted. She smiled and spoke over the intercom. “No Ice-cream?” she asked.

Andrea shook her head. “I left it out all night.” She laughed softly, not sure why she lied to the woman. “What time is it anyway?”

“Just after six.” She said, carefully taking the items from the drawer, putting them away, so Andrea could get them when she returned.

“How is she?” Andrea asked.

“Fine from what I heard. Her birthday is coming up.” She smiled.

“Yeah…” Andrea nodded, thinking of her own birthday, alone in her apartment.

A buzz broke her thoughts. “Go on through,” the woman said.

Andrea nodded and walked through the now open gate. This was a path she walked often, she knew the twists and turns, and even some of the players along the way. She reached a large recreation room.

Two men sat closest to her, playing cards, arguing over every card played, as if the other was trying to cheat them. This wasn’t new, Andrea wasn’t even sure if the two did anything else, or even sleep. She just smiled, walking past them.

Only one other person was in the room. She figured at this time, most were in the dining room, or watching the T.V. A young woman, sat in the far corner, in front of a canvass, engrossed in her work. Andrea sat next to the woman.

“What are you working on Bethany?” She asked, looking over her sister’s shoulder.
Bethany looked at Andrea and smiled, hugging her, getting some paint on her coat. “I missed you.”

Andrea smiled and kissed her sister’s cheek. “So, going to tell me what you’re working on here?” She asked, looking at the rudimentary picture. She could tell what it was, but felt it better for her sister to explain it.

Bethany smiled. “Well, this is us!” she pointed the brush at the two smallest stick figures. “This is mommy and daddy.” She pointed at the second set of figures on the page.

Andrea nodded, smiling. It still felt weird for her to hear her twenty-three year old sister refer to her parents, in such a child-like way. She knew why, but that didn’t help it be any less awkward.

“What you gonna get me for my birthday?” she asked, smiling at Andrea.

“Well, I haven’t decided yet. What do you want?”

Bethany shrugged. “I dunno…” she looked sad for a moment. “When is daddy coming back?”

Andrea felt tears in her eyes, looking at her sister. It was a question her sister always asked, and one she never had an answer to. She couldn’t understand how

Bethany could have so much love for the man who made her this way.

Instead Andrea nodded slightly and looked at the painting. “I don’t know.”

Bethany smiled. “Maybe he’ll bring me a puppy. I want a puppy.”

Andrea laughed and pulled her sister close and kissed her forehead. “Alright.”

The two sat in silence.

“Bethany, do you remember a Dr. Harper?”

Her little sister looked at her and nodded. “He was my doctor, I think. Been awhile since I’ve seen him.”

Andrea stood and patted her sister on the shoulder. “Sis, I got to get going.”
Bethany looked sad. “You’re not going to leave me, too, are you?”
Andrea stood in silence, looking at her little sister and smiled. “Of course not.”

Zacharia sat in the car, staring at the lighted clock on the dashboard. The numbers slowly ticked closer to eleven. The parking garage was quite, and only a few dim lights hung from the ceiling. He sighed, looking at the gun laying on the seat next to him.

The clocked flashed a new number as headlights filled the darkened garage. He couldn’t see the driver, but knew instinctively who it must have been.

He picked up the gun from beside him and slipped out of the car. Slowly the other car came to a stop, and he heard the motor stop, and saw the headlights shut off. A figure got out of the car. Zacharia saw Andrea Daveys step into the light.

Slowly he stepped from the shadows as well.

“Detective…” he said, softly.

She froze and turned to look at Zacharia. “M-Mister Kirkland.” Fear filled her eyes.
He moved closer, making sure the gun could obviously be seen. “I’m sorry…” he said.
“You don’t have to do this.” She reposnded.

“I…I can’t…stop…” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I did the right thing. Kirkland was a bad person…”

“I know…” she said softly. “What he did to your daughter was wrong…”

Zacharia laughed. “And your sister.” He smiled, seeing her eyes widen. “I wanted to make sure, when I heard your name. You’re Bethany’s sister. You’re father was innocent of the crime he took to his grave…”

She didn’t say anything, just stood there.

“You’re going to kill me?” she asked.

“I…” he looked at her. “I have to.”

She took a deep breath. “Do you?”

Zacharia waved the gun. “I can’t stop now. So many left.”

“I did research on you too.” She said, softly. “I went to the hospital where you worked. Six men died, during your operations. Did you kill them all?”

Zacharia smiled softly. “I did. I remember the first one. I read about him in the paper. Killed his wife, and her lover. Got off on a technicality.” He laughed softly. “And I gave him the justice he deserved.”

“You murdered him.”

Zacharia growled. “I did what was needed. I did the right thing.”

“The right thing?” she said softly, and looked at him. “Fine.” Detective Daveys stood straighter and nodded. “If killing me is the right thing. Do it.” She closed her eyes and waited.

Zacharia raised the gun, and pointed it at her. His hand started to shake. He couldn’t do it. Something was holding him back. “NO!” he cried, and screwed his eyes shut, and pulled the trigger.

