Poll: If I wrote an original story, would you read it? Vote Now!
Author has written 40 stories for Rise of the Guardians, Hunger Games, Artemis Fowl, Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Princess Academy, Guardians of Childhood series, Captain America, Homestuck, Divergent Trilogy, Star Wars Rebels, Steven Universe, Rainbow Magic, Lego Movie, and Frozen.
STATUS UPDATE (12/23/15):
I'm a little dead. No, not really. Or yes. I don't know. As of now, I'm in high school, which anyone who is going or has gone through can testify to be a burden by itself, which leaves me very little time for writing as it is.
In addition, I have pledged myself to finish my original novel before the end of this school year (this is not going well), and which you can read *here on Wattpad* for more current life-updates if you're interested. And also just because I need readers — really, really, it's a great story starring very realistic family of seven and about the ethics in human cloning, experimentation, synthetic conception, and cyborgs, while touching very close to modern-day colloquialisms/meme culture. Please. Please read it.
As for fanfic itself —
Dear Fanfiction Writers: I will continue updating this. Count me on that. I just haven't had many opportunities to read fanfic, and also seeing as this fandom is relatively dead, it's hard for me to whip up good letters. But I don't think I'll ever finish because people keep finding it and submitting some pretty rad ideas (which it's just very hard to think of stuff for, sorry, humor is hard).
Children of Fear: IF I DON'T FINISH THIS, IT WILL BE BECAUSE I'VE DIED. Oh my gods, it's been such a long journey and I'm not giving up now, even if I don't have the amazing Mystichawk to assist me. It's taking me a much longer time to complete than I projected because I do not have Mystichawk, but I do see the end in sight, and estimate it to be done at about 33 chapters. In the meanwhile, I'd love some predictions for the ending because I don't really even know what I want and it will probably happen as it do. Idk.
Death's Deception/Death's Embrace/The Second Death: Ye gods, you just won't leave these ones alone. Admittedly, this was kind of my fault. I sort of regret taking the entirety of DD down, and am debating on reposting chapters with the homophobic comments/connotations removed because apparently, some people actually liked it? Anyway. A lot of people have been interested in DE and I regret to say that I cannot and will not continue with that as it is; HOWEVER, the concept has never left me, and both it and its sister story on Fictionpress, Five Quarts of Formaldehyde, may undergo serious rewrites in the distant future. Possibly-maybe-I-can't-say.
5 Things You Didn't Know About Nico di Angelo: I know I'm evil. No, I'm not going to continue.
Houston, We Have So Many Problems What was I thinking with this too? WHAT? Oh yeah, I know, I was thinking that I was gonna do an entire gemstuck AU for the characters of my aforementioned novel. If you're still looking for updates on this, I'm really sorry, but I don't think it's going anywhere. Please, just give the original story a try. It's so much better, I swear.
How to Fit Your Heart in a Petri Dish: YEET THIS IS AWESOMEEEEEEEE thank you all so much for being here with me on this journey. i can't wait to finish this
At Harbor: Don't ask, please.
The Queen and the Trashbag: Do I plan to finish this? Am I working on it? Yes, and it should take only one more chapter to finish. It's coming along. Eventually. Just very, very slowly.
Less Than We Were: Okay, now you're just asking for advertisement. THIS WAS, ADMITTEDLY, character development only for the (you guessed it!) original novel. Will not be continued. Sorry.
De Facto: if i don't finish this then you have my permission to fly to my house and bulldoze me where i stand
born for the blue skies
we'll survive the rain
yeah, we are the dark horses
If you're coming here from my reputation, as an old fan, or just surfing:
I used to have a ton of stuff here. However, if you're looking for it, you'll still get a lot of stuff, just not as much. I first made this account and this profile when I was very young and since then I've changed. I realize now that some things I reposted here were really offensive to marginalized peoples and I profusely apologize. I have deleted what I could find (along with things that just weren't funny to me anymore), so if you were looking for something and can't find it now, that's probably why.
yo im sky
throw me into the sun
Jumping right to the point: REVIEW. Writers –– all of them, from famous authors to subtle FF writers –– ALL depend on the feedback from our readers. Vision Dominican brought up an interesting albeit tragically true idea:
"Lack of reviews is the greatest killer of fan fic writers out there. We at the institute wish to let the public know of how they can pitch in to save our dying writers.
1) Drop a review every other chapter. It may not seem like much, but reviews are actually what many of us want to see. That, and hits. Hits do make us happy but we don't really know if people like our story or not.
2) Visit our author page. Those kind of hits really make us happy. It's where we showcase our entourage of friends, beta readers, and stories. Some of us even tidy up with set areas for upcoming story ideas and character bios.
3) Send a personal message. While normally I'd prefer a review, emails are just as good. Really, it warms my heart to communicate with another reader or writer."
What you call being "too lazy to review" is what we call "a flame to the pages" as the writers. That one minute or two that you felt "too lazy" to review is another minute of creeping discouragement that all writers feel as they begin to think...
"Why am I even here…?"
"What's even the point of continuing?"
"My skills must be terrible…no one cares for my story…"
"I'll never be a good writer...I quit."
These are only a few thoughts that go through every writer's head –– that go through MY head –– when we put out a chapter / story with all our heart and soul within, and we sit there…and sit…and wait…and not a single person says even a word.
If you're not a writer, you have NO IDEA how much that hurts…
If you ARE a writer, then I'm sure you know just how great it feels when someone is kind enough to leave a heartwarming and encouraging review, and you read it, smiling while thinking, "Wow…I did it…"
So, why not give fellow writers the same luxury here?
Too many times I've seen epic and utterly beautiful works of literary art fall to pieces before finally being abandoned due to the terrible discouragement that the lack of reviews can cause.
Sometimes, it is so severe that the very writer himself decides to quit, denying the world his skills of writing that I am sure it would have deeply enjoyed.
Just one minute, that's all it takes. Just a few gentle taps of the fingers on your keyboard, a few seconds or so of your time, and your words can SAVE a writer from a dark demise.
Do me a favor: Go find a story, ANY story, anywhere here on Fanfic,net, and see if you can help it. If it has very little / no reviews at all, just check it out, and say whatever comes to mind.
And enjoy the thought in mind that you could have just SAVED that story, with just a few taps of the keyboard…
If you agree with what I have said then please copy and paste any part of this story you wish onto your profile. Modify it in any way you see fit; there is no need to use my exact words. You make it say what you want it to say.
Thank you so much for reading, and please try to complete the 'mission' I have given you. With just a minute of your time, you could save a writer…so please, do it.
Because, my readers…
Silence is truly deafening…"
The 27 Commandments of Fanfiction, or anything written in general
People really need to pay attention to these. They are bolded for a reason.
1. Thou shalt not post a fic until it has been checked for grammar and spelling errors. The fanfiction gods hath given you a spellchecker on the computer for good reason. Use it.
2. Thou shalt not post a chapter of less than 100 words, unless it is a drabble. If thou breakest this rule, this displeases the masses.
3. Thou shalt not put author's notes in the middle of the story. At beginnings and endings are fine.
4. Thou shalt NEVER use text-speak in a fic, unless the characters are actually texting.
5. Thou shalt keep to one tense, and only one, throughout the story. Do not switch randomly.
6. Apply the above number 5 to POVs as well.
7. Thou shalt not get offended when someone makes fun of the crack pairing featured in your fanfiction. It probably is rather hilarious.
8. Thou shalt not use , ;, or >:( in a fanfiction to show the emotion exhibited by a character.
9. Thou shall try-eth to keep characters in character!
10. Thou shall not treat every criticism as a flame.
11. The author's note is not a spot for your personal drama, and thou shalt not make it so.
12. Thou shalt not put any form of the phrase "first fic" in thy summary. This turns away the ones who taketh this business seriously.
13. Thy created characters must not have names that exceed five syllables in length. Nor shall thy name have more than five words.
14. Thou shall not insert thyself into the story line as thyself or as a character –– yes, we know that you are in love with yourself and are very narcissistic, we just don’t want to read about how you end up with the main character.
15. If thou art writing a story that does not follow the original story line, point it out in the beginning.
16. Thou shall not make a person randomly smart or powerful unless stating a reason for the change (a good reason).
17. Thou shalt show and not tell.
18. Thou shalt not EVER use the phrase "I suck at summaries" in-est thine summary. This annoys thine readers.
19. Thou shalt not write the same way thou speakest –– writing is an art.
20. Thou shalt ALWAYS spell the word "okay" correctly. Using the letter "K" is an unacceptable compromise.
21. Thou shalt only use clichés when thou a) art writing a parody or b) find a new and interesting twist to make such clichés bearable to thine reader.
22. Thou shalt always separate dialogue from two separate speakers in two separate paragraphs. Otherwise thine readers shalt be confuse-ed.
23. Thou shalt not EVER make a chapter all one paragraph. THIS INFURIATES BOTH THINE READER AND THE FANFICTION GODS. They have given thee an ENTER key with good reason.
24. Thou shalt not write with thy caps lock on. It displeases the masses, causes thy readers to lose their vision, and makes angels weep.
25. Thou shalt know how to spell the character's names correctly before thou writeth the fic. Misspelling the name of the main characters makes readers angry and distracts from the story.
26. Thou shalt not say in thine summary "summary inside". This shows lack of creativity and infuriates the masses. The only exception is when a summary is cut short and a continuation of it lies inside.
27. Thou shalt use paragraphs and space the story so it is not terrifyingly daunting to thine readers.
Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.
This is the longest, grammatically correct, non-punctuated sentence that one can make with only one word. Buffalo can mean: 1) prop. noun- a city in New York 2) noun- an animal 3) verb- to pester, annoy, or confuse
To make sense of this, replace definition two with 'people' and definition three with 'intimidate.'
Buffalo people (whom) Buffalo people intimidate (also) intimidate Buffalo people.
Courtesy of William J. Rapaport from the University of (where else?) Buffalo!
A student got a 0% on the following exam even when he didn't get anything wrong. How is that?
Q1: In which battle did Napoleon die?
A: In his last battle
Q2: Where was the Declaration of Independence signed?
A: At the bottom of the paper
Q3: The River Ravi flows in which state?
Q4: What is the main reason for divorce?
Q5: What is the main reason for failure?
Q6: What can you never eat for breakfast?
A: Lunch and dinner
Q7: What looks like half an apple?
A: The other half
Q8: If you throw a red stone into the blue sea, what will it become?
Q9: How can a man go eight days without sleeping?
A: He sleeps at night
Q10: How can you lift an elephant with one hand?
A: You will never find an elephant that only has one hand
Q11: It took eight men ten hours to build a wall. How long will it take four men to build it?
A: No time at all. The wall is already built.
Q12: How can you drop an egg on a concrete floor without cracking it?
A: Any way you want. Concrete floors are very hard to crack.
Friends will make plans with your parents before they come to your house.
Best friends will barge through the door and yell, “I’M HOME!”
Friends will bring you your homework when you’re home sick.
Best friends will stuff it down a paper shredder for you and then blame it on their dog.
