LeeLee

:XD: :XD: :XD: :XD: :XD: :XD: :XD: :XD: :XD: :XD: koooooooooooooooooooooool its great to be back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GREASE, obviously.

the thing i find annoying is that the censoring is starting to become funny. Its almost like a feature, its so elaborate. On a show a while ago, there was a woman who was reciting a rap made for fifty cent and the censored swearing played an ascending scale, whilst the censor that covered her mouth exploded at the end of her speech. I think that's the thing that is stupid despite being kind of entertaining.

i like... scrubs friends simpsons ugly betty born and bred hustle anything weird I hate top gear. I don't really know why.

i'm not sure i haven'y tried spreading myself on toast yet........ but it sounds like a much better way to occupy an afternoon than history homework. :D I'm don't post in off-topic much, so maybe thats why you think i'm a cousin of some sort of jam, i post stuff mostly in the varrock library. thankyou for posting on our thread! :D its really cool that some of you guessed why we're temporarily leaving.

Thankyou very very much :D: on behalf of me and issy.

silly presumption, not that you wouldn't write long pieces of writing.

nope, try again, there's a constant order, for example: issy, lee,issy,lee etc. But i suppose its Theres a reason why the last paragraph is why it is. :D try and guess

See if you can guess which paragraphs are by who and whats so special about the last one. Sorry to all those about to be bemused. By issy2 and Leelee 15 Mauve bouncy balls all bounced merrily down the street. One of the balls smashed into an overflowing dustbin and rolled into the gutter. With a cry of triumph a raven soaring overhead snatched up the ball in its beak and carried it far away to the lands of Wisadafortis where it lived out the rest of its days in peace and prosperity. Another one of the balls went on happily for a while before coming across a large barrel of enticingly sweet looking ginger beer, about to be wheeled into the country pub down the lane. Whilst contemplating the downsides of taking a bath in such a sweet elixir, it suddenly found itself with no choice, but to hop inside. For the local butcher boy, who was in the habit of running errands for people, was about to take the barrel into the pub himself. More later The third of the mauve balls had also found a barrel of beer, and was thoroughly enjoying slurping the foamy liquid. When his (or her, as the case may be) thirst has been fully quenched he bounced back out into the road, wobbling slightly. However not all was well, when he was transfixed by the image of a car roaring up the hill towards him. The ball exploded beneath the power of the carÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s wheel, and the poor thing was never seen again. And that, dear friend, is why you donÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t drink-bounce. The 4th ball was enjoying the picturesque scenery that played its course alongside the rest of the village as beautifully and loyally as the mingling sounds of the piccolo and the flute. Whilst musing on this wonderful sight, it began to lose track of where it was going and found itself rolling at a horrific speed towards a small girls skipping rope, at this moment un-used. The collision was monumental to the small ball. He was so caught up in tangles of glitter rope that he didnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t notice his sister careering down the hill beside him. The fifth ball, unfortunately for his poor self, had suffered a terrible fear of heights for his whole life, ever since he had been melted together in the toy factory many miles away. Tensing up his small round, mauve body the ball suddenly found himself stuck behind the wheel of an ancient green and brown Austin Martin. Breathing a great sigh of relief he propelled himself out of the tricky situation and, to his horror, was once more hopping down the road, squealing. The sixth ball, a sister of the for mentioned ball, who was at this moment to caught up in his own unfortunate predicament, to do anything to prevent his sisterÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s from taking hold. The sister herself was headed for a large and uninviting mud hole that took up most of the road that both balls were rolling down. She, I can now tell you, ladies and gentleman has not forgotten the humiliation of being forced to wear a smelly suit of quagmire that oozed through every fiber of her rubber exterior. It till this day had been one of her most embarrassing and memorably awful moments of her career as an entertainer of small and naÃÆÃâÃâïve to the sins of mud, children. The seventh ball, an old, crusty gentlemen of, as he was constantly barking out to anyone who would listen, ancient and aristocratic lineage, was most shocked at the indignity of being flung down a road, at the mercy of the laws of nature. He decided to keep his mouth shut. If he must keep hold of any composure he must suffer in silence. Harrumphing under his breath he found himself outside the very country pub which the third ball had been forced into. Well, every cloud had a silver lining, he decided, and his would be a good long drink of gin and tonic and a good kip in front of the crackling fire. The eighth ball was a young and mysteriously talented (in the field of hoola-hooping), female with a careless disposition that had been her downfall in many a previous occasion. However in this instance it came about that she would soon be indulging in a spot of luck, as she went a rolling towards a handsome fate. It was on that day that she met her one true love. A charismatic young tennis ball with a fiery pocket of talent and a great desire to beat the reigning champion and king of the court, the wondrous Vince Volley. He spotted the keen little girl a mile off and took her in, to her utmost pleasure. They have lived happily together ever since, and after the husband had acquired a spouse he never endeavoured to seek the trophy he had longed for, for so long. The ninth ball, a young and childish girl fresh from the factory, was loving her first long-distance Bounce. Propelling herself off the tarmac she wondered wistfully about enrolling for the International Bounce Championships the next year. Never running out of her childish energy, the ball carried on bouncing for the rest of her life. The tenth ball ran abruptly into the gauzy depths of a prised and tenderly clipped laurel bush. The ball chocked on the chunk of a snail shell and DIED OF SUFFOCATION. The eleventh ball was both bemused and confused at his current situation. Blinking the dust from his eyes he flipped over and over in the air, finally giving in to an unbearable headache. The twelfth ball fell in love with a jar of apple compote. This was not to his advantage, as when he appealed to the jar for the sanctions of a wedded couple. It blew itself up in the wild hope that the ball might leave her alone, after being put off by flying shards of glass and seemingly masticated fruit. The thirteenth ball, a small and nervous ball, was terrified at finding himself careering down the hill at a terrific speed, and promptly smashed into a wall. The ball was soon chewed up by a sniffy Labrador looking for a game. The fourteenth ball died. It will be remembered and sorely missed by all. The fifteenth ball drank some puddle water and was then struck by a sudden bolt of lightning. He has turned immortal and shall live forever. The continued fate of the second ball. Inside a barrel of purple champagne, the hyena growled and spat at its unfortunate lovelife. Sarah, the enchanting dog of his dreams, was eating delicately some peach macaroons. The barrel hit the hyena with a steel bucket which clanged a violin impetuously. The violin enjoyed the animalÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s company. The end. Compliments of LeeLee and Issy2 Try to figure out which paragraphs are by who. : :thumbsup:

