<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:01:27.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my life as a teen pirate</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-117623631312385936</id><published>2007-04-10T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T13:18:33.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>genes suck!</title><content type='html'>Okay I now know that no one reads my sad little dietribs, so here it gose. I am eighteen years old, I'm crazy, overly animated, I have a huge crush on my best friend from high school, and I lac the guts to just tell him out right. So instead I throw my self in to a number of exstremly superfital sexual relations, because I know that if I toke the chance I might  actually happy. I just can't rap my head around that concept, I need to bitch. What's worse is that I'm super intellegent. So I'm capable of rationalizing every thing I do. Thats me in a nut shell, and since no  one is going to read this crap I can say every thing I really feel ( not that I don't already, every one who really knows me knows that I am the  definition of  an extrivert. In other words I have a problume with keeping my mouth shut and my personality quite.) If anyone should have the misfortune of reading all this, you are a brave soul message me sometime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-117623631312385936?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/117623631312385936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=117623631312385936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/117623631312385936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/117623631312385936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2007/04/genes-suck.html' title='genes suck!'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-115018284070076244</id><published>2006-06-13T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T00:14:00.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holly happy in pants!</title><content type='html'>"I'm on a placebo beng. I want to make Brian Molko my friend. He is just so perrrrtyful! We could play dress up!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael the angel looks up over the paper he's reading. His light blue eyes come to rest apoun the little red haired goth girl in the corner. He reasons that this is clearly the source of the bizare udderences he just heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Holly honey, we have got to get you back to that psycitrist."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holly looks back over her shoulder at the angelic figire of Michael. A solft pout plays across the girls features.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ahhh Michael don't send me back to that man he's crazy. All he ever did was tell me how fucked up my life was. He never once told me how I might be able to better my situation. To be honest I don't think his life was as peachykeen as he made out it was, and it's not like I need to pay someone $75 an hour to tell me how screwed I am."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay Holly, but please do me a favor. The nexst time you go out of the house will you put some pants on?, and also when your grandparants come to dinner don't start stabbing the meatloft in the middle of grace."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Holly's eye starts to twich* "It was evil, and you know it!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just the same now all your relatives think you'r crazy. All though I think the thing that sinched it for them was when you excused your self from the dinner table to go to the bathroom, and then came back complettly wet. You din't even offer a word of explantion."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not crazy" *eye twich*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh of course not. Now go back to talking to the floor lamp. I think he might be getting lonely again."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-115018284070076244?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/115018284070076244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=115018284070076244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/115018284070076244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/115018284070076244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2006/06/holly-happy-in-pants.html' title='Holly happy in pants!'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-114727633012513430</id><published>2006-05-10T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T00:19:15.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Biblical Holly</title><content type='html'>The door of Holly's mind opens. In side is a darkly light room with several over stuffed back coaches, and chairs. Holly sits on the floor in the middle of this vast room. she sitts carefully scrutinizing the piece of folded cray paper she holds in her tiny hand. Her eye gives a slight twich. With swift grace she lifts up her right hand sissors poised. With diliberation she makes a singal cut. A frown passes over her feactures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shit!! why can't I get this right"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Micheal looks up from his reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you still trieing to make that paper butterfly?" he asks quizically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"yeah I don't know how that vampire did it he's such a show off"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He is a vampire has it crossed your mind that maybe it is beoynd the abillitys of a normal human?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Micheal if I was a normal human would I be talking to an angel right now?, or be friends with a vampire?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Hmm you have a point there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael gose back to his reading. Holly looks at the angel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whats that your reading?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Bibile."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know cause it's here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"that's kind of stupid, don't you think."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"well I will admit that the stories in this book are far from being factual."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean. can you give an example?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"well for instance let's take the storie of Noha and the ark. god really told him to gather two of every type of gummy animal, and put them in too a bathtub full of pepto bismal along with a large shrubbary"*smirks*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey I was there!Don't get all mad at me for telling you the truth!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But thats not right thats not happend!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh you'r so smart where were you when all this was happening!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Michael were you drunk?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael glares malicious up at the little goth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No! now why don't you go play with that pathetic gray cat of yours. You can race each other see who can drink the antifreez in the garage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Location: &lt;a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=The+color+blind+hedghog+in+a+bag+factory+of+oregon"&gt;The color blind hedghog in a bag factory of oregon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Mood: nostalgic&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: these things- she wants revenge&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-114727633012513430?