Friends will leave you behind if that is what the crowd is doing.
Best friends will kick the whole crowd’s butt that left you.
Friends ask you to write down your number for them.
Best friends have you on speed dial.
Friends have to be told not to tell anyone.
Best friends already know not to tell.
Friends will help you when you’re lost.
Best friends will give you bad directions and screw with your compass.
Friends will go with you to a concert.
Best friends will help you kidnap the band.
Friends will hide you from the cops.
Best friends are probably the reason they are after you.
Friends will bail you out of prison.
Best friends will be sitting next to you saying, “We screwed up, didn't we? But dang... that was awesome!"
Friends will find you your Prince Charming.
Best friends will find him, kidnap him, and then bring him to you.
Friends will comfort you when he breaks up with you.
Best friends will call him and whisper into the receiver, “Seven days…”
Friends will help you learn how to drive.
Best friends will help you roll the car into the lake so you can collect the insurance.
Friends borrow your stuff for a few days and then return it.
Best friends have had your stuff for so long they’ve forgotten it’s yours.
Friends will leave when they feel insulted.
Best friends will forgive you even if you don’t know what you said wrong.
Friends will ask you if you’re okay when you’re crying.
Best friends will cry with you and then go beat up the sorry loser who made you cry.
Friends will offer you a soda.
Best friends will dump theirs on you.
Friends will console you when your house catches on fire.
Best friends will roast marshmallows and flirt with the firemen.
Friends will ask, “Hey, are you okay?”
Best friends will load up their shotgun before you can tell them what's wrong.
Friends tell you that you look nice.
Best friends will tell you that your outfit looks like puke and help you find a new one ten minutes before school starts.
Friends say "good luck" when you go get your ears pierced.
Best friends help pick out your studs, take before and after pictures of your earlobes, and then put up with the unending questions and mirror-staring.
Friends roll their eyes when you start rambling yet again about your boyfriend (the fourth time that night).
Best friends start rambling with you.
Friends smile amusedly when you get obsessed with something.
Best friends get obsessed with you.
Friends say "See you later!"
Best friends say "I LUUUUUUUUUHHHHHVVVV you!!! DON'T LEEEEEAVVVE!" and tackle/hugs you.
Friends forgive you.
Best friends hold a fake grudge against you until you let them borrow a hair band.
Friends tell jokes with you.
Best friends have countless inside jokes with you.
Friends will help you move.
Best friends will help you move the bodies.
Friends meet your boyfriend and say "Nice to meet you."
Best friends meet your boyfriend and scare the crap out of him by threatening to break every bone in his body if he hurts you.
Friends think you’re insane for jumping off a roof onto a trampoline.
Best friends are jumping right after you.
Friends come over every couple of months for a sleepover.
Best friends are your weekend boarders.
Friends are shy around your boyfriend.
Best friends will tease him until he blushes redder than a fire truck.
Friends call you crazy for running through the bleachers yelling, “IT’S PICKLE TIME!”
Best friends say, "NO. IT'S CUCUMBER TIME!" and then run with you.
Friends will be crying at your funeral.
Best friends will be sitting in jail for killing the guy who murdered you.
Friends will ignore this.
Best friends will repost this crap!
Yay band nerds! :D
If you think it's hard to:
Forty-six Laws of Anime
Originally compiled and edited by Darrin Bright and Ryan Shellito
1. Law of Metaphysical Irregularity
2. Law of Differentiated Gravitation
3. Law of Sonic Amplification, First Law of Anime Acoustics
4. Law of Constant Thrust, First Law of Anime Motion
5. Law of Mechanical Mobility, Second Law of Anime Motion
6. Law of Temporal Variability
7. First Law of Temporal Mortality
8. Second Law of Temporal Mortality
9. Law of Dramatic Emphasis
10, Law of Dramatic Multiplicity
11. Law of Inherent Combustability
12. Law of Phlogistatic Emission
13. Law of Energetic Emission
14. Law of Inverse Lethal Magnitude
15. Law of Inexhaustability
16. Law of Inverse Accuracy
17. Law of Transient Romantic Unreliability
18. Law of Hemoglobin Capacity
19. Law of Demonic Consistency
20. Law of Militaristic Unreliability
21. Law of Tactical Unreliability
22. Law of Inconsequential Undetectability
23. Law of Juvenile Intellectuality
24. Law of Americanthropomorphism
25. Law of Mandibular Proportionality
26. Law of Feline Mutation
27. Law of Conservation of Firepower
28. Law of Technological User-Benevolence
29. Law of Melee Luminescence
30. Law of Non-anthropomorphic Antagonism
31. Law of Follicular Chroma Variability
32. Law of Follicular Permanence
33. Law of Topological Aerodynamics, First Law of Anime Aero-Dynamics
34. Law of Probable Attire
35. Law of Musical Omnipotence
36. Law of Quitupular Aggultination
37. Law of Extradimensional Capacitance
38. Law of Hydrostatic Emission
39. Law of Inverse Attraction
40. Law of Nasal Sanguination
41. Law of Xylolaceration
42. Law of Juvenile Omnipotence
43. Law of Quadrotriscadecophobia
44. Law of Nominative Clamovocation
45. Law of Uninteruptable Metamorphosis
46. Law of Flimsy Incognition
Rules to follow if you want to be a successful Evil Overlord:
My Legions of Terror will have helmets with clear plexiglass visors, not face-concealing ones.
My ventilation ducts will be too small to crawl through.
My noble half-brother whose throne I usurped will be killed, not kept anonymously imprisoned in a forgotten cell of my dungeon.
Shooting is not too good for my enemies.
The artifact which is the source of my power will not be kept on the Mountain of Despair beyond the River of Fire guarded by the Dragons of Eternity. It will be in my safe-deposit box. The same applies to the object which is my one weakness.
I will not gloat over my enemies' predicament before killing them.
When I've captured my adversary and he says, "Look, before you kill me, will you at least tell me what this is all about?" I'll say, "No." and shoot him. No, on second thought, I'll shoot him, then say "No."
After I kidnap the beautiful princess, we will be married immediately in a quiet civil ceremony, not a lavish spectacle in three weeks' time during which the final phase of my plan will be carried out.
I will not include a self-destruct mechanism unless absolutely necessary. If it is necessary, it will not be a large red button labeled "Danger: Do Not Push". The big red button marked "Do Not Push" will instead trigger a spray of bullets on anyone stupid enough to disregard it. Similarly, the ON/OFF switch will not clearly be labeled as such.
I will not interrogate my enemies in the inner sanctum –– a small hotel well outside my borders will work just as well.
I will be secure in my superiority. Therefore, I will feel no need to prove it by leaving clues in the form of riddles or leaving my weaker enemies alive to show they pose no threat.
One of my advisors will be an average five-year-old child. Any flaws in my plan that he is able to spot will be corrected before implementation.
All slain enemies will be cremated, or at least have several rounds of ammunition emptied into them, not left for dead at the bottom of the cliff. The announcement of their deaths, as well as any accompanying celebration, will be deferred until after the aforementioned disposal.
The hero is not entitled to a last kiss, a last cigarette, or any other form of last request.
I will never employ any device with a digital countdown. If I find that such a device is absolutely unavoidable, I will set it to activate when the counter reaches 117 and the hero is just putting his plan into operation.
I will never utter the sentence "But before I kill you, there's just one thing I want to know."
When I employ people as advisors, I will occasionally listen to their advice.
I will not have a son. Although his laughably under-planned attempt to usurp power would easily fail, it would provide a fatal distraction at a crucial point in time.
I will not have a daughter. She would be as beautiful as she was evil, but one look at the hero's rugged countenance and she'd betray her own father.
Despite its proven stress-relieving effect, I will not indulge in maniacal laughter. When so occupied, it's too easy to miss unexpected developments that a more attentive individual could adjust to accordingly.
I will hire a talented fashion designer to create original uniforms for my Legions of Terror, as opposed to some cheap knock-offs that make them look like Nazi stormtroopers, Roman footsoldiers, or savage Mongol hordes. All were eventually defeated and I want my troops to have a more positive mind-set.
No matter how tempted I am with the prospect of unlimited power, I will not consume any energy field bigger than my head.
I will keep a special cache of low-tech weapons and train my troops in their use. That way –– even if the heroes manage to neutralize my power generator and/or render the standard-issue energy weapons useless –– my troops will not be overrun by a handful of savages armed with spears and rocks.
I will maintain a realistic assessment of my strengths and weaknesses. Even though this takes some of the fun out of the job, at least I will never utter the line "No, this cannot be! I AM INVINCIBLE!!" (After that, death is usually instantaneous.)
No matter how well it would perform, I will never construct any sort of machinery which is completely indestructible except for one small and virtually inaccessible vulnerable spot.
No matter how attractive certain members of the rebellion are, there is probably someone just as attractive who is not desperate to kill me. Therefore, I will think twice before ordering a prisoner sent to my bedchamber.
I will never build only one of anything important. All important systems will have redundant control panels and power supplies. For the same reason I will always carry at least two fully loaded weapons at all times.
My pet monster will be kept in a secure cage from which it cannot escape and into which I could not accidentally stumble.
I will dress in bright and cheery colors, and so throw my enemies into confusion.
All bumbling conjurers, clumsy squires, no-talent bards, and cowardly thieves in the land will be preemptively put to death. My foes will surely give up and abandon their quest if they have no source of comic relief.
All naïve, busty tavern wenches in my realm will be replaced with surly, world-weary waitresses who will provide no unexpected reinforcement and/or romantic subplot for the hero or his sidekick.
I will not fly into a rage and kill a messenger who brings me bad news just to illustrate how evil I really am. Good messengers are hard to come by.
I won't require high-ranking female members of my organization to wear a stainless-steel bustier. Morale is better with a more casual dress-code. Similarly, outfits made entirely from black leather will be reserved for formal occasions.
I will not turn into a snake. It never helps.
I will not grow a goatee. In the old days they made you look diabolic. Now they just make you look like a disaffected member of Generation X.
I will not imprison members of the same party in the same cell block, let alone the same cell. If they are important prisoners, I will keep the only key to the cell door on my person instead of handing out copies to every bottom-rung guard in the prison.
If my trusted lieutenant tells me my Legions of Terror are losing a battle, I will believe him. After all, he's my trusted lieutenant.
If an enemy I have just killed has a younger sibling or offspring anywhere, I will find them and have them killed immediately, instead of waiting for them to grow up harboring feelings of vengeance towards me in my old age.
If I absolutely must ride into battle, I will certainly not ride at the forefront of my Legions of Terror, nor will I seek out my opposite number among his army.
I will be neither chivalrous nor sporting. If I have an unstoppable superweapon, I will use it as early and as often as possible instead of keeping it in reserve.
Once my power is secure, I will destroy all those pesky time-travel devices.
When I capture the hero, I will make sure I also get his dog, monkey, ferret, or whatever sickeningly cute little animal capable of untying ropes and filching keys happens to follow him around.
