like a drunk cobra only worse
With my day off, I did what any normal college student does. I cleaned my entire house and got a week ahead in Democracy. Yay for my life! But the house was empty and I got to play Alivest on the big TV for once. Which means I got to dance around with a mop as hide rocked on the screen.
*coughgeekcough*
BleuRaindrops: i think it caught them off gaurd
xxDaftLikeJackxx: like a cobra
xxDaftLikeJackxx: i saw a guy kiss a cobra on the head the other day
xxDaftLikeJackxx: it was pretty neat
BleuRaindrops: O_o
BleuRaindrops: lol
xxDaftLikeJackxx: ...and that holds no relevance whatsoever
BleuRaindrops: nope =)
See, I'm starting to learn XD
And ph33r the icon blacknoodles made me!
Anywho, should be studying for midterm. But thats boring and this is better:
Title: Bottled Courage
Team: Schwarz
Word Count: 100
Characters: Crawford, Schuldig
The door of his office slammed open and Crawford looked up, cursing the fact that he hadn’t locked it when he had the chance. Mentally calculating how long this would take, the oracle sat back and watched his form of entertainment.
“Crawford, we need to talk.” The resident telepath strut, or swayed really, into the room and slammed his palms on the mahogany desk. “I demand a raise.”
One black eyebrow arched. “A raise?” An affirmative nod was his reply. “Schuldig, are you high?”
“Drunk. On power.”
The other eyebrow joined the first. “Power…”
“…and vodka.”
“Schuldig, go to bed.”
*coughgeekcough*
BleuRaindrops: i think it caught them off gaurd
xxDaftLikeJackxx: like a cobra
xxDaftLikeJackxx: i saw a guy kiss a cobra on the head the other day
xxDaftLikeJackxx: it was pretty neat
BleuRaindrops: O_o
BleuRaindrops: lol
xxDaftLikeJackxx: ...and that holds no relevance whatsoever
BleuRaindrops: nope =)
See, I'm starting to learn XD
And ph33r the icon blacknoodles made me!
Anywho, should be studying for midterm. But thats boring and this is better:
Title: Bottled Courage
Team: Schwarz
Word Count: 100
Characters: Crawford, Schuldig
The door of his office slammed open and Crawford looked up, cursing the fact that he hadn’t locked it when he had the chance. Mentally calculating how long this would take, the oracle sat back and watched his form of entertainment.
“Crawford, we need to talk.” The resident telepath strut, or swayed really, into the room and slammed his palms on the mahogany desk. “I demand a raise.”
One black eyebrow arched. “A raise?” An affirmative nod was his reply. “Schuldig, are you high?”
“Drunk. On power.”
The other eyebrow joined the first. “Power…”
“…and vodka.”
“Schuldig, go to bed.”