October 28, 2008

Pool (or not so much)

A long time ago, i was a number cruncher, and did things, like setting up a pool for the primary elections.

Well, now I'm going to set up a pool for The election, just a week from now, and set it up for those who want to see if they're as good as the experts.

Now, visit 538 or Pollster or RCP or whatever site you prefer.

Place your "bets"
Who wins popular vote? by what margin? Obama or McCain.
Who wins each state? by what margins? Obama or McCain.

Thank you.

Coin (Previously Zacharia) Opening

Coin opening (plus a little more). (could be considered Zacharia 3.2)

Andrea Daveys stood in the back of the gas station convenience store, staring at the container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. The door to the freezer hung open before her, but the cold didn’t really bother her. She frowned, turning the frozen treat around in her hand, not really reading the information, just thinking. She hated ice cream. It had memories of her father that she couldn’t shake off. Gently she tossed it into the air, and catching it. She repeated this, still lost in her thoughts. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her sister.

She pushed the freezer door shut and made her way through one of the few isle in the store. The door opened to the store, with a faint beep. Andrea looked up and saw a young man wearing a jacket, his hands buried in the jacket’s pockets. She shook her head and looked to her left, seeing the row of candy. For a moment she wondered if a chocolate bar would be enough for her sister, instead of the ice cream. She sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be fair.

After a moment she gets behind the young man standing at the counter, buying cigarettes from the owner. Her cell phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. She didn’t bother go for it. The buzz was an alarm, set for 9:45pm. Her favorite show would be on in fifteen minutes. She watched as the owner moved slowly around behind the counter, getting the cigarettes. Moving the ice cream from her right hand, to her left, to relieve the cold, she groaned.

Time slowed as the young man pulled something from his right pocket. Andrea saw the gun in his hand as it moved to point at the owner. She felt her heart race, pounding hard against her ribs. Her eyes focused on the gun.

Her fingers went numb, and she dropped the ice cream. It hit the tile hard, breaking the cheap plastic seal, and sending the insides in all directions. She felt the cold splash against her leg, instantly knowing the man in front of her would have felt the ice cream as well.

He did. He turned to her. First his eyes, looking down in surprise, then, up at her. She reacted, instantly. Her right hand reached out and grabbed the young man’s hand. She followed with her left elbow, just below the man’s ribs.

The gun didn’t fire. She felt the man’s grip of the gun loosen, and she quickly grabbed for the barrel, preventing it from falling to the ground. The man himself stumbled backwards and fell onto his back, gasping for breath.

Andrea smiled slightly, feeling as if she did some good, before looking to the owner. He still looked frightened. “Don’t worry, I’m a cop.” She put the gun onto the counter. “And he should be just fine, just knocked the wind from him.”

The owner didn’t move.

She blinked and nodded. “I tell ya what. I’ll go to my car, I’ve got a radio, I’ll call this in. Afterwards, I’ll come back, and help you clean up the mess.” She smiled, trying reassure the man.

Andrea quickly left the store, and went to her car, parked near-by. She laughed softly, proud of herself. Not that she hadn’t taken down crooks before, it always felt good, slamming and elbow or knee into a bad guy. It also never usually goes down this simple. Sure, the ice cream was lost, and she’d have make something up to her sister, but that wasn’t going to bring her down.

She opened the driver’s door and reached in for the hand-set sitting on the middle of her dash. “This is Detective Daveys. There has been an attempted robbery. Suspect has been apprehended, could you please send back up. I’m at a gas station at the corner of Wilkens and Uni-” A loud bang cut her off. Her finger slipped off the button on the radio.

“Detective Daveys! What is going on?” the voice of the dispatcher over the radio came through.

“I don’t know…” She trailed off. Two more bangs came in quick succession.

Andrea dropped the radio and ran quickly to the front of the store. Just inside the glass doors, she saw the owner standing over the would-be-robber. Blood had splattered onto his shoes, and the bottom of his pants. He held the gun, pointed down, a gently stream of smoke coming from the barrel.



Zacharia placed the briefcase on the night stand. He slowly released the latches, doing his best not to make a sound. He smiled softly, looking to the sleeping man on the bed. He grimaced, and pulled a revolver from the briefcase, and gently resting it on the stand. Then, he took out a long thin cloth. Carefully he lifted the sleeping man’s head, and wrapping it around his head, creating a gag.

He released the man’s head, letting it fall back onto the pillow. A groan came from the sleeping man. Zacharia smiled slightly, taking a tape recorder from the case, and laying it by the revolver. The man let out a muffled cry beside him, and started to try and crawl away.

“Mr. Harper…” he said, his voice softy, but a haunting quality. Harper stopped, and turned to look at his attacker. Zacharia motioned to the revolver. “I could fire this before you had a chance to get to a window or door…” he paused, shaking his head. “I never miss…” he smiled. The gun was empty, but Harper didn’t need to know that.

Harper sat at the edge of the bed. Zacharia picked up a small case, as well as the tape recorder. He pressed the record button and smiled. “Now, Mr. Harper…” He smiled, watching Harper squirm on the bed. He placed the recorder on the bed and laughed softly.

