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Haylor = Titanic?
Can we just compare Haylor to Titanic?
Some people think it’s fine and dandy, whereas others think it’s stupid. (It’s an impressively built ship by Irishmen but Rose said it looked no bigger than the last ship she was on so she is out Larry shipper in this case.)
And then we have Cal, who thinks the ship is unsinkable. (Hardcore Haylor shippers).
But then Jack is like this balancing act, y’know?
He’s definitely into Larry but can’t compare to Haylor because so many idiots really think that it’ll work out. BUT we all know the ending, right?
And in the end the ship sinks because no one believed that it would (well Cal A.K.A. Haylor didn’t) and thousands of people die. (Haylor shippers ahahaha)
So therefore, Haylor will sink.
The Haylor shippers will die.
Larry shippers will live.
And the saga continues, like Twilight.
so i see this status on facebook:
if anyone’s just absolutely done with rp and really can’t be bothered doing a bibliography, use this site http://www.citethisforme.com/
and i sit there for a solid five minutes thinking:
if anyone’s just absolutely done with roleplaying and can’t be bothered doing a bibliography, use this site?
if anyone’s done with roleplaying, use this site?
what on earth does citing have to do with roleplaying? is this girl high?
AND THEN IT HITS ME
oH SHE MEANS RESEARCH PROJECT OMFAL;KGSDF
“Can you love me?” she asked as she lay next to me smoking those horrid cigarettes that made everything around her smell like death incarnate. I responded as only I could at the moment. I took her cigarette from her and put it out in disgust while I looked at her surprised face and to add insult to injury I let the “No” slip from my mouth. It was a simple rejection, but the simple word was laced with a contempt that was inappropriate and ill-timed. A silence filled the room as the dissipating smoke fled from the room through the open window of our second floor apartment. Truthfully I wished I could have jumped out of the window and saved myself an embarrassing and hurtful argument, but for all my damn luck there was no response from my body as I commanded it to do as I wished I could do. Her eyes were simmering pools of hatred that I fell into when I looked at her. As usual I let my thoughts escape me before I could fully form them. What I meant to say was “Not yet”, for who wants to love a person with a foul tasting mouth of death right at that moment? Needless to say a barrage of insults followed as she decided to name all the ways I could go fuck myself, die, and a personal favorite of hers; all the ways I could go eat shit. If there’s anything I like in a girl, it’s her ability to insult. Insults speak a lot about a person. She was at that particular space and time, perfection. She was laying them down like bricks on mortar. An infallible virtuoso weaving them into sentences and structures I couldn’t help but envy. I asked her as she was catching her breath after finishing another glorious F-bomb, “Is it a bad time to say I love you?”, her answer was obvious of course, but it never hurts to ask does it? I told her anyways and the madness subsided. I don’t know what happened to us after that night, but she never smoked another cigarette again and I fell more in love with her than ever before. It seems that we find what we’re looking for during the most unexpected circumstances. This is simply a story but I wish to fucking hell that it could happen to me. The love of my life is going to be one bitchin’ person.