I will maintain a healthy amount of skepticism when I capture the beautiful rebel and she claims she is attracted to my power and good looks and will gladly betray her companions if I just let her in on my plans.
I will only employ bounty hunters who work for money. Those who work for the pleasure of the hunt tend to do dumb things like even the odds to give the other guy a sporting chance.
I will make sure I have a clear understanding of who is responsible for what in my organization. For example, if my general screws up I will not draw my weapon, point it at him, say "And here is the price for failure," then suddenly turn and kill some random underling.
If an advisor says to me "My liege, he is but one man. What can one man possibly do?", I will reply "This," and kill the advisor.
If I learn that a callow youth has begun a quest to destroy me, I will slay him while he is still a callow youth instead of waiting for him to mature.
I will treat any beast which I control through magic or technology with respect and kindness. Thus if the control is ever broken, it will not immediately come after me for revenge.
If I learn the whereabouts of the one artifact which can destroy me, I will not send all my troops out to seize it. Instead I will send them out to seize something else and quietly put a Want-Ad in the local paper.
My main computers will have their own special operating system that will be completely incompatible with standard IBM and Macintosh powerbooks.
If one of my dungeon guards begins expressing concern over the conditions in the beautiful princess's cell, I will immediately transfer him to a less people-oriented position.
I will hire a team of board-certified architects and surveyors to examine my castle and inform me of any secret passages and abandoned tunnels that I might not know about.
If the beautiful princess that I capture says "I'll never marry you! Never, do you hear me, NEVER!!", I will say "Oh well" and kill her.
I will not strike a bargain with a demonic being then attempt to double-cross it simply because I feel like being contrary.
The deformed mutants and odd-ball psychotics will have their place in my Legions of Terror. However before I send them out on important covert missions that require tact and subtlety, I will first see if there is anyone else equally qualified who would attract less attention.
My Legions of Terror will be trained in basic marksmanship. Any who cannot learn to hit a man-sized target at 10 meters will be used for target practice.
Before employing any captured artifacts or machinery, I will carefully read the owner's manual.
If it becomes necessary to escape, I will never stop to pose dramatically and toss off a one-liner.
I will never build a sentient computer smarter than I am.
My five-year-old child advisor will also be asked to decipher any code I am thinking of using. If he breaks the code in under 30 seconds, it will not be used. Note: this also applies to passwords.
If my advisors ask "Why are you risking everything on such a mad scheme?", I will not proceed until I have a response that satisfies them.
I will design fortress hallways with no alcoves or protruding structural supports which intruders could use for cover in a firefight.
Bulk trash will be disposed of in incinerators, not compactors. And they will be kept hot, with none of that nonsense about flames going through accessible tunnels at predictable intervals.
I will see a competent psychiatrist and get cured of all extremely unusual phobias and bizarre compulsive habits which could prove to be a disadvantage.
If I must have computer systems with publicly available terminals, the maps they display of my complex will have a room clearly marked as the Main Control Room. That room will be the Execution Chamber. The actual main control room will be marked as Sewage Overflow Containment.
My security keypad will actually be a fingerprint scanner. Anyone who watches someone press a sequence of buttons or dusts the pad for fingerprints then subsequently tries to enter by repeating that sequence will trigger the alarm system.
No matter how many shorts we have in the system, my guards will be instructed to treat every surveillance camera malfunction as a full-scale emergency.
I will spare someone who saved my life sometime in the past. This is only reasonable as it encourages others to do so. However, the offer is good one time only. If they want me to spare them again, they'd better save my life again.
All midwives will be banned from the realm. All babies will be delivered at state-approved hospitals. Orphans will be placed in foster-homes, not abandoned in the woods to be raised by creatures of the wild.
When my guards split up to search for intruders, they will always travel in groups of at least two. They will be trained so that if one of them disappears mysteriously while on patrol, the other will immediately initiate an alert and call for backup, instead of quizzically peering around a corner.
If I decide to test a lieutenant's loyalty and see if he/she should be made a trusted lieutenant, I will have a crack squad of marksmen standing by in case the answer is no.
If all the heroes are standing together around a strange device and begin to taunt me, I will pull out a conventional weapon instead of using my unstoppable superweapon on them.
I will not agree to let the heroes go free if they win a rigged contest, even though my advisors assure me it is impossible for them to win.
When I create a multimedia presentation of my plan designed so that my five-year-old advisor can easily understand the details, I will not label the disk "Project Overlord" and leave it lying on top of my desk.
I will instruct my Legions of Terror to attack the hero en masse, instead of standing around waiting while members break off and attack one or two at a time.
If the hero runs up to my roof, I will not run up after him and struggle with him in an attempt to push him over the edge. I will also not engage him at the edge of a cliff. (In the middle of a rope-bridge over a river of molten lava is not even worth considering.)
If I have a fit of temporary insanity and decide to give the hero the chance to reject a job as my trusted lieutenant, I will retain enough sanity to wait until my current trusted lieutenant is out of earshot before making the offer.
I will not tell my Legions of Terror "And he must be taken alive!" The command will be "And try to take him alive if it is reasonably practical."
If my doomsday device happens to come with a reverse switch, as soon as it has been employed it will be melted down and made into limited-edition commemorative coins.
If my weakest troops fail to eliminate a hero, I will send out my best troops instead of wasting time with progressively stronger ones as he gets closer and closer to my fortress.
If I am fighting with the hero atop a moving platform, have disarmed him, and am about to finish him off and he glances behind me and drops flat, I too will drop flat instead of quizzically turning around to find out what he saw.
I will not shoot at any of my enemies if they are standing in front of the crucial support beam to a heavy, dangerous, unbalanced structure.
If I'm eating dinner with the hero, put poison in his goblet, then have to leave the table for any reason, I will order new drinks for both of us instead of trying to decide whether or not to switch with him.
I will not have captives of one sex guarded by members of the opposite sex.
I will not use any plan in which the final step is horribly complicated, e.g. "Align the 12 Stones of Power on the sacred altar then activate the medallion at the moment of total eclipse." Instead it will be more along the lines of "Push the button."
I will make sure that my doomsday device is up to code and properly grounded.
My vats of hazardous chemicals will be covered when not in use. Also, I will not construct walkways above them.
If a group of henchmen fail miserably at a task, I will not berate them for incompetence then send the same group out to try the task again.
After I capture the hero's superweapon, I will not immediately disband my legions and relax my guard because I believe whoever holds the weapon is unstoppable. After all, the hero held the weapon and I took it from him.
I will not design my Main Control Room so that every workstation is facing away from the door.
I will not ignore the messenger that stumbles in exhausted and obviously agitated until my personal grooming or current entertainment is finished. It might actually be important.
If I ever talk to the hero on the phone, I will not taunt him. Instead I will say this his dogged perseverance has given me new insight on the futility of my evil ways and that if he leaves me alone for a few months of quiet contemplation I will likely return to the path of righteousness. (Heroes are incredibly gullible in this regard.)
If I decide to hold a double execution of the hero and an underling who failed or betrayed me, I will see to it that the hero is scheduled to go first.
When arresting prisoners, my guards will not allow them to stop and grab a useless trinket of purely sentimental value.
My dungeon will have its own qualified medical staff complete with bodyguards. That way if a prisoner becomes sick and his cellmate tells the guard it's an emergency, the guard will fetch a trauma team instead of opening up the cell for a look.
My door mechanisms will be designed so that blasting the control panel on the outside seals the door and blasting the control panel on the inside opens the door, not vice versa.
My dungeon cells will not be furnished with objects that contain reflective surfaces or anything that can be unraveled.
If an attractive young couple enters my realm, I will carefully monitor their activities. If I find they are happy and affectionate, I will ignore them. However if circumstance have forced them together against their will and they spend all their time bickering and criticizing each other except during the intermittent occasions when they are saving each others' lives at which point there are hints of sexual tension, I will immediately order their execution.
Any data file of crucial importance will be padded to 1.45 MB in size.
To keep my subjects permanently locked in a mindless trance, I will provide each of them with free unlimited Internet access.
I will not order my trusted lieutenant to kill the infant who is destined to overthrow me -- I'll do it myself.
I will not waste time making my enemy's death look like an accident -- I'm not accountable to anyone and my other enemies wouldn't believe it.
I will make it clear that I do know the meaning of the word "mercy"; I simply choose not show them any.
My undercover agents will not have tattoos identifying them as members of my organization, nor will they be required to wear military boots or adhere to any other dress codes.
I will design all doomsday machines myself. If I must hire a mad scientist to assist me, I will make sure that he is sufficiently twisted to never regret his evil ways and seek to undo the damage he's caused.
If my supreme command center comes under attack, I will immediately flee to safety in my prepared escape pod and direct the defenses from there. I will not wait until the troops break into my inner sanctum to attempt this.
Even though I don't really care because I plan on living forever, I will hire engineers who are able to build me a fortress sturdy enough that, if I am slain, it won't tumble to the ground for no good structural reason.
Any and all magic and/or technology that can miraculously resurrect a secondary character who has given up his/her life through self sacrifice will be outlawed and destroyed.
I will see to it that plucky young lads/lasses in strange clothes and with the accent of an outlander shall REGULARLY climb some monument in the main square of my capital and denounce me, claim to know the secret of my power, rally the masses to rebellion, etc. That way, the citizens will be jaded in case the real thing ever comes along.
I will not employ devious schemes that involve the hero's party getting into my inner sanctum before the trap is sprung.
I will offer oracles the choice of working exclusively for me or being executed.
I will not rely entirely upon "totally reliable" spells that can be neutralized by relatively inconspicuous talismans.
I will make the main entrance to my fortress standard-sized. While elaborate 60-foot high double-doors definitely impress the masses, they are hard to close quickly in an emergency.
I will never accept a challenge from the hero.
I will not engage an enemy single-handedly until all my soldiers are dead.
If I capture the hero's starship, I will keep it in the landing bay with the ramp down, only a few token guards on duty and a ton of explosives set to go off as soon as it clears the blast-range.
No matter how much I want revenge, I will never order an underling "Leave him. He's mine!"
If I have equipment which performs an important function, it will not be activated by a lever that someone could trigger by accidentally falling on when fatally wounded.
I will not attempt to kill the hero by placing a venomous creature in his room. It will just wind up accidentally killing one of my clumsy henchmen instead.
Since nothing is more irritating than a hero defeating you with basic math skills, all of my personal weapons will be modified to fire one more shot than the standard issue.
If I come into possession of an artifact which can only be used by the pure of heart, I will not attempt to use it regardless.
The gun turrets on my fortress will not rotate enough so that they may direct fire inward or at each other.
If I decide to hold a contest of skill open to the general public, contestants will be required to remove their hooded cloaks and shave their beards before entering.
Prior to kidnapping an older male scientist and forcing him to work for me, I will investigate his offspring and make sure that he has neither a beautiful but naive daughter who is willing to risk anything to get him back, nor an estranged son who works in the same field but had a falling-out with his father many years ago.