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/114727633012513430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=114727633012513430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114727633012513430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114727633012513430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2006/05/biblical-holly.html' title='Biblical Holly'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-114727623929090356</id><published>2006-05-10T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T00:26:15.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NANCY BOY</title><content type='html'>Alcoholic kind of mood&lt;br /&gt;Lose my clothes, lose my lube&lt;br /&gt;Cruising for a piece of fun&lt;br /&gt;Looking out for number one&lt;br /&gt;Different partner every night&lt;br /&gt;So narcotic outta sight&lt;br /&gt;What a gas, what a beautiful ass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it all breaks down at the role reversal&lt;br /&gt;Got the muse in my head,she's universal&lt;br /&gt;Spinning me round, she's coming over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it all breaks down at the first rehearsal&lt;br /&gt;Got the muse in my head, she's universal&lt;br /&gt;Spinning me round, she's coming over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of buzz that lasts for days&lt;br /&gt;Had some help from insect ways&lt;br /&gt;comes across all shy and coyJust another nancy boy&lt;br /&gt;Woman man or modern monkey&lt;br /&gt;Just another happy junkie50 pounds, press my buttonGoing down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it all breaks down at the role reversal&lt;br /&gt;Got the muse in my head, she's universal&lt;br /&gt;Spinning me round, she's coming over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it all breaks down at the first rehearsal&lt;br /&gt;Got the muse in my head, she's universal&lt;br /&gt;Spinning me round, she's coming over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does his make-up in his room&lt;br /&gt;Douse himself with cheap perfume&lt;br /&gt;Eyeholes in a paper-bagGreatest lay I ever had&lt;br /&gt;Kind of guy who mates for lifeGotta help him find a wife&lt;br /&gt;We're a couple when our bodies double&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it all breaks down at the role reversal&lt;br /&gt;Got the muse in my head, she's universal&lt;br /&gt;Spinning me round, she's coming over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it all breaks down at the first rehearsal&lt;br /&gt;Got the muse in my head, she's universal&lt;br /&gt;Spinning me round, she's coming over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it all breaks down at the role reversal&lt;br /&gt;Got the muse in my head, she's universal&lt;br /&gt;Spinning me round, she's coming over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it all breaks down at the first rehearsal&lt;br /&gt;Got the muse in my head, she's universal&lt;br /&gt;Spinning me round, she's coming over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Location: &lt;a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=a+hole+at+the+bottom+of+the+sea"&gt;a hole at the bottom of the sea&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Mood: exhausted&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: mud vain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-114727623929090356?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/114727623929090356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=114727623929090356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114727623929090356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114727623929090356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2006/05/nancy-boy.html' title='NANCY BOY'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-114624217616355183</id><published>2006-04-28T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T09:36:16.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>explodding raisins .........in your pants!</title><content type='html'>When I step back, and look at it I reailize I've had a pretty go run of life. Even with my short years I have learned many valued lessons. Thats why it came as a shock to find that rasins have explosive propertys. I had just came home from a hard day of school. My dad has just reasently bought one hundred pipe cleaners. He started constructing some sort of scafolding in the living room for no other purpose then out of shear boredom. So any way he was in consintrating very intensly on were he should put the nexst pipe cleaner(this is what my life partner has to look forward to in latter years). To keep my self from questioning my parents sanity. I thought I should cook something. Apple crisp sounded like a chalenging indevore. I didn't have any oatmeal so I used garnola instead. Every thing whent fine till it was time to take it out of the oven. As soon as I had opened the oven door a volcanic rock came wizzing by my head, and hit the sleeping dog on the nose(poor thing will be scared for life. I don't even like dogs that much, but I feel sorry for the bitch). It toke me sometime to figure out that the volcanic rock was acually the remains of a rasin. It was burnt beyond recignition.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-114624217616355183?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/114624217616355183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=114624217616355183' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624217616355183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624217616355183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2006/04/explodding-raisins-in-your-pants.html' title='explodding raisins .........in your pants!'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-114624210929581346</id><published>2006-04-28T09:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T00:30:59.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lestats wild kingdom</title><content type='html'>*A beautiful man with wavy blond hair tyed in a ponytail, and light blue eyes steps in to center screen*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good evening madams, and monsieurs. I'm sure you all know who I am, but for those of you who don't let me enlighten you *smurks*. I am the vampire Lestat. Today I have somthing special to show you, today you shall see the real Holly Le'bre. Now this is very dangeruos even for an emortal such as myself, cause she knows were I sleep. So I have to be very cautious. This is the time of the month when she's at her most crule, but she should be asleep right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; *Lestat becions to the camra man to follow him. He gingerly grabs the door knob to the dark bule door in the corner of the room. Taking a deep breath he turns the knob. A sudden gush of red metalic tasting liquid comes spilling from the now ajar door, and knocks our hero to the floor. Lestat leaps up still wide eyed in amazement*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mon due! this is more gastly then a thousand gouls!