Zacharia may have looked old, but he was still strong, stronger than the even older man sitting before him. He pushed Harper, making him fall back, and his feet to go into the air. He grabbed Harper’s right ankle, keeping it in the air. Zacharia used his free hand to pop open the case, revealing a scalpel resting on velvet.

He was good with his hands, and easily maneuvered the case in his hand, and took the scalpel, and let the case itself fall to the floor. “Well, now…Lets keep things simple...” In a quick swipe he cut the Achilles tendon Harper’s right foot. “That should keep you here...” He let go of the foot, hearing Harper cry out in muffled pain.

“Now…where to begin…” He picked up the tape recorder and looked at the small microphone build into the device. “Becky Daveys…” His mind went back over the research he had done before his arrival. “You were her pediatrician. At the age of twelve, she was found, alone in her home, tied up, molested…” he paused for a moment, remembering the data. “Her father was suppose to be watching her. Several days later, he was found dead, hung himself, in motel room. Becky currently resides in a mental institution, her mind…broken. She thinks she’s still 12. Stuck at that age for all her life…”

Zacharia paced the room, thinking, his mind lost for a moment. He looked to Harper. “You know who I’m talking about…” He smiled slightly. “How about Helen Kirkland?” He nodded. “Ten. Again, home alone, and the same treatment. No charges were filed. But her mother blamed her father. She left him. His grief ate away at him. Years later, he was left alone, his job gone. He was gone then…” He paused for a moment and walked over to Harper’s head.

“You know who I’m talking about?” He laid the recorder on the bed and leaned over, and pushed off the gag. “Well?”

“HELP!” Harper cried. In an instant, Zacharia slashes the scalpel across his face.

“DO YOU!” Zacharia hissed.

“YES!” he cried, tears welling up.

“You did that to those girls.” Zacharia’s hand tightened on the scalpel.

“Yes, I did! I’m sorry. Don’t kill me!”

Zacharia nods slightly. “I’m done.” He shook his head, looking at Harper. “I’m sorry it had to go this way…” He gave a quick swipe and slashed Harper’s throat, cutting it deep, causing a spray of blood.

Random Puns

Instead of doing the pop quiz this week, i think I'll slow it down and talk about random, and the source of the puns.

A long time ago, when I was much younger, i went by the handle Fighter for all. Different site, it went with my first yahoo email. As i grew, i distance myself from this handle, and really, it was bulky.

Along comes a radio show, and it's lovely live blog, which i used to go on, and make the same kind of ass out of myself i do here. I don't do that much, since when i was doing mock trolling, everyone hated me and didn't get the joke.

But back to the story. There i struggled to come up with a handle. I went by a few names, and even my own (in fl) to discuss the Florida bail out in the democratic primary. I finally settled on Random. A name that would allow me to do just about anything and defend it. I could say random shit, and do random shit, and everyone would just ignore it, or laugh. I could be the court jester, if you will.

From there, i joined 4F, and kept that up, even though i think i'm only kept around cause i'm young and they can tolerate my idiocy because of that. That aside...Not much else to say. It became who i am on here, and now, i keep it going. And it won't stop.

And why do I do the puns? well, that started with just posting things like "Random Comment" And grew.

October 27, 2008

Random Buttons

Since I'm a little afraid my previous post will be seen a bit to literally.
(I was doing satire)

So I'm going to post what i've seen as buttons. (and bought a few, i like buttons).

McCain buttons:
Blue voter voting Red
Super Mac (image of McCain to look like Superman)
Obama spread: I can't believe it's not earned (think I can't believe it's butter, and add the spread the wealth thing.)
You had me at Hero (Gag. Image of John in a flight suit, a youngin')
Martin Luther King was a Republican. (Now, Don't know if it means the civil rights leader or his father. But i think that is CLEARLY designed to get black voters.)
That's not a Tax Plan, that's Welfare. (picture of Obama. RACIST!)

Obama Buttons:
Hope is in the air. (Denver Convention)
Florida for Obama. (Obviously)



Notice a difference between the two? Besides the fact you can't find a lot of variety with Obama Buttons.

Random Conspiracy

How the Jews, Women, Blacks, liberals, Illegals, and Asians are stealing the election for Barack Obama.

Gather round all you lovely people, while i tell you how the election is being stolen. First, the illegals take our jobs, so we can't pay for mortages. Then the blacks take all those low cheap loans, forcing us to take those adjustable loan thingies invented by the jews who want to take all our money. Then the Jews increase our rates, making us loose our houses, and making it impossible for us to vote cause we don't got no homes, and homeless can't vote.

Also, the Jews incontrol of the wall street make it collaps, and the asians across the seas make their wall streets collapse. This makes everyone think George Bush is a bad economic guy even though he cut taxes for everyone.

As if that wasn't enough, the womens force one onto my hero John McCain, and make him look like a pansy whipped bitch. I can't vote for a woman.

And of course, Finally, the liberals are stealing our vote with acorns, and making it impossible for real 'Mericans from voting.