Should I actually decide to kill the hero in an elaborate escape-proof deathtrap room (water filling up, sand pouring down, walls converging, etc.) I will not leave him alone five-to-ten minutes prior to "imminent" death, but will instead (finding a vantage point or monitoring camera) stick around and enjoy watching my adversary's demise.
Rather than having only one secret escape pod, which the hero can easily spot and follow, I'll simultaneously launch a few dozen decoys to throw him off track.
Prison guards will have their own cantina featuring a wide variety of tasty treats that will deliver snacks to the guards while on duty. The guards will also be informed that accepting food or drink from any other source will result in execution.
I will not employ robots as agents of destruction if there is any possible way that they can be re-programmed or if their battery packs are externally mounted and easily removable.
Despite the delicious irony, I will not force two heroes to fight each other in the arena.
All members of my Legions of Terror will have professionally tailored uniforms. If the hero knocks a soldier unconscious and steals the uniform, the poor fit will give him away.
I will never place the key to a cell just out of a prisoner's reach.
Before appointing someone as my trusted lieutenant, I will conduct a thorough background investigation and security clearance.
If I find my beautiful consort with access to my fortress has been associating with the hero, I'll have her executed. It's regrettable, but new consorts are easier to get than new fortresses and maybe the next one will pay attention at the orientation meeting.
If I am escaping in a large truck and the hero is pursuing me in a small Italian sports car, I will not wait for the hero to pull up along side of me and try to force him off the road as he attempts to climb aboard. Instead I will slam on the brakes when he's directly behind me. (A rudimentary knowledge of physics can prove quite useful.)
My doomsday machine will have a highly-advanced technological device called a capacitor in case someone inconveniently pulls the plug at the last second. (If I have access to REALLY advanced technology, I will include a back-up device known as a battery.)
If I build a bomb, I will simply remember which wire to cut if it has to be deactivated and make every wire red.
Before spending available funds on giant gargoyles, gothic arches, or other cosmetically intimidating pieces of architecture, I will see if there are any valid military expenditures that could use the extra budget.
The passageways to and within my domain will be well-lit with fluorescent lighting. Regrettably, the spooky atmosphere will be lost, but my security patrols will be more effective.
If I'm sitting in my camp, hear a twig snap, start to investigate, then encounter a small woodland creature, I will send out some scouts anyway just to be on the safe side. (If they disappear into the foliage, I will not send out another patrol; I will break out the napalm.)
I will instruct my guards when checking a cell that appears empty to look for the chamber pot. If the chamber pot is still there, then the prisoner has escaped and they may enter and search for clues. If the chamber pot is not there, then either the prisoner is perched above the lintel waiting to strike them with it or else he decided to take it as a souvenir (in which case he is obviously deeply disturbed and poses no threat). Either way, there's no point in entering.
As an alternative to not having children, I will have lots of children. My sons will be too busy jockeying for position to ever be a real threat, and the daughters will all sabotage each other's attempts to win the hero.
If I have children and subsequently grandchildren, I will keep my three-year-old granddaughter near me at all times. When the hero enters to kill me, I will ask him to first explain to her why it is necessary to kill her beloved grandpa. When the hero launches into an explanation of morality way over her head, that will be her cue to pull the lever and send him into the pit of crocodiles. After all, small children like crocodiles almost as much as Evil Overlords and it's important to spend quality time with the grandkids.
If one of my daughters actually manages to win the hero and openly defies me, I will congratulate her on her choice, declare a national holiday to celebrate the wedding, and proclaim the hero my heir. This will probably be enough to break up the relationship. If not, at least I am assured that no hero will attack my Legions of Terror when they are holding a parade in his honor.
I will order my guards to stand in a line when they shoot at the hero so he cannot duck and have them accidentally shoot each other. Also, I will order some to aim above, below, and to the sides so he cannot jump out of the way.
My dungeon cell decor will not feature exposed pipes. While they add to the gloomy atmosphere, they are good conductors of vibrations and a lot of prisoners know Morse code.
If my surveillance reports any un-manned or seemingly innocent ships found where they are not supposed to be, they will be immediately vaporized instead of brought in for salvage.
I will classify my lieutenants in three categories: untrusted, trusted, and completely trusted. Promotion to the third category will be awarded posthumously.
Before ridiculing my enemies for wasting time on a device to stop me that couldn't possibly work, I will first acquire a copy of the schematics and make sure that in fact it couldn't possibly work.
Ropes supporting various fixtures will not be tied next to open windows or staircases, and chandeliers will be hung way at the top of the ceiling.
I will provide funding and research to develop tactical and strategic weapons covering a full range of needs so my choices are not limited to "hand to hand combat with swords" and "blow up the planet".
I will not set myself up as a god. That perilous position is reserved for my trusted lieutenant.
I will instruct my fashion designer that when it comes to accessorizing, second-chance body armor goes well with every outfit.
My Legions of Terror will be an equal-opportunity employer. Conversely, when it is prophesied that no man can defeat me, I will keep in mind the increasing number of non-traditional gender roles.
I will instruct my Legions of Terror in proper search techniques. In particular, if they are searching for escapees and someone shouts, "Quick! They went that way!", they must first ascertain the identity of this helpful informant before dashing off in hot pursuit.
If I know of any heroes in the land, I will not under any circumstance kill their mentors, teachers, and/or best friends.
If I have the hero and his party trapped, I will not wait until my Superweapon charges to finish them off if more conventional means are available.
Whenever plans are drawn up that include a time-table, I'll post-date the completion 3 days after it's actually scheduled to occur and not worry too much if they get stolen.
I will exchange the labels on my folder of top-secret plans and my folder of family recipes. Imagine the hero's surprise when he decodes the stolen plans and finds instructions for Grandma's Potato Salad.
If I burst into rebel headquarters and find it deserted except for an odd, blinking device, I will not walk up and investigate; I'll run like hell.
Before being accepted into my Legions of Terror, potential recruits will have to pass peripheral vision and hearing tests, and be able to recognize the sound of a pebble thrown to distract them.
I will occasionally vary my daily routine and not live my life in a rut. For example, I will not always take a swig of wine or ring a giant gong before finishing off my enemy.
If I steal something very important to the hero, I will not put it on public display.
When planning an expedition, I will choose a route for my forces that does not go through thick, leafy terrain conveniently located near the rebel camp.
I will hire one hopelessly stupid and incompetent lieutenant, but make sure that he is full of misinformation when I send him to capture the hero.
As an equal-opportunity employer, I will have several hearing-impaired body-guards. That way if I wish to speak confidentially with someone, I'll just turn my back so the guards can't read my lips instead of sending all of them out of the room.
If the rebels manage to trick me, I will make a note of what they did so that I do not keep falling for the same trick over and over again.
If I am recruiting to find someone to run my computer systems, and my choice is between the brilliant programmer who's head of the world's largest international technology conglomerate and an obnoxious 15-year-old dork who's trying to impress his dream girl, I'll take the brat and let the hero get stuck with the genius.
I will plan in advance what to do with each of my enemies if they are captured. That way, I will never have to order someone to be tied up while I decide his fate.
If I have massive computer systems, I will take at least as many precautions as a small business and include things such as virus-scans and firewalls.
I will be an equal-opportunity despot and make sure that terror and oppression is distributed fairly, not just against one particular group that will form the core of a rebellion.
I will not locate a base in a volcano, cave, or any other location where it would be ridiculously easy to bypass security by rapelling down from above.
I will allow guards to operate under a flexible work schedule. That way if one is feeling sleepy, he can call for a replacement, punch out, take a nap, and come back refreshed and alert to finish out his shift.
Although it would provide amusement, I will not confess to the hero's rival that I was the one who committed the heinous act for which he blames the hero.
If I am dangling over a precipice and the hero reaches his hand down to me, I will not attempt to pull him down with me. I will allow him to rescue me, thank him properly, then return to the safety of my fortress and order his execution.
I will have my fortress exorcized regularly. Although ghosts in the dungeon provide an appropriate atmosphere, they tend to provide valuable information once placated.
I will add indelible dye to the moat. It won't stop anyone from swimming across, but even dim-witted guards should be able to figure out when someone has entered in this fashion.
If a scientist with a beautiful and unmarried daughter refuses to work for me, I will not hold her hostage. Instead, I will offer to pay for her future wedding and her children's college tuition.
If I have the hero cornered and am about to finish him off and he says "Look out behind you!!" I will not laugh and say "You don't expect me to fall for that old trick, do you?" Instead I will take a step to the side and half turn. That way I can still keep my weapon trained on the hero, I can scan the area behind me, and if anything was heading for me it will now be heading for him.
I will not outsource core functions.
If I ever build a device to transfer the hero's energy into me, I will make sure it cannot operate in reverse.
I will decree that all hay be shipped in tightly-packed bales. Any wagonload of loose hay attempting to pass through a checkpoint will be set on fire.
I will not hold any sort of public celebration within my castle walls. Any event open to members of the public will be held down the road in the festival pavilion.
Before using any device which transfers energy directly into my body, I will install a surge suppressor.
I will hire a drama coach. The hero will think it must be a case of mistaken identity when confronted by my Minnesota accent (if everyone sounds American) or my Cornwall accent (if everyone sounds British).
If I capture an enemy known for escaping via ingenious and fantastic little gadgets, I will order a full cavity search and confiscate all personal items before throwing him in my dungeon.
I will not devise any scheme in which Part A consists of tricking the hero into unwittingly helping me and Part B consists of laughing at him then leaving him to his own devices.
I will not hold lavish banquets in the middle of a famine. The good PR among the guests doesn't make up for the bad PR among the masses.
I will funnel some of my ill-gotten gains into urban renewal projects. Although slums add a quaint and picturesque quality to any city, they too often contain unexpected allies for heroes.
I will never tell the hero "Yes I was the one who did it, but you'll never be able to prove it to that incompetent old fool." Chances are, that incompetant old fool is standing behind the curtain.
If my mad scientist/wizard tells me he has almost perfected my Superweapon but it still needs more testing, I will wait for him to complete the tests. No one ever conquered the world using a beta version.
I will not appoint a relative to my staff of advisors. Not only is nepotism the cause of most breakdowns in policy, but it also causes trouble with the EEOC.
If I appoint someone as my consort, I will not subsequently inform her that she is being replaced by a younger, more attractive woman.
If I am using the hero's girlfriend as a hostage and am holding her at the point of imminent death when confronting the hero, I will focus on her and not him. He won't try anything with his true love held hostage. On the other hand, the fact that she has been weak, slow-witted, naive and generally useless up to this point has no bearing on her actions at the moment of dramatic climax.
I will make several ludicrously erroneous maps to secret passages in my fortress and hire travellers to entrust them to aged hermits.
I will not use hostages as bait in a trap. Unless you're going to use them for negotiation or as human shields, there's no point in taking them.
I will hire an expert marksman to stand by the entrance to my fortress. His job will be to shoot anyone who rides up to challenge me.
I will explain to my Legions of Terror that guns are ranged weapons and swords are not. Anyone who attempts to throw a sword at the hero or club him with a gun will be summarily executed.