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; *After wiping off his black suit, and italian shoes Lestat surivaes the room that he now stands in. His sharp gaze falls apoun the bed in the middle of the room. A mass of blankets shrod a small figure the mound pulsats with soft breathing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah look shes sleeping shhh"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; *Lestat grins evily*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Well you came to see the real Holly. I think it's about time you meet"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Lestat rips the top layer of blankets off the mound. A fat long haired gray cat waped in a cotton cocon pokes it's head out.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh no!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; *Lestat looks franticaly around the small room. A look of panic, and dread passes on the vampires perfect face, as he sees a shadow on the wall move rapidly twords him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Run away!run away!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Lestat lonches himself in the general direction of the door. He clings to the door frame, as a creature with disheveled looking red hair trys to pull him back in to the room*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Mood: crappy&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: satan gave me a taco - by Beck-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-114624210929581346?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/114624210929581346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=114624210929581346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624210929581346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624210929581346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2006/04/lestats-wild-kingdom.html' title='Lestats wild kingdom'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-114624201157412963</id><published>2006-04-28T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T00:35:42.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zombie racoon</title><content type='html'>The title has absolutly nothing to do with the post (that's a storie for another time)This post dose contain mild violence and as always sexuall inuendoes, but thats to be expected. Okay guys I know that my last post was kind of well.....special. Belive me that was one of my more tame expretions of pemanent adulesence. I have a overly active imagination. I have come to terms with it. I also have a split personality thingy named Michael, and if you read the last post then you know that I have a history of sleep walking, yeah I'm a shrinks wet dream. Now I'm having a new fantisy. I think it's pretty good so far, but you should take a like and judge for yourselves. *Holly opens up the window of her mind. Inside is a hottub with three hansome young men in it. Apon further inspection it is discovered that the three men are none other then Johnny Depp, Stuart Townsend, and Orlando Bloom. They beckion to Holly to come, and join them. Before Holly has a chance to do anything Michael pokes his head around the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh god Holly not this again!! You know you don't even want any of these guys in reality!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey shut up! your not even suposed to be here!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah! come off it. I know who you really want" *grins, and holds up picture of Drew*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"NOO! NO! it is'nt true!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh so I should just throw this away?" *waves picture about mencesingly*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Holly dives for the picture, renching it out of Michael's hand*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's true alright, now can we lose the gorgues thong boys please. It's hard anough to think with them around, and I don't like sharing my toilet with three other men plus Lestat. Now get rid of them, and tell that boy you like him"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Holly hangs head* "But what if I just scare him! Cause he dosn't like me that way"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*glares at Holly, and sighs* "Then at lest you will have done something. Now ladies, and gentelmen I think it's time for the violence she promised you earlier. I don't know about you but I'm getting kind of tired of lisening to her whine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Michael rolls up news paper, and beats Holly on the head with it. Holly runs away. Michael turns back to the hottub. Rises eyebrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now wear were we gentelmen?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Mood: confused&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: Mindless self endulgence&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-114624201157412963?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/114624201157412963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=114624201157412963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624201157412963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624201157412963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2006/04/zombie-racoon.html' title='Zombie racoon'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-114624175097400191</id><published>2006-04-28T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T09:29:10.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nature boy as performed by David bowie</title><content type='html'>There was a boya very strange enchanted boy.&lt;br /&gt;they say he wandered very far, very far&lt;br /&gt;over land and sea..A little shy, and sad of eye but very wise was he&lt;br /&gt;...And then one day one magic day he passed my way&lt;br /&gt;and while we spoke of many things....&lt;br /&gt;fools, and kings.....&lt;br /&gt;this he said to me......&lt;br /&gt;the greatest thing you'll ever learnis just to love.......&lt;br /&gt;and be loved in return&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-114624175097400191?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/114624175097400191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=114624175097400191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624175097400191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624175097400191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2006/04/nature-boy-as-performed-by-david-bowie.html' title='Nature boy as performed by David bowie'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-114624157040284575</id><published>2006-04-28T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T09:26:10.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah The Wonder Hamster!!!.......has nothing to do with this post</title><content type='html'>Check this sight out it's spadoncal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.xenocorp.net/H_bardCorner/mpfotr_full.htm"&gt;http://www.xenocorp.net/H_bardCorner/mpfotr_full.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-114624157040284575?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/114624157040284575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=114624157040284575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624157040284575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624157040284575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2006/04/blah-wonder-hamsterhas-nothing-to-do.html' title='Blah The Wonder Hamster!!!.......has nothing to do with this post'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-114624132340406656</id><published>2006-04-28T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T00:40:25.