All of this means Liberal Terrorist Muslin, Barack HUSSANE Obama will win.

October 25, 2008

Why Third Party Candidates suck!

Random's Thesis statement why Third Party Candidates should just crawl into a hole and DIE!

How many people here can name the last Time a "Third" Party candidate one the office of the Presidency? Well, Abraham Lincoln of the very young Republican Party. It was easier back then, you could go from town to town and talk with the people, show them your message.

Now, since so many people rely on the media, or other sources of information to learn about candidates and news on the candidates, it becomes harder to get your message out. Those Bat shit insane people who got enough signatures to be on the ballot will spend 6 weeks to 6 months bitching and moaning about how they can't get on debates, or get any media coverage. I mean, these people actually think that if people saw them up against the two "Main" parties, they'd win.

Ralph Nader is a perfect example. Everyone remembers him, right? The one who took votes from Gore so Bush could win? Well, Egotist Nader is running for President, once again. Again bitching how he can't get on the debates, never realizing he sounds like he's batshit insane. Also, he thinks the people would love him, despite most know him as one of the reasons we're in this hell hole of the last eight years.

So, back away from my rant on Nader, and Third Party candidates being insane. They complain about not being able to pull themselves up by their bootstraps and make it to presidency. Their supporters are just as freakish and annoying.
Here's an example:
So, Connecticut joins Maine, West Virginia, Oklahoma, and Louisiana as states that would rather perpetuate the two-party system, instead of allowing free and fair elections.

This is a response to a federal judge saying you can't force yourself onto a ballot. That seems to make sense to me, seems you should file everything properly and go by the rules, instead of demanding entitlement. But I am just a humble observer.

You want my solution to the bitching in moaning of these people? start small, build your party up. Get a grass roots thing going. Have the party win county or state seats, have them become known to the people. (who'd of thunk it, that maybe you should be known to the people, not the media, huh?) then move a little higher, get a house seat or two, in a state that knows your party, likes your party. Show you're not just the same as the two parties in power. Then slowly infect the states around it, move out, get your brand out there. Note, this will take years, and decades, but hey, maybe it'll be more productive then bitching and moaning about the media.

Then you, the third party wanna be president. Get YOUR face out there, 4+ years before you plan to run. become a congressman, or a governor. Appear on the talking heads, on Fox, MSNBC, CNN, CBS, ABC, others i've forgotten. The people will start to know who you are, recognize you, like you. Than, you come out as the Alternative to whoever's running. Hopefully in a year where it's a lesser of two evils kind of thing. (if you were smart, you'd have started all this in the mid nineties, and by the time of 2004, you might just be in the White House).

But...The third parties aren't that smart. They believe in trickle down politics. They believe in jumping on top of the building, instead of building a ladder.

That is why i hate Third Parties, and why every time i hear one of their supporters, or the candidates themselves bitch and moan. They complain about it not being fair, but don't try and change the system, or even think of different ways to do things. They just sit, and moan, and think anyone who doesn't believe in what they're doing are perpetuating an injustice.

In the end, Third Parties don't have the drive, or the balls to change anything. They just want attention. They want people to look at them. It's sad. And i beg of everyone, until a third party changes it's way of thinking, or it's strategy to the white house, don't pay attention. Maybe they'll learn

October 22, 2008

Zacharia (2.0)

Warning: Currently a second rewrite of a story posted within the last 12 hours, please read this version. Same warning applies, graphic content, weird shit, and general fucked-upness


