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Worldly Nonsense

Queen of the Damned

Don’t mess with Lestat de Liouncourt
Never underestimate the power of vampires,
They’re always looking for something to sink their teeth into…


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The Legend Of Super Banjo-Kazooie [August 11th, 2004 @ 6:21pm]

[ mood | artistic ]

The castle walls were sizzling hot reflections of the sun, and his back started to moisten. The wind was his air-conditioning. He rested his head on the wall and relaxed his sunken shoulders. A yawn creaped out. He could hear fits of laughter through the wooden doors. The bottle of scotch was his ownly friend now. Mario had given up on the princess.

As the laughter grew quiet, he started to nod off. Memories of long since past adventures of him and his brother saving the day were all that he clinged to for life. At that brink where you're not a sleep but almost falling into nothingness, he was startled by a horrible noise. He quickly flashed back awake. The double wooden doors burst open with a bolting princess.

She ran for her life, and frantically searched for her hero. Mario was too ashamed to speak up and help his beloved princess. Even though her very sight, gave him a happiness that he couldn't replace crossing a thousand earths. She ran further and further untill, eventually, she cought sight of her ex-rescuer Mario. He smiled with their eye-contact. As he started to stand, she was filled to the bloody brim, with swords and her backside burned to a crisp.

Mario's cheeck twitched as he watched in horror. Bowser stood behind her. His spikes washed with her fresh, blood. He snorted a laugh at Mario. The only one to ever defeat him. And now he was a slobbering drunk. Mario filled with anger. He couldn't believe that his princess was actually gone. She'd died because of him.

Mario stood up, it took him a good minute or two to balance. Bowser just watched him try. Mario hobbled over to his nemesis. His bottle of whisky clenched in his fist.

"What are you doing, you useless little shit?" Bowser chuckled, in his horrible deep voice. He just stood there as Mario approached. "You're a drunk. You'll always be just that."

Mario's face was getting red, and he was starting to shake as he kept walking.

"Just a useless, princess killing drunk." Bowser through his head back in a taunting laugh. Mario finally got as close as he'd needed.

He just kept a shaking still as Bowser watched his every move. "Go on, do something." Bowser kept still, as did Mario.

"Well do something, you little waste of space!" Bowser was growing tired of wait. Mario kept his stance.

"Goddamn it, If you don't say something, I'll burn you just like that bitch princess!" Bowser sucked in heavy hot gasps. Mario took a grin. "That's it, you're bar-b-cue!" Mario gripped his bottle.

Bowser charged his flaming attack as Mario watched. When Mario noticed the point he was about to be burned to a cinder, he launched his rum bottle. It smashed upon impact with Bowser's head. He released his mighty flame trying to hold it back. His head became ingulfed with flame. Mario grabbed his princess's hand and pulled her away from the massacre.

Mario whispered to her, "I'ma so sorry, Princess. It'sa all mya fault. I promise I'lla take you away. I've heard stories ofa a man. A man who can bring back life. I'ma so so sorry, Peach." Mario carried her across fields and valleys.

Damn yourself

Flowers [August 10th, 2004 @ 6:14pm]

[ mood | jubilant ]

Life is like a flower
Opening up to see
Each petal holds a memory
Dreams of you and me
As colorful as a petal
Or Dismal pictured fears
I have lighted smiles, I have stains of tears
As strong as a hand
Reaching up to help
Always feeling to be delt
As smart as advie
We can always use
Patterns to be laid
Smiles lead to you


Damn yourself

[August 9th, 2004 @ 7:10pm]

[ mood | tired/curious ]

How did you hear about us: My girlfriend Katelyn made this site.
Your Name: Jeremy Tischer
Age: 14
Location: Seminole, Florida

Sample of writing(ex. a poem,short story or song lyrics):

Lestat took the man's face and swayed his hands infront of his eyes. The man felt cold and afraid. "I can show you a world where you're never alone." The man followed him. Lestat peeked to him from time to time. The man looked as if he shouldn't have been there. Lestat read his thoughts and quickly reasured him. Lestat knowing alone, was enough. Lestat seated him nestled in the lap of a scuplture of an angel. The rest of the graves were just unfitting. "Are you ready, for the gift, that can forever give?"

Lestat turned his head and bent over, kneeling on one knee. "Wait! I change my mi-" The man was stopped by Lestat's fangs. He quivered and trembled as the blood swam from body to body. When he was done, Lestat could here something a little extra. He notched his head to the man's breast pocket. He peeled open his vest, as the man lay there slipping further and further into total darkness. Lestat pulled open the pocket, and smiled off a look of disgust.

"A microphone, who are you? A James Bond? Or some other hero?" Lestat whispered in a giggle. He held the receaver to his ear. "I hope you don't mind." The man lay there silent.

"Wilson, have you apprehended him yet? Wilson...Wislon?" Lestat's face turned curious. He rose an eyebrow and half-smiled at his undercover friend.

The man watched with glass eyes. "Hold on chief, he's turning cold." Lestat lowered the microphone, to his side and smiled at his friend. He pulled a C.D. player out of his pocket. He smiled a real smile, and caughed a laugh. "I'm runnin' down a dream." He started swaying and singing. He pulled a bottle from the littered ground, and smashed it over the Man's right shoulder. Using the broken edges, he slashed away his message.

He pulled the microphone back to his smiling lips. "Wilson, is no more. But do feel free to come and find my fingerprints. I picked up a bottle, if you want to check it. I've got a concert." He lifted into the air and was out of sight within a second.

What inspired what you just wrote: I love Anne Rice novels, and I love Vampires. So I guess, I just think that kind of writing is most interesting.

Favorite Color: Red
When did you start writing: I guess around sixth grade.
Favorite Music/artists: Nirvana, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Offspring
Favorite Author: Anne Rice

At least one picture of yourself: Picture of MyselfCollapse ) 
1 // Damn yourself

The Beginning [August 8th, 2004 @ 10:02pm]

[ mood | anxious ]

Well this marks it all. Welcome to Worldly Nonsense. Each week I will post who is accepted and we'll go on from there...

Once again i'm Kate and welcome....


Damn yourself

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