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Insomnia</title><content type='html'>The monitor hummed continuesly, as I typed on. Oblivus to the ever changing world. I blinked back the drowsyness that threatend to over take me. How long had it been since I last closed my eyes in sleep. Three days? Four? I had became nubm to the world. How ever long it had been Lestat had given up trying to ingaeg me in conversation. He had given up shoving food in me two days ago. He knew that he was powerless in this instens.Lestat had gone out to feed. Leaving me in the care of Michael. Michael was presently sprawld out over the love seat behind me. His shoulder length dark hair was matted to his head by beads of persperation. His eyes were shroded by dark shades. He was probaly working through the efects of another hang over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can you stop with the typing. This shits been going on for days. Just because you can't sleep dosen't mean I have to suffer, and between you, and Lestat worring about you that's perceisly what I've been doing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I continue typing he looks over at me pulling the sunglasses further down his nose. I can now see him glaring at me with blood shot eyes. Lestat comes walking through the door. He survase the scene looking from me to Michael then back to me. Then he raise his hand, and places it on my forehead. His skin is flush, and warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Has there been no change since I left? Has she said any thing?" He asks in his beautiful voice laced with french acsent.&lt;br /&gt;He peers cautiusly at the screen. Then he smiles softly showing the tips of his fangs. "Well one thing is intacked at least she still has her good taste in men. Maybe we should trie to feed her again....yes I'll go get her something." He then disapeard in to the kitchen. Michael now stod over me in an imposing manner staring at the computer screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not sanding over you in an imposing manner!" He screamed indignently, "And I'm not being indignent ethier!" again being indignent. He scaled at me as he finished reading "Fuck you, and your vocabulary" he said calmly. I could hear Lestat in the kitchen. It was amazing how anyone could be such a bad cook, and still look so cute while he burned half the meal.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh he's a vampire get over him"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A cute vampire!" Lestat said as he poked his head in the door. "For heavens sake stop being so indignent Michael"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ahh I hate you both!"*Lestat smiles, as Holly supresses giggel*Michael glared at me "I blame you Holly" he mumbled..."will you stop typing that's all you've done for the last four days I can't take it anymore!"Michael's eyes slant in to a murderus stare. I Watch as he picks up a full beer can, and I can tell he means to throw it at me. He pulls back his hand then releases. The can gose hurtling twords my head. I duck my head but as the projectal comes closer that he has already figured that veryable in to his aim. As he juklgft[hy4.; l;d;gjkgkl k ...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There that will teach you. Hey Lestat I found the cure to insomnia!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-114624132340406656?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/114624132340406656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=114624132340406656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624132340406656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624132340406656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2006/04/insomnia.html' title='Insomnia'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-114624086436374742</id><published>2006-04-28T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T00:44:41.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Visions of Wonderland</title><content type='html'>I sit posied at the edge of this narrow hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many have ventured forword.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuing down the path that was layed out before them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never imagening the grander that is Wonderland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never stopping to see what lies behind the looking glass,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then there are the few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost in the untameable wilds of the imagenation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happness they must know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sit posied at the edge of this narrow hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shall I do as Alice, and fall head long in to this adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The abys of dreams. the cave were fantisys dwell.........yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-114624086436374742?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/114624086436374742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=114624086436374742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624086436374742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624086436374742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2006/04/visions-of-wonderland.html' title='Visions of Wonderland'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-114624072854039320</id><published>2006-04-28T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T00:52:43.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Desicration of Holly's Inner Sanctum</title><content type='html'>Lestat looks worridly over Michael's shoulder "Michael are you sure she's going to be busy for a while?"Michael looks reasuringly at his comrad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ofcourse I'm sure, he pauses to make a funny face "She's talking to Drew" Michael gose back to picking the lock on the large dark blue door. Through all of this Lestat still dos not seem to reasured, as he stands on the look out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know I tried to do this once before, and I almost got raped!"&lt;br /&gt;Michael looks up slowly, and confidently&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My dear friend it is simply impossable to rape the willing. Now hang on a secound I think I got this lock to give." Lestat starts to fidget with his jacket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All right my friend, but I still say this is a bad idea. So be quick."&lt;br /&gt;Michael stands up, and takes a step back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well here it gose open seaseme"He gives the door a swift kick sending it flying opened. The two men continue to step silently inside Holly's room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mon du, Lestat wispers, I never knew it was like this" He glances in aew at the room that suround him.The walls are painted with a light green, posters of semenaked men adorn the walls a ceiling. While piles of suprisingly clean clothes lie strewn a cross the floor, and there is a lingering sweet smell of incense in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow, Michaels eyes search unabaded. He stops suddenly his gaze rests upon the small unmade bed. "Well lets see what our little gothic barbie has under here"&lt;br /&gt;Lestat looks up from the teen magizine with Orlando Blooms face on the cover. "Lestat I'm going to need your help lifteing up this mattres"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah what now I was just about to read the six new ways to please my man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lestat stop messing around you can read "seventeen" later!"