I will remember that any vulnerabilities I have are to be revealed strictly on a need-to-know basis. I will also remember that no one needs to know.
I will not make alliances with those more powerful than myself. Such a person would only double-cross me in my moment of glory. I will make alliances with those less powerful than myself. I will then double-cross them in their moment of glory.
During times of peace, my Legions of Terror will not be permitted to lie around drinking mead and eating roast boar. Instead they will be required to obey my dietician and my aerobics instructor.
All giant serpents acting as guardians in underground lakes will be fitted with sports goggles to prevent eye injuries.
All crones with the ability to prophesy will be given free facelifts, permanents, manicures, and Donna Karan wardrobes. That should pretty well destroy their credibility.
I will not employ an evil wizard if he has a sleazy mustache.
I will hire an entire squad of blind guards. Not only is this in keeping with my status as an equal opportunity employer, but it will come in handy when the hero becomes invisible or douses my only light source.
All repair work will be done by an in-house maintenance staff. Any alleged "repairmen" who show up at the fortress will be escorted to the dungeon.
When my Legions of Terror park their vehicle to do reconnaissance on foot, they will be instructed to employ The Club.
Employees will have conjugal visit trailers which they may use provided they call in a replacement and sign out on the timesheet. Given this, anyone caught making out in a closet while leaving their station unmonitored will be shot.
Members of my Legion of Terror will attend seminars on Sensitivity Training. It's good public relations for them to be kind and courteous to the general population when not actively engaged in sowing chaos and destruction.
I will not, under any circumstances, marry a woman I know to be a faithless, conniving, back-stabbing witch simply because I am absolutely desperate to perpetuate my family line. Of course, we can still date.
All guest-quarters will be bugged and monitored so that I can keep track of what the visitors I have for some reason allowed to roam about my fortress are actually plotting.
If my chief engineer displeases me, he will be shot, not imprisoned in the dungeon or beyond the traps he helped design.
I will not send out batalions composed wholly of robots or skeletons against heroes who have qualms about killing living beings.
I will not wear long, heavy cloaks. While they certainly make a bold fashion statement, they have an annoying tendency to get caught in doors or tripped over during an escape.
If a malignant being demands a sacrificial victim have a particular quality, I will check to make sure said victim has this quality immediately before the sacrifice and not rely on earlier results. (Especially if the quality is virginity and the victim is the hero's girlfriend.)
If I ever MUST put a digital timer on my doomsday device, I will buy one free from quantum mechanical anomalies. So many brands on the market keep perfectly good time while you're looking at them, but whenever you turn away for a couple minutes then turn back, you find that the countdown has progressed by only a few seconds.
If my Legions of Terror are defeated in a battle, I will quietly withdraw and regroup instead of launching a haphazard mission to assassinate the hero.
If I'm wearing the key to the hero's shackles around my neck and his former girlfriend now volunteers to become my mistress and we are all alone in my bedchamber on my bed and she offers me a goblet of wine, I will politely decline the offer.
I will not pick up a glowing ancient artifact and shout "It's power is now mine!!!" Instead I will grab some tongs, transfer it to a hazardous materials container, and transport it back to my lab for study.
I will be selective in the hiring of assassins. Anyone who attempt to strike down the hero the first instant his back is turned will not even be considered for the job.
Whatever my one vulnerability is, I will fake a different one. For example, ordering all mirrors removed from the palace, screaming and flinching whenever someone accidentally holds up a mirror, etc. In the climax when the hero whips out a mirror and thrusts it at my face, my reaction will be "Hmm...I think I need a shave."
My force-field generators will be located inside the shield they generate.
I reserve the right to execute any henchmen who appear to be a little too intelligent, powerful, or devious. However if I do so, I will not at some subsequent point shout "Why am I surrounded by these incompetent fools?!"
I will install a fire extinguisher in every room -- three, if the room contains vital equipment or volatile chemicals.
I will build machines which simply fail when overloaded, rather than wipe out all nearby henchmen in an explosion or worse yet set off a chain reaction. I will do this by using devices known as "surge protectors".
I will explain to my guards that most people have their eyes in the front of their heads and thus while searching for someone it makes little sense to draw a weapon and slowly back down the hallway.
I will have a staff of competent detectives handy. If I learn that someone in a certain village is plotting against me, I will have them find out who rather than wipe out the entire village in a preemptive strike.
I will never bait a trap with genuine bait.
If the hero claims he wishes to confess in public or to me personally, I will remind him that a notarized deposition will serve just as well.
If I have several diabolical schemes to destroy the hero, I will set all of them in motion at once rather than wait for them to fail and launch them successively.
I will not procrastinate regarding any ritual granting immortality.
Mythical guardians will be instructed to ask visitors name, purpose of visit, and whether they have an appointment instead of ancient riddles.
This Evil Overlord List is Copyright 1996-1997 by Peter Anspach. If you enjoy it, feel free to pass it along or post it anywhere, provided that (1) it is not altered in any way, and (2) this copyright notice is attached.
You Know You're a Writer When:
Every time you hear a song, you think of a new story or one you've already written.
You have the last chapters of a story done before even thinking of the characters names.
You often imagine your books becoming movies.
Spell check is your best friend.
You give even the smallest of characters a huge background, often mentally.
You hesitate before killing of one of your favorite characters.
You smile really big when you are going to finally write a character love scene. (Well, it depends on the character...)
Every time you read something, you make your own story of the same thing.
You'll spend an hour trying to find one word cause you won't dare use a synonym.
Not being able to write is like not being able to pee to you... you just can't hold it in for so long.
You write so fast, you leave out words in a sentence.
You have to tell at least one person your whole story before it's even written.
Things that are written badly annoy you and make you want to re-write it better.
You laugh at jokes you wrote yourself.
You can spell words like 'troublesome' but can't spell 'the' half the time.
If you are not writing or typing, your fingers are moving constantly.
You talk to yourself... constantly.
You talk to yourself about talking to yourself.
When you talk to yourself you often talk to yourself like you're talking to someone else.
When you have to write some sort of story in class, you get carried away.
You would rather die than use words like 'good' or 'nice' and etc.
You put off the last chapter of a story simply because you don't want it to end.
You start to cry when writing about a death or other depressing event you knew was coming, and you are the one writing it.
When on a roll, you will ignore hunger, sleepiness, or the urge to pee until you run out of ideas.
If a story, movie, show, etc. finishes without closure, you have a powerful need to write a suitable ending.
You like to fidget, tap, or chew on the tip of something when you are trying to come up with a new sentence, paragraph, chapter, or story.
You are in love with the thesaurus.
You dream about your stories.
You dream of new stories.
You often revisit some of your old stories.
Someone can call your name twenty times without you hearing if you're writing.
You would rather talk to the voices in your head than the person sitting next to you.
You would rather write than go out.
Your/you're and their/there/they're errors send you into an apoplectic fit.
You get cranky if you don't get to write.
You've heard/seen something, and thought, I need to write that down.
You wake up in the middle of the night and scrabble for a pen and paper you keep next to your bed to write down a scene to make the voices be quiet so you can get some sleep.
Getting the scene finished is more important than coffee, the bathroom, or food.
A blank wall becomes the screen where the scene you're writing takes place right in front of your eyes.
You can't write because you're mad at one of your characters.
Following up on the previous statement, the feeling is often mutual.
You start to laugh out loud in public at what something your character might say.
Even though you try your hardest to resist, you often correct your own grammar on IM.
You talk to yourself about talking to yourself too much.
Your family/friends have come to the ignore the habit of your talking to yourself.
You've apologized out loud to a character after doing something horrible to them.
After uttering a profound piece of wisdom like that which comes from above, you stare at the cookie in your hand with awe and say, "Wow, this stuff is great for sugar highs..."
You live off sugar and caffeine.
People think you're insane.
You think you're insane.
You check your e-mail every day of the week one week, and then disappear off the face of the earth the next.
Your e-mails tend to be pages long and incredibly random.
When replying to an e-mail, you never actually address the point of it.
No matter where you are in a room you never have to get up to find a pen/pencil and paper.
The letters on your keyboard are wearing off.
The letters on your keyboard are splattered with nail polish and/or food from all of those times you were too lazy to get up.
Your friends and family think that you have carpal tunnel syndrome.
People think you have ADD.
You think it'd be cool to have ADD.
You constantly start talking in the third person, present or past tense.
You start thinking about making lists like this and start laughing for no "apparent" reason.
Your friends stopped looking at you funny a loooooooong time ago.
However, the above does not apply to the general public.
You failed English 101.
My mom only had one eye. I hated her... She was such an embarrassment. She cooked for students and teachers to support the family. There was this one day during elementary school where my mom came to say hello to me. I was so embarrassed. How could you do this to me? I ignored her, threw her a hateful look and ran out. The next day at school one of my classmates said. ..."EEEE, your mom only ha...s one... eye!" I wanted to bury myself. I also wanted my mom to just disappear. So I confronted her that day saying, "If you are going to make me a laughing stock, why don't you just die?!" My mom did not respond... I didn't even stop to think for a second about what I had said, because I was full of anger. I was oblivious to her feelings. I wanted to be out of that house, and have nothin to do with her.
So I studied really hard, got a chance to go Singapore to study. Then I got married, I bought a house of my own. I had kids of my own. I was happy with my life, my kids and my comfort. Then one day my mother came to visit me. She hadn't seen me in years and she didn't even meet meet her grandchildren. When she stood by the door, my children laughed at her, and I yelled at her for coming over uninvited. I screamed at her, "How dare you come to my house and scare my children!"
"Get out of here! Now!!!" And to this, my mother quietly answered, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address," and she disappeared out of sight.
One dat, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my house in Singapore. So I lied to my wife that I was going on a business trip. After that reunion, I went to the old shack which was my childhood home out of curiosity. My neighbors said my mother had passed away.
I did not shed a single tear.
Then they handed me a letter that she wanted me to have:
My dearest son,
I think of you all the time. I'm sorry that I came to Singapore and scared your children. I was so glad when I heard you are coming for the reunion. But I may not be able to even get out of bed to see you. I'm sorry that I was a constant embarrassment to you when you were growing up. You see... When you were little, you got into an accident , and lost your eye.
So I gave you mine.
I was so proud of my son seeing a whole new world for me, in my place, with that eye.
With my love to you,
Pass this on if you have the heart to, or just ignore it as if you have never read this.
Fandom is focus.
Fandom is obsession.
Fandom is insatiable consumption.
Fandom is sitting for hours in front of a TV screen a movie screen a computer screen with a comic book a novel on your lap.
Fandom is eyestrain and carpal tunnel syndrome and not enough exercise and staying up way, way past your bedtime.
Fandom is people in the closet, people out and proud, people in costumes, people in T-shirts with slogans only fifty others would understand.
Fandom is a loud dinner conversation scaring the waiter and every table nearby.
Fandom is you in Germany and me in the US and him in Australia and her in Japan.
Fandom is a sofabed in New York, a roadtrip to Oxnard, a friend behind a face in London.
Fandom talks past timezones and accents and backgrounds.