Zacharia Kirkland slowly moved along the fragmented stone walkway. Each step made a soft click from the hard rubber sole of his shoes. He reached the double doors leading into the home. The doors themselves were more ornamental than practical, each adorned with large windows, with colored opaque glass. Gently he shifted his wait and passed the case from his right hand to his left.
He felt his hands start to sweat in the rubber gloves as he reached forward and slowly turned the doorknob. A soft click came from inside the door and Zacharia pushed the door open.
To his right, the passage led to the living room. It had a large ornamental rug, and two large chairs that faced towards a fire place. A couch sat against the far wall, with a large painting above it. He turned his head to the passage towards him that passed by an alcove containing a bookshelf.
Zacharia carefully stepped along the tile, doing his best not to make noise. He made his way through the maze of furniture and excess to reach a back bedroom. The door pushed open silently and a large bed sat in the middle of the room with a man sleeping on his back.
He moved to a nightstand and carefully removed the things on top of the stand, before laying down the case. He lifted the latches, taking his time, making as little noise as possible.
First he removed a small pistol. It wasn’t loaded, but it didn’t need to be. Than he removed a small pack of extra long zip ties, followed by a long piece of cloth. Finally an even smaller case, made of wood and initials carved into it.
Zacharia looked over to the sleeping man and sighed softly. He scanned the room, looking for the best advantage. He gently picked up the cloth from the nightstand and stood over the sleeping man. With his free hand he reached forward and opened the man’s mouth, than lifting his hand, so he could wrap the cloth around the sleeping man’s head, creating a gag.
He left the man’s head go. A soft grunt came from the man, but he didn’t wake up. Zacharia stood over him for a moment before bringing his hand up and backhanding the man. A muffled cry came as he woke up startled by the sudden attack.
“Good…” Zacharia said softly. The man tried to move away, scrambling across the bed. “I wouldn’t…” He gestured to the gun on the table passively, making sure the man saw it. “I think I could fire a shot before you’d get to a door or window.”
The man stopped moving, his eyes locked on Zacharia, tears starting to form. Zacharia just nodded and picked up the package of zip ties and the gun, walking over to the side of the bed the man had scrambled to.
“Arms out front…” Zacharia said. After a moment the man didn’t comply. “Do as I say, or you will die.” His arms sprung forward. Zacharia put the pack to his mouth and gently pulled the zip tie out of it using his teeth. He tossed the package aside and slowly wrapped the tie around the man’s wrists.
“Alright.” He pushes the man back down onto the bed. “This won’t take long.” Zacharia laid down the gun and walks over to pick up the small engraved box. He runs his thumb along the crack along the side. With a gentle push the box opened, exposing scalpels of varying sizes. He pulls one of the larger ones out, stopping at the feet of the man.
He looked at the man, twirling the scalpel between his fingers. “I’m sorry I can’t make this quick.” With a sift movement he slams the scalpel into the man’s leg above his ankle. A muffled pained cry came from the man. “But…” Zacharia pulled another scalpel out and slammed it into the other leg. “You don’t deserve that luxury.” The man laid on the bed, tears streaming down his face.
He sets the case down next to the immobilized man. “Now…Where to begin…” He slowly pulled a third scalpel from the case, and stared at the man. “Well, first…” He grabbed the bottom of the man’s shirt, and ran the blade along it, flicking it up as it got to the collar, slicing into the man’s chin. “Sorry…” Zacharia said, not really caring about the wound, as he tore away the shirt.
“So…Shall we begin?” He leaned over the man and held the steel instrument like a pen. “We’ll begin with…” he made three quick slashes, forming an ‘B’ on the man’s chest, “Bethany.” Zacharia slowly cut into the man’s flesh, forming out the name, talking. “You know what happened to her? Ran away from home at age sixteen. Went to jail three times before she was twenty. Killed last week by her pimp.” He looked up from the shallow wounds forming her name. “Ten years after you had your fun with her…”
Zacharia looked over the man’s body. “Then there was…” He again made three quick slashes on the man’s stomach, making a ‘Z’. He laughs softly to himself. “I always wanted to do that…” he looked back at the man. “Zoe.” He repeated the process as before, talking slowly. “The police accused her father, and he went to jail. She currently resides in a mental institution.” He let the blade travel a little longer and deeper at the end of the ‘e’. “She is seventeen, eight years after she knew you…”
Zacharia looked at the scalpel and gently wiped the blood off of it with his shirt. “Just one more…And I know you remember her.” He moved the scalpel to the man’s inner thigh. Carefully, and deeply, he started to carve the letters into his skin. First a ‘J’, than an ‘e’. “Jessica…” he said softly. “You killed her…And her mother killed herself.” He felt his hand tighten on the tool. “You bastard.” He cried and slammed the blade down onto the man’s crotch, unsure of where exactly where it landed, but heard a new louder cry of pain from the man.
His hand trembled as he let go of the scalpel imbedded in the man. “I-I’m sorry…” He said, slowing his breathing down. “I lost my cool.” Zacharia looked at his own watch. “It’s getting late…” he said, reaching down and pulling out the scalpels from his legs. He picked up the gun and pointed it at the man, seeing the fear in his eyes. Zacharia pulls the trigger. The man cries out as the gun gives out a soft click. “It’s not loaded…” He laughs softly and walks over to his case, looking down at the man. “I’d suggest getting those wounds looked at, some of them look pretty serious.” He took one of the bloody scalpels and slashed it across the man’s throat, cutting deep.
He puts away his things and closes the case. “Goodbye…” he says softly and leaves the man bleeding to death.

Zacharia reached the front door and saw a blonde haired woman standing in it’s opening. He slowed his steps, looking her over quickly. She wore blue jeans an a white shirt. She smiled at him.
“How did it go?” she asked.
He stopped. “Did you drug him Janice?”
“No…” she said, stepping outside. “He’s just a heavy sleeper.”
Zacharia shook his head, following her. “I’m not sure he even understand what was going on, only felt the pain…”
Janice stopped and turned to look at him. “Isn’t that the point?”
“No…” he stepped passed her, walking to the sidewalk. “This is justice, they must know their sins.”
“Good.” She laughed softly, following him. “Now, go home, get some rest.”