&lt;br /&gt;Michael takes up one edge of the mattres, and Lestat follows suit. With one good shove the mattres gives way.Michael, Lestat stares in bewilderment at what lies before them.&lt;br /&gt;Michael recovers from the shock first. "Dear "Penthouse"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thats just not natural!" Lestat mutters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh thats natural alright thats very natural!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah but how thats what I'd like to know she's not eightteen she can't even pass her self off as eightteen. So she couldn't have got theses her self at lest not legitametly!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh she's a wile one our little girl she obvusly found a way"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Michael I have never seen so much porn in my intire existence"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know Lestat isn't it beautiful"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow I wish she would wear this around the house" Lestat says as he holds up a black catsuite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah you, and me both. Hay is that a whip?" Michael picks it up "Jesus tit that is a whip!"&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile Lestat has managed to handcuff himself. At the same time a third presence has made it's way in to the tiny room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU TWO THINK YOUR DOING!" Holly screams.&lt;br /&gt;Lestat and Michael look at each other excepctently then start talking all at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WWWell you see cherri we were just researching in here, and then Michael here lost his contact lens, and we thought it might have fallen under the mattres." Lestat manages to stammer out nervesly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lestat just stop do you think I'm really going to belive that story." She looks from one to the other.Lestat, and Michael both hang their heads in shame.&lt;br /&gt;"I really should beat the crap out of both of you."&lt;br /&gt;Michael looks up at her, then looks at the whip. He holds it out to her hopefuly.&lt;br /&gt;"You wish angel boy, now go on get out of here both of you. Oh and Michael leave that here"&lt;br /&gt;The two men walk back out of the room. Lestat pause at the door, and turns to face The small goth girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mon cherri do you think you could give me the keys to these?" Lestat holds up his hadcuffed arms. Holly smiles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No Lestat I seem to have missplacesed the keys"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Location: &lt;a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Never+neverland"&gt;Never neverland&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Mood: hot&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: Mindless self endulgence- Bitches&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-114624072854039320?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/114624072854039320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=114624072854039320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624072854039320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/114624072854039320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2006/04/desicration-of-hollys-inner-sanctum.html' title='The Desicration of Holly&apos;s Inner Sanctum'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-113458117148600519</id><published>2005-12-14T09:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T09:26:11.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back!</title><content type='html'>Sorry I've been neglecting you again, but I just got a livejournal acount. Right now has a bunch of my previous posts from here. I also have some new rants. If any one wants to check it out my username is lestat_boo_back, and the title is dead pupies are not much fun.&lt;br /&gt;Luv all Holly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-113458117148600519?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/113458117148600519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=113458117148600519' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/113458117148600519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/113458117148600519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/12/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m back!'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-113016724422689349</id><published>2005-10-24T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T08:20:44.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I will not do stupid shit for no reason *slams head in to desk repeatedly*</title><content type='html'>I have just come to the startilling concluion that Holly (thats me for those of you who didn't know) is a stupid moron who has given up yet another opertunity to be happy. I should have told him and I didn't! Ahhh stupid! stupid! stupid! *bangs head on nearst solid object* Ahhhhh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-113016724422689349?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/113016724422689349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=113016724422689349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/113016724422689349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/113016724422689349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-will-not-do-stupid-shit-for-no.html' title='I will not do stupid shit for no reason *slams head in to desk repeatedly*'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-112731807945107482</id><published>2005-09-21T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T08:54:39.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey how you doing?</title><content type='html'>Alright I really don't have any thing to say today. I just drank three ruby red squirts. So I'm on one of those sugar buzzes were you feel like you can bend spoons with your mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-112731807945107482?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/112731807945107482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=112731807945107482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/112731807945107482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/112731807945107482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/09/hey-how-you-doing.html' title='Hey how you doing?'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-112658180635704223</id><published>2005-09-12T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T20:23:26.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun things to do on the elevator</title><content type='html'>1) make race car noises when anyone gets on or off.&lt;br /&gt;2) blow your nose and offer to show the contents of your kleenex to other passengers.&lt;br /&gt;3) grimace painfully while smacking your forhead and muttering "shut up damn it all of you."&lt;br /&gt;4) whistle the first seven notes of "It's a small world" incessantly.&lt;br /&gt;5) Sell girl scout cookies.&lt;br /&gt;6) crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside ask "Got enough air in there."&lt;br /&gt;7) When arriving at your floor, grunt and strain to yank open the doors, then act suprised when the door ones on it's own.