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| Mature readers please.....? Hello. I know this deacon and was wondering what you think. I am Episcopalian. He is homosexual and lives with his partner. He seems like he is more interested in fellowship than serbice. Like when i used to have conversations with him, he would name drop who he had been to lunch with or tell people it was fun the other day right in front of me knowing I had not been invited. I served in the chutch for years every Sunday and special service. I eventually quit when they complained yo much and then turned around and asked me to do a lot of work. He hasnt even sponken to me in 3.5 years after i told him how hurt i was about the way he treated me even tho i continued to volunteer another two years. I was googling my church for info and came across his blog. I simply cannot believe the stuff he has put in there. I wish i could post a link but it has his pic in their and that would not be right. But he talks about how he and his partner were in disney world and "sodomy" occured between the two of them. How he emailed a guy he used to have sex with and felt good because he emailed him backing asking werent you the one with the "big hose". He said he was glad at least one of his partners enjoyed having sex with him. I thought pre-marital esp. With multiple people in a life time was wrong. There is other stuff in their too like his last post:An old farmer went to auction and picked up a fine rooster and hen. He also picked up a young donkey. Now, as he was headed home, the donkey started to act up. Well, he knew that he could get the donkey to calm down if he gave the fellow's ears a scratch. Unfortunately, his hands were full of chicken. Approaching a farmwife nearby, he asked for her help. "Pardon me, ma'am. Can you hold my cock and pullet while I scratch my ***?" i just cannot belive it. I am so hurt and my mistrust of the church has grown greater. Do you think i am making a big deal out of nothing. Everyone at the church loves him because he sucks up to everyone but me and a few others. I go to a predomiately upper middle-class, upper class white church and i far from either if those. Whilr someone are cool, a lot of others treat me *differently*. Oh, btw i am a 22 year old female. |
| "By their fruits you shall know them". |
| Rough Insults Needed? okay I am on a website and some idiot was talking to me about how I wouldn't know what to do with vaginas, which is really dumb considering I'm not a virgin and then it broke into an endless argument I tried ending it, but then he said " then go suck cock" I would have left the room but I am trying to record a comedy there, for those of you wondering the best insults for him, here is the type of person he apparently is: When he's insulted, he says something about the insult told to him e.g (Me: You have an IQ of 1, you're grunting and brainstorming to make it 2 Him: You mean like how you're grunting? sure...) He doesn't like *just dropping it* He things Yo Momma insults are "kinky" I know trying to insult him is really immature , but honestly I was trying to be the mature one and ending it, so now I need an INSULT that will end it. |
| Just laugh in his face. He sounds like he's 14. |
| How good is this? Could you review it for me? Thanks!? It was inspired by the video for ET by Katy Perry. The video is practically an hallucinogenic, so it's no wonder I ended up writing. Also on FF.net: www.fanfiction.net/s/6865614/1/Ex… By day I studied; chemistry, mathematics, physics, working as hard as every other boy in my class, striving for perfection. I wasn't falling behind, not by far, but I felt guilty. I wasn't at the top. And the reason for it was because I didn't spend my nights as my father intended. Instead of studying in the early hours, as I had been taught to by my father, I crept through the silent corridors and across the cold floors in bare feet to the piano room. The piano was beautiful. It was old; not so old it no longer functioned properly, but old enough to have a matured quality of sound, the kind of sound you only hear from really esteemed concert pianos in great opera houses. I was lucky my school had one – but then, it was to be expected. It was a historic school, and we had only the best. I opened the French windows a crack in a small ritual I observed. I wasn't sure why, I just felt compelled to let the moonlight in. I sat at the cushioned bench, running my fingers over the ivory keys. Moonlight glinted through the French windows, reflected in the meticulously polished case lid. A faint breeze blew in. It smelled like old wood and polish and time. I pressed the keys down in a chord, and the wind picked up. My dark hair fluttered about my head, my silk pyjamas wrapping delicately around my ankles. The sound resonated through the room and through my bones. I moved my fingers, playing a piece I'd known for so long it felt natural to play. I shut my eyes, revelling in the cool wind and the familiarity of the piece. The door creaked, and my head shot towards it in surprise, though my hands never ceased from playing. A tall figure held the door open, half-silhouetted in the moonlight. Her hair was piled on top of her head, tendrils snaking down to frame her face. She was dressed from the waist down, and her legs were hidden by flowing opaque drapes that drifted against the current of the wind. Her breasts were covered only by a strip of the same material. For a moment I was transfixed; she was so beautiful. Her body was perfect, tall and willowy. Her hair streamed and flowed in no particular rhythm, too fine and too thick at the same time. She began to walk towards me, swaying, letting her skirt drifting hypnotically. Then I saw her face. She was grey – no, silver – and metal plating encircled her left eye and part of her brow bone. Her eyes had no irises, just vertical slits that dilated in the dark of the room. For a moment, the scientist in me wondered just what she was. Was she some kind of hallucination? Was she a figment of my imagination? Was she a dream? She stopped a couple of metres from me and ****** a metal-tipped finger at me. I rose, almost involuntarily, from the chair, my hands stilling at last, and walked towards her. Every step was odd. I took her extended hand. It was cold, but her touch was like lightning. I stared into her eyes as she pulled me closer, so close that our bodies touched. Our heads level, I stared into her eyes. Sawing machines and bolts, wires, steel and smoke. A blue light, a lightning strike, and a sun so bright it reached the furthest rock and the deepest quark. And a music so beautiful it touched the coldest moon and the hottest star. I stared into her eyes, and they sucked me in. |
| OMG i love it!! its so unique and original that i believe it has potential to become more than what it is currently! keep it this interesting throughout the whole book and your good to go!! :DD good luck and keep on writing no matter what, if you do happen to continue this can u pls either post it up on one of those websites where u post ur writing up or email me ur continued version of the story: tinasalvatore71@yahoo.com <3 |