a little lymeric i wrote, one of my favourites though a little weird :XD: there once was a fashionable young lassy who was quite fiendishly sassy she stayed out past ten and hogged all the men no wonder her friends called her trashy

love it darling, time to compose! :D

Pah! Archimage can I just say that this piece of writing did not in any way lower my opinion of you literary abilities(Your reaction perhaps) , which by the way are high. None of the things that I said were meant to offend you or imply that you were a bad writer, I merely wanted to provide my view on the piece of writing, that wasnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t to my taste, but certainly wasnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t bad. So IÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢m very sorry, I hope IÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢ve cleared the air. friends ?^-^ pheeew, ok well i read the updated version and thought that it was alot better than the first, it started to sound more like a story and i see your point about it not being a love story, but it seemed to be heading that way in th first version, anyway the 2nd version is also more enjoyable though there are some questionable bits. So overall i liked it, even though i prefer other things you've done. :

I don't mind, don't worry :

I think you could have done better. You were trying to attempt a love story, but it wasn't romantic, any sentiment revolved around the concept of love rather than basking in the feeling describing it and indulging it. It felt like you were straining a bit to find different ways of saying how much the lead was in love. When you should have been allowing their feelings to tell stories of their own. It got more exciting towards the end, just edit it a bit and i'm sure it will be fine. Maybe i'm taking an olf-fashioned aproach, but thats how i feel. I also think your earlier remark on getting back at each other through comments was childish. None meant to make offense. :mrgreen:

oh deary.....deary me.......... :uhh: ........................... :uhh: I've run out of compliments!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! nah, the first is quite simply the best thing that i've ever seen you write =D> . It grasps and executes perfectly everything that i couldn't comcieve you ever being able to do, when i read your first piece of writing. Not that it was that bad anyway.. lets not get into that.. the point is that as issy put so truthfully the change is really quite remarkable. The second one i like, however i've been looking over it and wondering whether it might be better as a short prose verse rather than a story???? Secondly issy's right, don't write a poem to go with the first verse it will only upstage the rest, unless you write them all as well as you did the first. But really it is complete by itself. One more personal kind of thing, the squabble we had did make us really good friends, which makes me over-the-moon that we had the argument in the first place :D. Because if it hadn't happened its likely all this wouldn't of happened and we wouldn't be as good friends, so i for one am pleased. Curryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy sorry, i can smell my mum's cooking!