The next day came and Zacharia sat at the edge of his bed, in the small one bedroom apartment, staring at his left inner forearm. The radio was on, and playing some inane pointless soft rock. He gently picked up the scalpel beside him and carved a random design into the skin, before filling it with the name Joseph Harper. He stared down at the blood covered skin.
“That’s pretty sick.” A voice from the behind him on the bed.
He looked over his shoulder at Janice. “That doesn’t matter…”
She sighed and sat herself up. “You’re doing the right thing.”
Zacharia looks down at his arm. “I know…”
The radio started to crack with the top of the hour news update. “Hospital director Joseph Harper was found dead in his home. Witness reports have a man leaving her home about four in the morning. Police are keeping a lot of details under wraps, but sources say they have a suspect.”
Zacharia looked back at Janice. “Do you think they know?”
Janice shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” She smiled. “You won’t be caught.”
Someone knocked at his front door. He walked over and opened the door, seeing a woman, in her early thirties, on the other side. “Hello, ma’am.”
“Are you Zacharia Kirkland?”
“I am…” He frowned. He didn’t recognize the woman as a tenant.
“Is something wrong?”
“Have you been in contact with a Mr. Joseph Harper?”
“Yes…He had a job opening at his hospital…”
“Did you go see him last night?” She asked.
“Look, who are you? What is this about?” Zacharia felt his fists clench.
“I am Detective Andrea Daveys. Mr. Harper was killed in his home last night.”
Zacharia’s hand tightened on the cheap wooden door.
“Where you at Mr. Harper’s residence last night?” She asked again
“No…” He said.
“You were a surgeon, weren’t you?” She asked.
“I was. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Your daughter, her name was Jessica, correct?”
His felt his finger nails dig into his palm. “What is this about?”
She smiled softly. “Just checking on a few facts.” She bowed her head slightly. “I’ll leave you be for now.” He watched her walk away from the door. Zacharia slammed the door shut, making the room shake.
He turned his head to see Janice in the doorway. She frowned. “She knows…”
Zacharia nodded.
“She’ll need to be taken care of.”
“I can’t.” He said.
“It has to be done.”
“She’s not a bad person…” He stood, staring over the empty room.
Janice grabbed his shoulder, turning him to her. “Look, I know what I’m talking about. Who told you how to kill the lawyer, and make it look like a surgical accident?”
“You did…”
“That’s right, you’ve got to trust me. I know what is best.”
Zacharia didn’t say anything, he just looked to the ground.
“Think of it this way. She’s stopping you from getting the bad men. That makes her a bad person.”
“I…I…guess…” He said.
“You guess? It’s true. She’s stopping you from doing the right thing.”
“You’re right…”
“Good…Now, you’re going to have to do everything I say, understand.”
He nodded and looked up at her. “Yes.”

Andrea sighed, walking across the vacant parking lot of the police station. It was well passed midnight, she had spent most of her time doing research on her case. She reached her car and stuck her hands into her pockets for her keys.
“Miss Daveys…” a voice came from behind her.
She spun around and saw Zacharia standing about a dozen feet behind her. “Mr. Kirkland.”
“You shouldn’t have come looking for me…” he said softly.
It was then she noticed the gun in his hand. “Oh lord…” she felt like kicking herself for forgetting her side-arm at her desk. “Now…calm down…” she said.
“He was a bad man…” Zacharia said, taking a step forward. “He deserved what he got.”
“I know…” she said. “I read the case file…He killed her daughter and went to trail.”
“He got off!” He cried. “The bastard lawyer of his got him off!”
She stared at him as he started to laugh softly.
“But the lawyer got what was coming to him. It was lucky me. Half a year after the trail, he was under my knife, under my will.” He laughed.
“You killed him…” she said.
Zacharia laughed. “I did! And dozens more. One after another. One bad man after another. Each came under my knife.”
“That’s why you were discharged a year ago…”
“No!” He laughed even harder. “They felt bad for me. They thought I had the worst luck in the world, after the death of my daughter, my wife, and then having so many patients go south. They never thought I killed them.”
Andrea stood and nodded slightly. “I understand…” she said.
He took another step forward. “You can’t possible understand!”
She didn’t respond.
He started to cry. “Why did you have to come…”
“I…” she said softly, watching him.
“Why…Why…Why…” he said, tears now obscuring his vision.
“Zacharia, put the gun down. Is this what Janice would want?”
“Shut UP! You aren’t my WIFE!” He cried, putting his hands to his temples, as if trying to block something out.
“I never said I-”
“You aren’t her! She wouldn’t have me do this.”
“I don’t understand.” She said, watching Zacharia.
“Stop YELLING! Why don’t you just leave me alone!”
“What?”
“I can’t do it…” he said, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t kill her. She’s not a bad person…”
“Mr. Kirkland.”
“Stay back!” he yelled, waving his hand that held the gun. “Stay back!”
“Okay…” she said, backing a few steps away.
“Please just leave me alone!”
“I can’t do that.” Andrea said.
Zacharia laughed. “Ha…I get it…” He gently pressed the barrel of the gun to his temple. “You’ll never leave…never…”
“NO!” Andrea cried, leaping forward.
A shot fired.
Zacharia fell to the ground, a gentle stream of blood coming from the hole in the side of his head. “Oh My God.” She dropped to her knees, felt his wrist in a vain attempt to find life. “No…No…No…” Andrea kneeled over the dead man, unable to save a life.

