cautioninfrench.blogspot.com
&__mise.en.garde //: September 2007
http://cautioninfrench.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html
In the true sense of the word, I've grown ugly. Saturday, September 29, 2007. Whats the point of writing something, of taking all this time and effort to create something, that people never look and never appreciate? Wednesday, September 26, 2007. Like so many other things, it did not matter. This was her brief but bittersweet victory. I made an explicit effort to post this at 11:11 but I missed it. x x. Img src: ACLU/American Civil Liberties Union, 1920 - Present.). Wednesday, September 19, 2007. Xenos ...
cautioninfrench.blogspot.com
&__mise.en.garde //: Stories and Scripts: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
http://cautioninfrench.blogspot.com/2008/01/stories-and-scripts-midnight-in-garden.html
In the true sense of the word, I've grown ugly. Friday, January 25, 2008. Stories and Scripts: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. TITLE: AN EVENING IN MERCER HOUSE. Those chairs over there. (JIM gestures at the chairs in the left corner of the living room) The needlework on the covers is unraveling. New money would mend it right away. Old money would leave it as it is.' 'I know that,' I told him. Some of my best customers are old money.' (JIM laughs at his own joke). April 21, 2008 at 1:24 AM.
mcs-blog-wc.blogspot.com
MC's Blog: Panties… and Peaches???
http://mcs-blog-wc.blogspot.com/2007/12/panties-and-peaches.html
Thursday, December 20, 2007. Panties… and Peaches? It smelt worse than spoiled milk that had been on the countertop for weeks. The stench had spread throughout the vicinity. The detective sniffs the air, “BLAH! 8221; Do people from Seoul have a soul? How can anyone perform such a reprehensible act? The foul odour from the carcass remained to be pungent. When he was looking down at her he smelt something pleasant. How could anything that stunk that badly smell good? He was perplexed by this case as if som...
cautioninfrench.blogspot.com
&__mise.en.garde //: Memories of Murder: Six Feet Under
http://cautioninfrench.blogspot.com/2008/01/memories-of-murder.html
In the true sense of the word, I've grown ugly. Friday, January 25, 2008. Memories of Murder: Six Feet Under. They took him out to the shrubs where they could hide while doing such a dishonest deed. Being rather unintelligent, Kwang-Ho would obviously refrain from denying these allegations. They forced a shovel into his hands and told him to dig. Look at you." Detective Cho Yong-gu utters with disgust. "Hey bastard, give me that! Can't you eve hold a shovel right? You punk. Did you come here to play?
cautioninfrench.blogspot.com
&__mise.en.garde //: Vultures
http://cautioninfrench.blogspot.com/2007/11/vultures.html
In the true sense of the word, I've grown ugly. Friday, November 30, 2007. You all make me sick. You're disgusting plagues upon this earth, revolting enough to force a small animal run into oncoming traffic and do you know why? It's because you don't know how to read. Isn't that amusing? FluκεY т y я o. Perhaps their is a reason for their inability to read.can't really judge people if you don't know anything about them. January 18, 2008 at 9:05 AM. I'm right behind ya dayani! January 22, 2008 at 7:25 PM.
mcs-blog-wc.blogspot.com
MC's Blog: January 2008
http://mcs-blog-wc.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html
Thursday, January 17, 2008. The Worst Birthday Ever. 8211; wizard who just finished his first year from wizardry school and is spending the summer with the Dursley family and is getting treated like a prisoner. Uncle of Harry, owner of the household and isn’t afraid of showing that he is in control, owner of a company that sells drills. 8211; spoiled overfed brat who is the son of Vernon and Petunia. Act 1, Scene 1. Dursley family and Harry are eating breakfast in their kitchen). Dudley fell of his chair...
cautioninfrench.blogspot.com
&__mise.en.garde //: Guerilla Poetry: Dream
http://cautioninfrench.blogspot.com/2007/11/dream.html
In the true sense of the word, I've grown ugly. Tuesday, November 27, 2007. As I scrutinized the mirror. I didn't recognize the obscurity that. From the chipped and shallow glass. Screamed out at me. Eyes so obsidian-black they begged. From the now crackling mirror. To be torn from this hell. For some divine absolution. My fingers sprawled out. And clawed at this mirror. Shards of the grotesque glass. Splintered my brittle skin. The stranger before me simpers. Into some vicarious, vitriolic congeal.
cautioninfrench.blogspot.com
&__mise.en.garde //: ...
http://cautioninfrench.blogspot.com/2007/09/blog-post.html
In the true sense of the word, I've grown ugly. Saturday, September 29, 2007. Whats the point of writing something, of taking all this time and effort to create something, that people never look and never appreciate? How do you know nobody looks? Plus, maybe it's just supposed to be for us. Me, myself and I. September 29, 2007 at 9:48 PM. Because.you want a good mark in class? You never know who's looking. I'm lookin' right now =]. January 13, 2008 at 1:40 AM. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