Fandom is conversation.
Fandom is drama.
Fandom is melodrama.
Fandom is high school.
Fandom is Snacky's law and Godwin's law and Murphy's law.
Fandom is smarter than you.
Fandom is stupider than you.
Fandom is five arguments over and over and over again.
Fandom is the first time you've ever had them.
Fandom is female.
Fandom is male.
Fandom lets female play at being male.
Fandom bends gender, straight, gay, prude, promiscuous.
Fandom is fantasy.
Fandom doesn't care about norms or taboos or boundaries.
Fandom cares too much about norms and taboos and boundaries.
Fandom is not real life.
Fandom is closer than real life.
Fandom is shipping, never shipping, het, slash, gen, none of the above, more than the above.
Fandom is love for characters you didn't create.
Fandom is recreating the characters you didn't create.
Fandom is appropriation, subversion, dissention.
Fandom is adoration, extrapolation, imitation.
Fandom is dissection, criticism, interpretation.
Fandom is changing, experimenting, attempting.
Fandom is creating.
Fandom is drawing, painting, vidding: nine seasons in four minutes of love.
Fandom is words, language, authoring.
Fandom is essays, stories, betas, parodies, filks, zines, usenet posts, blog posts, message board posts, emails, chats, petitions, wank, concrit, feedback, recs.
Fandom is writing for the first time since you were twelve.
Fandom is finally calling yourself a writer.
Fandom is signal and response.
Fandom is a stranger moving you to tears, anger, laughter.
Fandom is you moving a stranger to speak.
Fandom is distraction.
Fandom is endangering your job, your grades, your relationships, your bank account.
Fandom gets no work done.
Fandom is too much work.
Fandom was/is just a phase.
Fandom could never be just a phase.
Fandom is where you found a friend, a sister, a kindred spirit.
Fandom is where you found a talent, a love, a reason.
Fandom is where you found yourself.
The Price of Children:
This is just too good not to pass on to all. Something absolutely positive for a change.
I have repeatedly seen the breakdown of the cost of raising a child, but this is the first time I have seen the rewards listed this way. It's nice, The government recently calculated the cost of raising a child from birth to 18 and came up with $160,140 for a middle income family. Talk about sticker shock! That doesn't even touch college tuition. But $160,140 isn't so bad if you break it down.
It translates into:
· $8,896.66 a year,
Still, you might think the best financial advice is don't have children if you want to be "rich." Actually, it is just the opposite.
What do you get for your $160,140?
Naming rights. First, middle, and last! Glimpses of God every day. Giggles under the covers every night. More love than your heart can hold. Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs. Endless wonder over rocks, ants, clouds, and warm cookies. A hand to hold, usually covered with jelly or chocolate. A partner for blowing bubbles, flying kites Someone to laugh yourself silly with, no matter what the boss said or how your stocks performed that day.
For $160,140, you never have to grow up. You get to:
finger-paint, carve pumpkins, play hide-and-seek, catch lightning bugs, and never stop believing in Santa Claus. You have an excuse to: keep reading the Adventures of Piglet and Pooh, watching Saturday morning cartoons, going to Disney movies, and wishing on stars. You get to frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under refrigerator magnets and collect spray painted noodle wreaths for Christmas, hand prints set in clay for Mother's Day, and cards with backward letters for Father's Day.
For $160,140, there is no greater bang for your buck. You get to be a hero just for:
retrieving a Frisbee off the garage roof, taking the training wheels off a bike, removing a splinter, filling a wading pool, coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and coaching a baseball team that never wins but always gets treated to ice cream regardless.
You get a front row seat to history to witness the:
· first step,
You get to be immortal. You get another branch added to your family tree, and if you're lucky, a long list of limbs in your obituary called grandchildren and great grandchildren. You get an education in psychology, nursing, criminal justice, communications, and human sexuality that no college can match.
In the eyes of a child, you rank right up there under God. You have all the power to heal a boo-boo, scare away the monsters under the bed, patch a broken heart, police a slumber party, ground them forever, and love them without limits.
And... one day they will, like you, love without counting the cost. That is quite a deal for the price!!
Love & enjoy your children & grandchildren!!
The white man said, "Colored people are not allowed here."
The black man turned around and stood up. He then said: "Listen sir...when I was born I was black. When I grew up I was black. When I'm sick I'm black. When I go in the sun I'm black. When I'm cold I'm black. When I die I'll be black.
The black man then sat back down and the white man walked away...
COPY AND PASTE THIS IF YOU HATE RACISM!!!
Another awesome thing against racism:
This happened on TAM airlines.
A 50-something year old white woman arrived at her seat and saw that the passenger next to her was a black man.
Visibly furious, she called the air hostess.
"What's the problem, ma'am?" the hostess asked her
"Can't you see?" the lady said, "I was given a seat next to a black man. I can't seat here next to him. You have to change my seat!"
"Please, calm down, ma'am," said the hostess. "Unfortunately, all the seats are occupied, but I'm still going to check if we have any."
The hostess left and returned some minutes later.
"Ma'am, as I told you, there aren't any empty seats in this class –– economy class. I spoke to the captain and he confirmed that there isn't any empty seats in the economy class. We only have seats in the first class."
And before the woman said anything, the hostess continued.
"Look, it is unusual for our company to allow a passenger from the economy class change to the first class.
And turning to the black man, the hostess said,
"Which means, sir, if you would be so nice to pack your handbag, we have reserved you a seat in the first class..."
And all the passengers nearby, who were shocked to see the scene, started applauding, some standing on their feet.
COPY AND PASTE IF YOU'RE AGAINST RACISM!!!
Women constitute half
of the world's populaton,
of its work hours,
of the world's income,
of the world's property.
If you're a girl and hate it when boys look down on you because of your gender then copy and paste this into your profile.
If you're a boy who thinks that women are equal in worth to men and not afraid to show it then copy and paste this into your profile.
Bullying—A Global Problem
“If you come to school tomorrow, we’ll kill you.”—A Canadian student named Kristen received that telephone threat from an unidentified female caller.*
“I am not an emotional person, but I got to the point of not wanting to go to school. My stomach hurt, and every morning after breakfast, I threw up.”—Hiromi, a teenage student in Japan, recalls her experience with bullying.
HAVE you ever had to deal with a bully? Most of us have at one time or another. It may have been at school or in the workplace, or it may even have occurred right at home—where such abuse of power is played out with alarming frequency these days. A British source, for instance, estimates that 53 percent of adults are verbally bullied by a spouse or a live-in partner. Bullies and their victims may be of either gender and from any walk of life in any part of the world.*Bullying among school-age children occurs worldwide. A survey published in Pediatrics in Review reveals that in Norway, 14 percent of children are either bullies or victims. In Japan, 15 percent of primary school pupils say that they are bullied, while in Australia and Spain, the problem prevails among 17 percent of students. In Britain one expert figures that 1.3 million children are involved in bullying.
A recent survey in Britain indicated that when children are subjected to severe bullying, they are nearly seven times as likely to attempt suicide. The emotional pain that these children suffer is real. A 13-year-old boy who hanged himself left behind a note naming five people who had tormented him and had even extorted money from him. “Please save other children,” he wrote.
Bullying has to stop!
Copy and paste this into your profile if you agree and want to see change!!!
One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, 'Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd.' I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him.
So, I jogged over to him as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, 'Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives.'
He looked at me and said, 'Hey, thanks!'
There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before.
We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends. He said yes. We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him.
Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, 'Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!' He just laughed and handed me half the books.
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown and I was going to Duke.
I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor and I was going for business on a football scholarship. Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.
Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him. Boy, sometimes I was jealous!
Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, 'Hey, big guy, you'll be great!' He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. 'Thanks,' he said.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began, 'Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach... but mostly your friends... I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story.' I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home.
He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. 'Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.' I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment.
I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize it's depth.
Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. God puts us all in each others lives to impact one another in some way. Whatever force might will the heavens into existence and preside over us all, be it God, Allah, Yahweh, or simply a unifying force (personally I believe the first), we were made for a purpose. And despite what might unbalance you in your life, despite what might make you feel unwanted for unneeded — chances are you had an impact like this. The kid you passed in the store and said, "Hey, nice shirt" too might have gotten the spirit to stand up to his abusive stepfather or bullies at his school. Or maybe the Shaolin instructor you always laughed at his jokes might have been a dark, abused child whose only solace was the art, and then his family.
If you're considering suicide, or running a dagger over your wrist, you feel isolated and meaningless. But you want to know something? Everyone feels isolated and meaningless. There are over 7,000,000,000 people on this planet, and at one time or another, they all feel like the rest of the world is out there to spite them. Do you know what this world would be like if that were true? If everyone human soul who thought they were worth nothing killed themselves?
We wouldn't exist.
I'm not the first to admit this race has fallen. There was a time when a solemn handshake was an unbreakable vow of trust. Now even marriage is treated as though it is not sacred. But there are shining examples of the human race still left in this world.
God places his angels strategically. The day I honestly had a knife to my chest was the day an old friend called me up and said, "Hey, no clue if you remember me, but we were friends and you really helped me with my grades." The day when I couldn't help but feel undying contempt for my parents was the day I found a familiar author on this site who, once again, saved my soul. The day I felt like I couldn't change anything was the day someone sent me a review telling me that they were going to keep breathing. There are numerous other examples, but they are all true.
God knew that you would have those thoughts, and the purpose you are meant to fulfill must be fulfilled. Thus, He sends well-chosen people to help and guide you. Sometimes, they're the smile on the street. Sometimes, they're the freaky fanfiction author who randomly PM's you and tells you her life story. Sometimes they're a butterfly that lands on your nose, and sometimes they're even subtler than that.
Look for them.
You now have two choices.
You can either:
1. Put this on your profile.
2. Forget you read this and act like it didn't touch your heart.
As you can see, I took choice number 1.
"Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly." -Author Unknown
You stay up for 16 hours.
You take a warm shower to help you wake up.
You complain of a 'headache' and call in sick.
You talk about your buddies that aren't with you.
You complain about how hot it is.
You get mad at your waiter for getting your order wrong.
You're mad that class got held over 5 minutes.
You roll your eyes when your baby cries.
Copy and paste this if you support your country's (or any country's) troops.
Her hair was up in a pony tail, her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy's Day at school, and she couldn't wait to go.
But her mommy tried to tell her, that she probably should stay home.
Why the kids might not understand, if she went to school alone.
But she was not afraid; she knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates of why he wasn't there today.
But still her mother worried, for her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again, she tried to keep her daughter home.
But the little girl went to school eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees; a dad who never calls.
There were daddies along the wall in back, for everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently, anxious in their seats.
One by one the teacher called a student from the class.
To introduce their daddy, as seconds slowly passed.
At last the teacher called her name, every child turned to stare.
Each of them was searching, for a man who wasn't there.
"Where's her daddy at?" she heard a boy call out.
"She probably doesn't have one," another student dared to shout.
And from somewhere near the back, she heard a daddy say,
"Looks like another deadbeat dad, too busy to waste his day."