October 21, 2008

Cheers and Smears

For all who gather round, I've got a story about Birth Certificates, and Citizenship.

A few people may have told you that Barack Obama isn't a citizen, we won't release his Birth Certificate, or even some of the more lovely ones, that he BC was made 4 days after his birth (number could be a little off).
Reasons not to believe it:
1.) These are the same assholes that send you that Obama is a Muslim, despite growing up atheist and joining a christian church later in life. They also say the weird shit like Obama is the anti-christ, which is false becuase if he was, NO ONE would accuse him of being the Anti-christ. That and It would be part of gods plan and the holy order and who the fuck are all you people to go against the holy order

2.) He has reliesed his BC (I am not gonna type it out every time, I have problems spelling). It's been verified, get over it.

3.) If he wasn't a naturalized citizen, he wouldn't be allowed to run. the FBI, Secret Service, even the CIA would know by now, and run him out of the race. Unless you think the FBI, Secret Service, and the CIA are in the bag for Obama?

4.) Obama is not going to Hawaii to visit an ill mother, and it will take time for say...preperation to Hawaii, like Secret Serivce to go and lock the place down. And if you've ever flown before, you know it takes 6-8 hours to get across the country, image how long to fly half way across the pacific.

5.) McCain could also be techinically not allowed to run either, being born in the Panama Canal Zone three years before it was made into a place where if you were born there you were a citizen. I don't see anyone crying out for his head. I'm not crying out for his head. So what the hell.

P.S. Obama. Is. Not. A. Muslim.
P.P.S. Obama. Is. Not. The. Anti-Christ.
P.P.P.S. Obama. Will. Not. Enslave. White. People.
P.P.P.P.S. Obama. Did. Not. Say. "Where. The. White. Women. At?".

Pop Quiz #2

Hello, and welcome again to this poptastic quiz. Where we test your knowledge...and lack of life, of what has happened in this blog...along with some weird trivia that you just can't find any where else.

So, with out futher ado (heh...ado) I present to you my second Quiz.

1.) Name a Random Nut? (remember the pun...)

2.) Name a Senator from the State where the College I visited is in. (Not as hard as you may think)

3.) What Twilight Zone episode went with my rant?

4.) Who is the "idiotic brainless whelp"?



Only four this week...well, that's an improvement over last week, but I will defiantly be getting more next week, when I have more stuff during the week, than three posts about not having time to post stuff. And remember, winner gets a cookie.
Oh, and please answer the poll.

October 20, 2008

McCarthyism

This is a serious subject, something that we should all be paying attention too.

Now the original McCarthyism was started by Senator Joseph McCarthy, in the late 40's early 50's, during the high point of the "Red Scare". McCarthy would accuse people of being communist sympathizers, often destroying people's lives, and leaving some unable to work because of black lists, the most famous of course was the Hollywood Blacklist, which left many writers out of work.

So, where am i going with this? well A truly reprehensable congressman Michelle Bachmann over the weekend called for the media to do an indepth probe looking into "Un-American" people in congress. Why is this bad? Well, for the same reason McCarthyism was bad. It's Bullshit. It creates an environment of fear. For a real good look at what that would do, watch the classic Twillight Zone episode, "The Monsters are Due on Maple Street". (I really would reccomend watching Twillight Zone period, the original series, with Rod Serling)

Back to Bachmann. We have a woman in congress who wants to start a witch hunt. Accuse anyone and everyone who disagrees with her views as being a "witch" and basically "remove" them. This isn't what America should be, and by her very actions, she is the only one in Congress that would be "Un-American".

Warning, next few sentences are full of filth: Personal note, as part of blogger concete that Congresswoman Bachmann may actually read this...Fuck you. Stop spewing your hateful shit. It's unbecoming of an American, and especially of an American with power. Take your shit and go home you idiotic brainless whelp who will say or do anything to make yourself known.

On that note, I am going to make my only political endorsement on this blog. Please, Minnesota, Elect Elwyn Tinklenberg. I'll be honest, I don't know jack about Tinklenberg, but I refuse to allow anyone with the idiocy, and clear McCarthyism clone BS coming from her mouth, to be stay as a Congressman.

Please excuse the seriousness of this blog, but this is an important topic near and dear to my heart. I'll post what I was planning on posting later today. Trust me, It's much more light hearted, and fun.

October 19, 2008

uuuuggghhhh

Long two days I've hard...Long...LONG two days.

Sorry for not posting Saturday, but I was away from a computer. (well not really, just away from the available time.

I went out to *beep* to visit a wonderful semi-technical school called UAT (Univeristy of Advancing Technology)

It was my first time flying, so it was a little freaky. But I'm back alive, and I enjoyed the school very much.

I'll probably gush about it more later, but I'm a little off today, so I'll make this short. Love all my loyal fans.

October 16, 2008

Random College

Okay, Okay, this is All I've got to say today...or the night before, hopefully you'll all see this and thank you.
I'm heading off for A college called UAT, look it up.
I'm leaving in the morning, So I'm posting this the night before.