&lt;br /&gt;8) Meow occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;9) Frown and mutter "gotta go, gotta go", then sigh and say"oops."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-112658180635704223?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/112658180635704223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=112658180635704223' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/112658180635704223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/112658180635704223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/09/fun-things-to-do-on-elevator.html' title='Fun things to do on the elevator'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-112542373153837351</id><published>2005-08-30T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T10:42:11.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Naughty nun</title><content type='html'>Okay in my family it's the career of choice to become a nun,or priest, but there are a select few in every generation who defie their elders, and become something more modern, and more glamores like stripers/models, and gamblers/money sharks. So it has come over the years a divishion between the naughtys, and the saints. People have had to deal with a lot, but I'm proud to say that I'm the first goth. I know it's hard to belive, but by some strange quirk of fate I have the power to piss of both partys yay! How dose she do it you ask! well I'll tell you I really don't know, but I always have to stay with the religious cult( most often in the broom closet with all the old crusifices)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-112542373153837351?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/112542373153837351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=112542373153837351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/112542373153837351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/112542373153837351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/08/naughty-nun.html' title='Naughty nun'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-112292624996485031</id><published>2005-08-01T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T12:57:29.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello dear readers!</title><content type='html'>Hello my freaky darlings!&lt;br /&gt;I've been neglecting you all I know, but since there are only one or two of you that read this dogma I don't expect to many letters cusing me out, but hey you guys are welcome to prove me wrong. Any way I have some great news for you. I'm now working the nine to five for the nexst three weeks. I won't tell you were I'm working. I perfer to suprise you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-112292624996485031?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/112292624996485031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=112292624996485031' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/112292624996485031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/112292624996485031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/08/hello-dear-readers.html' title='Hello dear readers!'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-111958600335254134</id><published>2005-06-23T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T21:06:43.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>summer job!</title><content type='html'>Alright first off let me say that I'm truly sorry for not writing for a long time. I've been having a lot of family drama as of late. Ah summer has finely come, and with it the summer job. Yes boys and girls I am once again employed, and this time I don't have a job belly dancing (like last summer). No this year it's something new to me (It's honest hard work). Any way I miss all your imput, so please someone send me a message soon. As always Holly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-111958600335254134?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/111958600335254134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=111958600335254134' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111958600335254134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111958600335254134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/06/summer-job.html' title='summer job!'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-111603836821846670</id><published>2005-05-13T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T19:39:28.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ahhhh now I have a secret admire</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I woke up this morning, and did my usual mumbel, grumbel thing (cause I'm not one of those happy morning people.) I whent outside to feed the fuzzy creatures that lumber around my porch, and on my way out the door I triped on something, and fell on my ass. After coining a few colorful frases I picked up the thing I had steped on. I was about to throw it when I noticed what it was. It was a little glass vase that held three really pretty red roses. Further examinion of the vase produced a small card with a sweet little pome. So it seems that I have another stalker, but still I feel flaterd by their attention ot me (I don't know if I'm worthy of it). Any way it was a super nice thing for some one to do. If your reading this thank you so much for the roses, but nexst time if you could please attach a little brightly colored ribbon to such things. Lets face it I'm not a very graceful person. Oh guys if you want a little some thing to dazel your lady &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;firend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; Dusk like night, but night with all her stars, or cavern spakling with native spars, with eyes that were a language and a spell aform like Aphrodites in her shell. With all her loves around her on the deep voluptuous as the first approach of sleep.                                                                           LordByron&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-111603836821846670?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/111603836821846670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=111603836821846670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111603836821846670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111603836821846670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/05/ahhhh-now-i-have-secret-admire.html' title='ahhhh now I have a secret admire'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-111411565339633421</id><published>2005-04-21T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T13:34:13.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What?</title><content type='html'>All right it seems I have found another little problem. If it is not perfectly obvious ot who ever is reading this maybe I should state that I'm a female. Granted a very strange female who can not stand to be around most other females for some odd reason. Any way the other day some snoty little bitch came up to me, and asked why I was always hanging around the boys, and it kind of pissed me off. What so I can't talk to me firend cause he has a dick? It seems like now all the girls think I'm a slut. I'm sorry I must not have goten that memo that we as a culture were revertting back to the 1800s. I can imagine that some time this week my fellow classmates are going to burn me at the stake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-111411565339633421?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/111411565339633421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=111411565339633421' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111411565339633421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111411565339633421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/04/what.html' title='What?'