The words did not offend her, she smiled up at her Mom
And looked back at her teacher, who told her to go on.
And with hands behind her back, slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child, came words incredibly unique.
"My Daddy couldn't be here, because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be, since this is such a special day.
And though you cannot meet him, I wanted you to know.
All about my daddy, and how much he loves me so.
He loved to tell me stories, he taught me to ride my bike.
He surprised me with pink roses, and taught me to fly a kite.
We used to share fudge sundaes, and ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him, I'm not standing here alone.
'Cause my daddy's always with me, even though we are apart;
I know because he told me, he'll forever be in my heart."
With that, her little hand reached up, and lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat, beneath her favorite dress.
And from somewhere in the crowd of dads, her mother stood in tears.
Proudly watching her daughter, who was wise beyond her years.
For she stood up for the love of a man not in her life.
Doing what was best for her, doing what was right.
And when she dropped her hand back down, staring straight into the crowd.
She finished with a voice so soft, but its message clear and loud.
"I love my daddy very much, he's my shining star.
And if he could, he'd be here, but heaven's just too far.
You see he was a fireman and died just this past year
When airplanes hit the towers and taught Americans to fear.
But sometimes when I close my eyes, it's like he never went away."
And then she closed her eyes, and saw him there that day.
And to her mother's amazement, she witnessed with surprise.
A room full of daddies and children, all starting to close their eyes.
Who knows what they saw before them, who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for merely a second, they saw him at her side.
"I know you're with me Daddy," to the silence she called out.
And what happened next made believers, of those once filled with doubt.
Not one in that room could explain it, for each of their eyes had been closed.
But there on the desk beside her, was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.
And a child was blessed, if only for a moment, by the love of her shining star.
And given the gift of believing, that heaven is never too far.
Every abortion is . . .
If you're against abortion, re-post this.
Don't be afraid to cry.
If you are like me and think abortions are cruel, wrong, and should become illegal, copy and paste this into your profile. No child deserves to die.
This poem was sent to me by an anonymous Guest reviewer, who went through this very pain as a child and dealt with it by writing about it and summoning up the courage to send it to me. Thank you, whoever you are, and God bless.
I was volunteering in a first grade classroom.
I was working with a little boy
Who had cuts and bruises on his face.
We were working on drawing a picture of a sea animal they would like to be.
He said he would want to be a crab.
I asked him why and he said
So that I
In a safe
Repost if you're against child abuse
Don't be afraid to cry
Mummy...Johnny brought a gun to school
He told his friends that it was cool
And when he pulled the trigger back
It shot with a great crack
Mummy I was a good girl
I did what I was told
I went to school, I got straight A's, I even got the gold
But mummy when I went to school that day, I never said goodbye
I'm sorry mummy I had to go, but mommy please don't cry
When Johnny shot the gun he hit me and another
And all because he got the gun from his older brother
Mummy please tell daddy that I love him very much
And please tell Chris, my boyfriend, that it wasn't just a crush
And tell my little sister that she is the only one now
And tell my dear sweet grandmother that I'll be waiting for her now
And tell my wonderful friends that they were always the best
Mummy I'm not the first I'm no better than the rest
Mummy tell my teachers I won't show up for class
And never to forget this and please don't let this pass
Mummy why'd it have to be me no one deserves this
Mummy warn the others, mummy I left without a kiss
And mummy tell the doctors I know they really did try
I think I even saw a doctor trying not to cry
Mummy I'm slowly dying with a bullet in my chest
But mummy please remember I'm in heaven with the rest
Mummy I ran as fast as I could when I heard that crack
Mummy listen to me if you would
I wanted to go to college
I wanted to try things that were new
I guess I'm not going with daddy
On that trip to the new zoo
I wanted to get married
I wanted to have a kid
I wanted to be an actress
Mummy I wanted to live
But mummy I must go now
The time is getting late
Mummy tell my Chris I'm sorry but I had to cancel the date
I love you mummy I always have I know you know it's true
Mummy all I wanted to say is "mummy I love you"
In memory of all of the students that have been lost
Please if you would
Pass this around
I'd be happy if you could
Don't smash this on the ground
If you pass this on
Maybe people will cry
Just keep this in heart
For the people that didn't get to say goodbye
Now you have two choices
2) ignore it
Please just copy and paste this on to your profile and show that you care
Twas' eleven days before Christmas, around 9:38,
When twenty beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate.
Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air,
They could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.
They were filled with joy, they didn't know what to say,
They remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.
"Where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
"This is heaven." declared a small boy.
"We're spending Christmas at God's house."
When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But Jesus, their Savior, the children gathered near.
He looked at them and smiled, and the smiled just the same.
Then He opened His arms and He called them by name.
And in that moment was joy, that only Heaven can bring,
Those children all flew into the arms of their King,
And as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
One small girl turned and looked at Jesus's face.
And as if He could read all the questions she had,
He gently whispered to her,
"I'll take care of Mom and Dad."
Then He looked down on earth, the world far below,
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe.
Then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
"Let My power and presence re-enter this land!
May this country be delivered from the hands of fools,
I'm taking back My nation. I'm taking back My schools!"
Then He and the children stood up without a sound.
"Come now, my children, let me show you around."
Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran,
All displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
And I heard HIm proclaim as He walked out of sight,
"In the midst of this darkness,
I AM STILL THE LIGHT."
–– Written by Cameo Smith, Mt. Wolf, PA
I just had two birds to sing for you. I warm you with the clothing of My sunshine and perfume the air with nature's sweet scent. My love for you is deeper than the ocean and greater than any need in your heart. If you'd only realize how I care. I died just for you.
My Dad sends His love. I want you to meet Him. He cares,too. Fathers are just that way. So please call Me soon. No matter how long it takes, I'll wait because I love you.
Repost these verses if you truly believe what they say.
"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." –– John 3:16-17
"He then brought them out and asked, 'Sirs, what must I do to be saved?'
"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith –– and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God –– not by works so that no one can boast." –– Ephesians 2: 8-9
98% of Christian teens will not stand up for God, and 93% of the people that read this won't repost it. Will you be part of the 2 and 7 percent? Don't just ignore this, because in the Bible Jesus says, "If you deny me, I will deny you in front of my Father in the gates of Heaven."
Why do we sleep in church, but stay awake through a two-hour movie?
Why is it so hard to talk about God, but so easy to talk about others?
Why are we so bored when we look at a Christian magazine, but find it easy to read Playboy?
Why is it so easy to ignore a godly Facebook wall post, yet we repost the nasty ones?
Why are churches getting smaller, but bars and clubs getting larger?
Think about it.
Mary had a little Lamb, His fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went, that Lamb was sure to go.
He followed her to school each day, t'wasn't even in the rule.
It made the children laugh and play, to have a Lamb at school.
And then the rules all changed one day, illegal it became;
To bring the Lamb of God to school, or even speak His name!
Every day got worse and worse, and days turned into years.
Instead of hearing children laugh, we heard gunshots and tears.
What must we do to stop the crime that's in our schools today?
Let's let the Lamb come back to school, and teach our kids to pray.
He had no servants, yet they called him Master
He had no degree, yet they called him Teacher
He had no medicine, yet they called him Healer
He had no army, yet kings feared him
He won no military battles, yet he conquered the world
He committed no crime, yet they crucified him
He was buried in a tomb, yet he lives today
He is my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ
I was walking around in a Target store, when I saw a cashier hand a little boy some money back.
The boy couldn't have been more than five or six years old.
The cashier said, "I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll."
Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him, ''Granny, are you sure I don't have enough money?''
The old lady replied, ''You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear.''
Then she asked him to stay there for just five minutes while she went to look around. She left quickly.
The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.
Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give this doll to.
"It's the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for Christmas. She was sure that Santa Clause would bring it for her."
I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus would bring it to her after all, and not to worry.
But he replied to me sadly. "No, Santa Claus can't bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there."
His eyes were so sad while saying this. "My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister."
My heart nearly stopped.
The little boy looked up at me and said: "I told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall."
Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me, "I want mommy to take my picture with her so she won't forget me. I love my mommy and I wish she wouldn't have to leave me, but daddy says she has to go be with my little sister."
Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.
I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy. "Suppose we check again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll?"
"Okay," he said, "I hope I do have enough." I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll and even some spare money.
The little boy said: "Thank you God for giving me enough money!"
Then he looked at me and added, "I asked last night before I went to sleep for God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll, so that mommy could give it to my sister. He heard me!
"I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn't dare to ask God for too much. But he gave me enough to buy the doll and a white rose.
"My mommy loves white roses."
A few minutes later, the old lady returned and I left with my basket.
I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started.
I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind.
Then I remembered a local news paper article two days ago, which mentioned a drunk man in a truck, who hit a car occupied by a young woman and a little girl.
The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-sustaining machine, because the young woman would not be able to recover from the coma.
Was this the family of the little boy?
Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper that the young woman had passed away.
I couldn't stop myself as I bought a bunch of white roses and I went to the funeral home where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wishes before her burial.
She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest.
I left the place, teary-eyed, feeling that my life had been changed forever. The love that the little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to this day, hard to imagine.
And in a fraction of a second, a drunk driver had taken all this away from him.
Now you have 2 choices:
1) Repost this message, or
2) Ignore it as if it never touched your heart.
I believe in Jesus Christ as my Lord, Savior, and Redeemer, and could not live without him in my life. If you do too, and aren't afraid to admit it, copy and paste this into your profile, and add your name to the list. Kakashis-First-Kiss, jedigal125, iloveJacobandJasper, Vampirewithasecret, Lacey-The-Invisible-Ninja, James018, AdorableElephant, MelRose520, I am an Anonymous Person, Mango21, mae2551, DarkHorseBlueSky
Without God, our week would be:
Seven days without God will make one weak.
When you carry a Bible, the devil gets a headache.
When you open it, he collapses.
When he sees you reading it, he faints.
When he sees you living it, he flees.
And just when you’re about to re-post this, he will try to discourage you.
I just defeated him.
Like, Copy, & Paste this if you’re in God's Army :)
One night I had a dream...
I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord, and
I also noticed that it happened at the very lowest
The Lord replied, "My precious, precious
Someone asked me once, "What do I do if I feel like nobody loves me for who I am?"
Their words got me thinking. I knew what they were going through — I’d felt that way myself quite a few times. I understood. I’d been rejected, ignored, even hated by people I’ve known my whole life. I still am. I began to think that I couldn't answer.
But then I remembered — I have been loved. I am loved. I will always be loved.
Here, I’ll be honest with you.
He’s the greatest guy in the world — literally. I love him and he loves me, but what I’m most amazed with is that even when I don’t love him — when I ignore him for the sake of doing “more important things”, when I break down and scream at him, when I start to wonder if or when he’ll answer my calls, when I demand why, why is he letting me go through all this fear and doubt if he truly loves me — he doesn’t turn away. He never hesitates to listen when I call — in fact, he waits just for me to talk to him, even if he doesn’t answer at first. When I start to think he’s left me to walk the trail alone, I realize that he’s carrying me. Even when I’m at my lowest, when I’ve thrown everything I’ve got at him, when I’m dirty, imperfect, hateful…he still loves me.