Love all my loyal followers...All one of you. :rimshot:

Good night and good luck.
Alright, Alright, I'm here I'm here...don't leave, please.

I'm a little late this morning, usually I prepare something the night before, but i didn't this time, I'm sorry.

uh...uh...Shit, can't think of anything.

Look, I'm really in a different plain right now, I've got a lot of things to do and worry about, I'm sorry. I'm heading out to a college tomorrow morning, and well, i've got to pack, get my hair cut, shave.

October 14, 2008

Random Nuts

A Random look at Voter...er...Registration Fraud

For those who had money that within three days I'd crack and discuss politics, guess what, YOU WON! Here's your cookie.

Today's Edition will discuss the Voter...I mean Registration Fraud of ACORN. That weird Scary orginatizations that may or may not be some how funnelling votes for Obama.

I can talk about a LOT of things that are wrong about accusations against ACORN. But I'm going to stay non-partison and not even discuss ACORN Obama connection, cause no matter what I say, I'd be in the tank for either candidate.

A little background info about ACORN. It sucks. It's crazy. It's a weird group that has little orginization. What ACORN does is take poor people, low income, that kind of group and say, "Get 25 signatures, we'll give you 25 bucks." So, those working with ACORN go out and get people to sign up...again and again...and again. Committing REGISTRATION Fraud. Note that, Registration, not Voter. Two entirely different things, though both obviously illegal.

ACORN doesn't have enough resources to commit Voter fraud, it barely has the resourses to track it's people going out and getting registrants, to keep fraud to a minimum. If you honestly think an inept group of people can pull of a massive Voter Fraud, you've been reading to many internet...blogs...Uh...D'OH.

Hm...That aside, ACORN did commit Fraud, not Voter Fraud, but Fraud. So don't worry you on the right, it's not the left trying to steal the election. And you on the Left, get your bloody act together, christ, this is really an embarassment.

That's all for Random Nuts. Come back next time for new Nuts.

Oh! P.S.

Yesterday's winners...well Raine (I do believe that's you, if not, come forward with a name next time) and mfhadley...Even though both cheated. GoodLuck next week.

October 13, 2008

Pop Quiz #1

Welcome to Random's first ever Pop Quiz.

That's right, every Tuesday I will be posting a Pop Quiz that will require not only you to read more than the first line of the blog, but also some basic understanding of the world around you. As well, please type the answer in your comment response, and whoever gets the highest grade will get props in my Wednesday (or Thursday, if things don't work the way i hope) blog, along with a cookie.

Three Questions this Week.

Question #1
What is the one and only blog this blog links to?

Question #2
Name the character I have chosen as my profile avatar...thing?

Question #3
What is the square root of 178929? (No calculators!)

Thank you.
Tune in next week and see If i have even more inane questions to ask of you.

Now that i think of it, if i say when the quizzes come, they really aren't Pop, are they...Eh...Screw it, Pop Quiz it stays.

Monday the 13th

I'm going to make it a personal mission to post a blog post every day, so when something does happen, I will actually post it instead of keeping it to myself. I suppose that'll mean I'll be copying my stories over here and saving them as drafts and releasing them incase of emergancies.

I suppose I could talk about politics, but i won't. Not that I don't like it, but I'd prefer to keep that kind of crap out of my complete and utter crap blog. This is my home to say all the random bullshit stuff I've found.

Oh, within the next few days I'll be posting the websites I go to often. Though...maybe not. Hm...Well, it's been a pleasure typing this, so try to read the entire thing, take note. This will be on the quiz, yes there will be a quiz. Good, Class dismissed.

October 11, 2008

Random Details

Hello again, it's pleasure talking again here, and I'm slowly getting comfortable with my profile here, and shaping what I'll talk about, and what I'll ramble on and on. Cause I'm sure everyone here cares about my day...right....right....Bueller...(Bad...joke)
for those who scroll down far enough will see I now have a picture up. Not to insult the intelligence of anyone who visits this lovely little corner of Random Bull, but I feel an explanation is in order. That is a picture of Himura Kenshin (Kenshin Himura for us westerners). Main character in the Manga, Rurouni Kenshin. Not sure how many of you viewing this blog look upon Manga or Anime, but Kenshin is one of my favorite characters. I would highly recommend picking up the first volume, you might like it. I'd go into it some, but really, i'm too lazy for that so... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rurouni_Kenshin

Hm...I was going somewhere, I kind of forgot. Oh, right. I am glad that I've gotten at least two visiters, maybe more, dunno if this place has a count where i can look. that aside, I've also added a blog link.

Well, that's all for now, Till next time, I might have something important to say.

Beginner's Luck

Welcome one and...well one.
I don't suppose I know what all I shall be doing with this blog, but I certainly feel it's worth experimenting. I suppose in the end I'll be posting my stories, along with just random crap. Funny pictures, rude jokes, or folksy anecdotes that leave you wondering what possible mental illness I may have.
That's all I really have to say for an opener, but It's nice of ya'll to join me here.