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-111404357776026009</id><published>2005-04-20T16:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T17:32:57.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Echo</title><content type='html'>Over the last couple years I have been having a reacuring dream. I know I must be a shrinks worst nightmare, but I think I could use someones opinion. Okay so here's the dream. I'm sniking to the bottom of what to me seems like a endless ocean. I can see my limbs floating around me, but I can't move them no mater how hard I trie. Not many people know it but when a person is drownding they have a brife moment were every thing gose quite, and dark.( I know because I have died twice, and I've been revived twice.) Then you slip in to unconsiousenes. I close my eyes agains my will. I'm dying slowly. Then comes the hand, plunging in the water after me. The hand is strong , with long thin fingers. It graps hold of my hand in it own, and it pulls me up to the surface of the water. I inhail my first deep breath of air, my eyes blinking back the water. I look up, and I see some one standing in the sunlight. Then I wake. I never see the persons face. Till I do it remains an echo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-111404357776026009?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/111404357776026009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=111404357776026009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111404357776026009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111404357776026009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/04/echo.html' title='The Echo'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-111196252716100013</id><published>2005-03-27T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-27T14:28:47.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Easter!</title><content type='html'>It's that time of year again. meaning one thing for me Easter is when relatives come to visit me, but not just any relatives chathlic relatives. Oh yeah thats right every year on Easter sunday my house is transformed in to a cathedral, and filled to the brim with nuns. For me it is truly horrific. You should come to one of my family gatheringsits fun as hell cause half of my family are nuns/preists, and the other half (like for instins me) are well not nuns/preists. Just trie to invision if you will being that tiny goth girl sitting down to eat dinner with sister Mary josoph the two hundred pound saint, talk about intimidation. So tonight I'm going to do something I have not done in a long time I'm going to pray THAT THEY LEAVE EARILY IN THE MORNING! Till nexst time I hope you all have a wonderful Easter, and I hope to see more then one person out there wearing their birthday suit with bunny ears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-111196252716100013?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/111196252716100013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=111196252716100013' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111196252716100013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111196252716100013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/03/happy-easter.html' title='Happy Easter!'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-111182683089545313</id><published>2005-03-25T23:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-26T00:47:10.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so sorry</title><content type='html'>The last couple times I've posted on here I have been angry, and somewhat mean spirited. I've been serching for other people to lay the blame on, but the truth is there is only one person who I can say with any a conviction is the one at fault. Sadly that one person is me. I have a little bit of responsbility for what is going on in my curent enviorment. I don't know what I can do, but I will trie to take charge of what little I still have control of by sofening some of my personality. For years I have hardend myself to the point were I became a cold shallow ice queen. It's only been in the last two years or so that I have started to thaw. This was largly in part of my firends. Please understand that this is NOT me being born again. This is NOT me finding faith in some god(I still have nightmares from Cathlic school. I haven't talked to any cosmic force since I was eight, and that was when my pet rat died. If you want to belive in something then thats great for you, I guess but right now I would ask you to please let me stay out of it.) This is me coming to terms with me, and become what I hope is a better person. I will stop blogging on the bad things that are going on around me (I figer thats why I have a diary.) I will trie to see the good things first. I would like to aso fess up to some of the things I have done in the past. Let me be the first to state that I have not always been the perfect daughter, sister, firend, or, lover. If I have ever hurt any of the people I have been in contact with then I'm truely sorry, yes this gose out to everyone even the people I think deserved it. All right you might want to print this off cause I don't say it that much, but here it is I'M SORRY.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-111182683089545313?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/111182683089545313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=111182683089545313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111182683089545313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111182683089545313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/03/im-so-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m so sorry'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-111069300658276744</id><published>2005-03-12T21:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-12T21:50:06.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An update on all of my shit</title><content type='html'>All right so things are not going the way I would like. Mom, and dad are still doing the old divores talk. Last week in an efort to play happy family they toke me, and my older brother up to Portland for the day. So please imagen if you will being traped in the back seat of a small mazde truck with your big brother putting his fett up on you, because you teenier. With your bickering parents in front, and staying in that enviorment for four hours, no potty brakes! Then when I get home the only on you can talk to with out feeling to guilty is in a bad mood cause he's shedding (yeah he's a snake can't confide in my cat, Lestat unless I really want ny arm biten off.) Then I went out to the movies with some of my buddies (Chelsea got me a dolly! *shreiks with joy* oh yeah if you were one of the people in the parking lot I'm really sorry. I know that the sight of a strange goth girl wearign a "Pirates of the Caribbean" shirt and craddeling a "Bratz doll" is a little un nerving so I aplogize profusly. Oh oh! and I also got bored, and toke an IQ test. I got a 152 oh yeah! That means I'm a fucked up smart person yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-111069300658276744?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/111069300658276744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=111069300658276744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111069300658276744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/111069300658276744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/03/update-on-all-of-my-shit.html' title='An update on all of my shit'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110912076571542489</id><published>2005-02-22T16:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T17:06:05.