It’s true what they say — love must be blind. He’s still by my side when all the things I’ve done have left him bleeding.*
His father loves me too. He can’t wait for the day when I come home to live with his son.
He does everything for me. He comforts me when I’m afraid. He listens to my silent cries and midnight rants, and when he thinks the time is perfect, he surprises me by making everything better. When I saw the review waiting in my email inbox, he smiled, told me, “You know what to say” and helped me when I got stuck. He’s given me a home, a family, a future.
He gave me life.
He gave his own so I wouldn’t have to die.
He defeated death and came back for me.
His name is Jesus Christ, and He is my Savior.
Think of me however you wish; I don’t care. I’m not ashamed. When you love someone — truly, truly love them — and they love you back even more than you love them, why should you keep your love a secret?
I know what you’re thinking right now: “That’s not what I meant. I meant love with a boy, someone I could spend my life with. Not some white-robed figure I can’t see, hear, or feel.”
I have nothing against that kind of love. What I’m trying to tell you is that you don’t have to feel worthless. Because you’re not. Even though you might not be able to see Him, hear His voice, or feel His hand, there is Someone out there who loves you for who you are, for who He is. He’ll never abandon you. He wants to be with you. He wants to save you. He’s knocking at your door right now, waiting for you to let Him in.
He’s asking you to say “Yes”. Yes, I will follow You. Yes, I will devote my life to You. Yes, I want to be with You forever and I will give everything I have to be with You.
It’s the most He could do to die for us. It’s the least we can do to live for Him.
I’ve made that decision. I’ve said yes and I know that when I die my physical death, I can live the eternity of my spiritual life with Him. I’m waiting now, I’m ready to be with Him, face to face. That’s why I don’t fear death.
I’m scarred, I’m dirty, I’m sinful beyond imagination. And yet still He came for me, willing to pay the debt that I and everyone else owed. He suffered and died because of what we’ve done.
And yet He still loves us. He pushed aside death and came back to life, just to wash us of our flaws so we can be with Him.
Once again, I will say that I have nothing against love with a boy. But, once again, I will stress that it’s not the best you can have. I myself have not yet found the man with whom I will spend my physical life, but I know that when God thinks it’s time, He’ll send the right guy. And if not, then I’m okay with that. I’m satisfied in knowing that out there, there is Someone who loves me with everything He has. Someone who doesn’t care about my looks, my clothes, what I own or what I can give Him. Someone who proves to me that I’m not worthless. Someone who pays my passage into His Kingdom with His own life.
And that, I believe, is the best and most important kind of love you can have.
Lyrics from “Undone” by FFH.
A man was walking on an old, shaky bridge.
He prayed for help and saw God on the other side.
He asked God to come near him and help him cross.
But God didn't come.
The man got angry and with great difficulty, he crossed the shaky bridge to confront God.
To his surprise, when he reached the other side,
He saw God holding the broken bridge.
God's ways are always better and more amazing than ours.
A woman received a call that her daughter was sick.
She hurried to the pharmacy to get medication, got back to her car and found that she had locked her keys inside.
The woman found an old rusty coat hanger left on the ground. She looked at it and said "I don't know how to use this to help."
She bowed her head and asked God to send her some help
Within five minutes a beat-up old motorcycle pulled up, driven by a bearded man who was wearing an old biker skull rag.
He got off of his cycle and asked if he could help. She said: "Yes, my daughter is sick. I've locked my keys in my car. I must get home. Please, can you use this hanger to unlock my car?"
He said "Sure." He walked over to the car, and in less than a minute the car was open.
She hugged the man and through tears said "Thank you SO much! You are a very nice man."
The man said "Lady, I am NOT a nice man. I just got out of PRISON yesterday. I was in prison for car theft."
The woman hugged the man again sobbing, "Oh, thank you, God! You even sent me a professional!"
Is GOD GREAT or what!? :)
From a MATHEMATICAL Viewpoint: What equals 100 percent in life? Here's a little formula that might help you answer these Questions:
If: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Is represented as: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26
Then: H-A-R-D-W-O-R- K (8118423151811) = 98 percent
and K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E (11141523125475) = 96 percent
But, A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E (120209202145) = 100 percent
AND, look how far the love of God will take you: L-O-V-E- O-F -G-O-D (12152251567154) = 101 percent.
Therefore, one can conclude with mathematical certainty that: While Hard work and Knowledge will get you close, and Attitude will get you there, it's the Love of God that will put you over the top!
A science professor begins his school year with a lecture to the students: "Let me explain the problem science has with religion."
The atheist professor of philosophy pauses before his class and then asks one of his new students to stand.
"You're a Christian, aren't you, son?"
"Yes, sir," the student says.
"So you believe in God?"
"Is God good?"
"Sure! God's good."
"Is God all-powerful? Can God do anything?"
Now the professor asks, "Are you good or evil?"
"The Bible says I'm evil," replies the student.
The professor grins knowingly.
"Aha! The Bible!" He considers for a moment. "Here's one for you. Let's say there's a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help him? Would you try?"
"Yes, sir, I would."
"So you're good…!"
"I wouldn't say that."
"But why not say that? You'd help a sick and maimed person if you could. Most of us would if we could. But God doesn't."
The student does not answer, so the professor continues. "He doesn't, does he? My brother was a Christian who died of cancer, even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him. How is this Jesus good? Hmmm? Can you answer that one?"
The student remains silent.
"No, you can't, can you?" the professor says. He takes a sip of water from a glass on his desk to give the student time to relax.
"Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?"
"Er… yes," the student says.
"Is Satan good?"
The student doesn't hesitate on this one. "No."
"Then where does Satan come from?"
The student falters. "From God," he answers after a few moments.
"That's right. God made Satan, didn't he? Tell me, son. Is there evil in this world?"
"Evil's everywhere, isn't it? And God did make everything, correct?"
"So who created evil?" The professor continued, "If God created everything, then God created evil, since evil exists, and according to the principle that our works define who we are, then God is evil."
Again, the student has no answer. "Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things, do they exist in this world?"
The student squirms on his feet. "Yes."
"So who created them?"
The student does not answer again, so the professor repeats his question. "Who created them?" There is still no answer. Suddenly the lecturer breaks away to pace in front of the classroom. The class is mesmerized. "Tell me," he continues onto another student. "Do you believe in Jesus Christ, son?"
The student's voice betrays him and cracks. "Yes, professor, I do."
The old man stops pacing. "Science says you have five senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Have you ever seen Jesus?"
"No, sir. I've never seen Him."
"Then tell us if you've ever heard your Jesus?"
"No, sir, I have not."
"Have you ever felt your Jesus, tasted your Jesus or smelt your Jesus? Have you ever had any sensory perception of Jesus Christ, or God for that matter?"
"No, sir, I'm afraid I haven't."
"Yet you still believe in him?"
"According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?"
"Nothing," the student replies. "I only have my faith."
"Yes, faith," the professor repeats. "And that is the problem science has with God. There is no evidence, only faith."
The student stands quietly for a moment, before asking a question of his own. "Professor, is there such thing as heat?"
"Yes," the professor replies. "There's heat."
"And is there such a thing as cold?"
"Yes, son, there's cold too."
"No, sir, there isn't."
The professor turns to face the student, obviously interested. The room suddenly becomes very quiet. The student begins to explain. "You can have lots of heat, even more heat, super-heat, mega-heat, unlimited heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat, but we don't have anything called 'cold'. We can hit up to 458 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold; otherwise we would be able to go colder than the lowest, minus 458 degrees.
"Every body or object is susceptible to study when it has or transmits energy, and heat is what makes a body or matter have or transmit energy. Absolute zero (-458 F) is the total absence of heat. You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it."
Silence across the room. A pen drops somewhere in the classroom, sounding like a hammer.
"What about darkness, professor? Is there such a thing as darkness?"
"Yes," the professor replies without hesitation. "What is night if it isn't darkness?"
"You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is not something; it is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light, but if you have no light constantly you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? That's the meaning we use to define the word.
"In reality, darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn't you?"
The professor begins to smile at the student in front of him. This will be a good semester. "So what point are you making, young man?"
"Yes, professor. My point is, your philosophical premise is flawed to start with, and so your conclusion must also be flawed."
The professor's face cannot hide his surprise this time. "Flawed? Can you explain how?"
"You are working on the premise of duality," the student explains. "You argue that there is life and then there's death; a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure.
"Sir, science can't explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, just the absence of it.
"Now tell me, professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?"
"If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, young man, yes, of course I do."
"Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?"
The professor begins to shake his head, still smiling, as he realizes where the argument is going. A very good semester, indeed.
"Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an ongoing endeavour, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you now not a scientist, but a preacher?"
The class is in uproar. The student remains silent until the commotion has subsided.
"To continue the point you were making earlier to the other student, let me give you an example of what I mean."
The student looks around the room. "Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the professor's brain?" The class breaks out into laughter.
"Is there anyone here who has ever heard the professor's brain, felt the professor's brain, touched or smelt the professor's brain? No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain, with all due respect, sir."
"So if science says you have no brain, how can we trust your lectures, sir?"
Now the room is silent. The professor just stares at the student, his face unreadable.
Finally, after what seems an eternity, the old man answers. "I guess you'll have to take them on faith."
"Now, you accept that there is faith, and, in fact, faith exists with life," the student continues. "Now, sir, is there such a thing as evil?"
Now uncertain, the professor responds, "Of course, there is. We see it every day. It is in the daily example of man's inhumanity to man. It is in the multitude of crime and violence everywhere in the world. These manifestations are nothing else but evil."
To this the student replied, "Evil does not exist, sir, or at least it does not exist unto itself. Evil is simply the absence of God. It is just like darkness and cold, a word that man has created to describe the absence of God. God did not create evil. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have God's love present in his heart. It's like the cold that comes when there is no heat or the darkness that comes when there is no light."
The professor sat down.
Really Random Joke:
A man went out to buy a horse. He found one that he liked, but then the man who was selling the horse said, "This horse is special. This horse is a Christian horse."
"How so?" asked the man.
"Well," explained the seller, "when you want him to go, you have to say 'praise the Lord'. And when you want him to stop, you have to say 'amen'."
"Okay," said the man, and paid for the horse.
When he went home to ride the horse, he got on. "Giddyup!" he said, but nothing happened. Then he remembered the horse seller's words, and then said to the horse, "Praise the Lord."
Immediately the horse took off in a gallop. The man hung on for dear life as the horse sped away, and gasped when he saw a steep, high cliff fast approaching. "Whoa!" he shouted. The horse just kept going. Then the man remembered what the horse seller had said, and commanded the horse, "Amen!"
The horse skidded to a stop a mere two feet away from the cliff's edge. The man was so overjoyed that, without thinking, he shouted, "Praise the Lord!"
If you've gotten to this point and have read my entire profile, then kudos to you.
Don't read any further, unless you dare.