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ajustments (how fucked up can I be!)</title><content type='html'>Fuck I'm hearing the sepration talk again! I can't stand these pricks I call parents. They don't even notic what the fuck is going on with me or my brother. They'er too wraped up in their pedy little tifts to see that it's killing me! If they do split I'm not going to stay like the good dog I'm going to gather what little of the crap I still have, and I'm getting the hell out of this shit hole!Ahhhhhhh! *takes deep breath, screams in to pillow* Okay thats my little rant for today. Now I feel better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110912076571542489?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110912076571542489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110912076571542489' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110912076571542489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110912076571542489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/02/ajustments-how-fucked-up-can-i-be.html' title='Ajustments (how fucked up can I be!)'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110901722804409373</id><published>2005-02-21T11:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-21T21:27:37.806-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you obsessed with LOTR</title><content type='html'>Allright I am going to trie something a little diffrent today cause I haven't writen in long time. I got this list from one of my firends, and I was truly amazed at how many of these things I have done. So here it is how you can tell when you are obsessed with Lord of the Rings.                           1. You like to tell your mom that your hungry by quoting: "Merry I'm hungry." were she used to just laugh she now says "What would you like to eat Pippin?"                                                                                                                                                          2. You continually ask your parents for a second breakfast.                                                                                                                                                       3. All the staff at your local cinema know you by your first name, and even befor you open your mouth to speak, they say "Ticket for Fellowship of the Rings?"                                                         4. You hate Burger King but you ate nothing else for a month to get the toys.                           5.You've crammed up your computer's memory by downloading every single screensaver from &lt;a href="http://www.Lordoftherings.net"&gt;www.Lordoftherings.net&lt;/a&gt; (actualy for me it's my parents computer yeah hehh)                               6. You wander around the house in knee length nightie, pyjama trousers and an unfastened dressing gown (to give you a train). You are tyring to be an elf, and actually manage to forget that the nighttie is blue with dolphins, the trousers have teddies on and the dressing gown is tartan.                                                                                                                                                              7. Your Lord of the Rings has not yet meet mr. washing machine.                                                        8. You don't have enough money to buy groceries for the nexst week before payday, yet you change L50 on your credit card to get a three year charter membership in the offical LOTR fan club. (hey in my defence Who needs food?)                                                                                            9. You refer to parts of your town as parts of middle-earth.                                                            10. You wear elvish and hobbitish clothing as part of your normal wardrobe.                                   11. You sometimes let your hair go curly after wash, and then run around the house in bare feet yelling "I'm a hobbit!" (hey that was only once!)                                                                                    12. You hate it when elves are only thought of as 'santa's little helpers' and you tried to explain the diffrence between santa-elves and Syrian Elves to your 5 year old cousins.                              13. You speak in Quenya just to annoy your firends.                                                                            14. You refer to regular elephants as oliphaunts.                                                                                    15. While buttering a piece of bread, you suddenly think of Bilbo (remember when he was talking to Gandalf about feeling tired) saying that he felt 'like butter spread over too much bread.'                                                                                                                                                           16. You renamed your car the Wraith-mobile.                                                                                      17. You have a replica of The One Ring.                                                                                                  18. You are begining to look like a panda due to the fact that you've stayed up until 2 am reading, and re-reading the great books.                                                                                               19. You actually managed to read the Silmarillion without being tempted to give up on this whole middle earth malarkey.                                                                                                                                20. You now have a lifetime fear of black horses! (hehe I know I'm pathetic)                                   21. You haven't removed the soundtrack from your cd player since you bought it.                          22. You have ssudenly developed a hisssing lisssp every time you sssay the letter ssss.                23. You have looked both onthe net and in the phone book  to see if archery and sword fighting lessions are offered in your area.                                                                                                              24. You have begun calling your husband/wife/girlfirend/boyfirend/animal or kid my preciousss. (I love my preciousss.)                                                                                                          25. You happily traveled over an hour to the nexst town to see "it" because that theater has a better sound system than the one 5 minutes down the road.                                                               26. You have called every theatrical or specialty makeup company in town looking for pointy ears or hairy feet prosthetics. (mine are right nexst to my vampire fangs)                                      27. You've worn your plastic "one ring" that came on your Legolas bookmark so much the gold is completely worn off.                                                                                                                                   28. You've begun drafting a letter to Webster's dictionary people requesting that they include "Ringers" and or "Tolkienite" in their nexst edition.                                                                             29. At christmas time relatives find you chatting with the tree and sharing eggnog draughts. (oh) 30. Single ads with the description, "short plump and big hairy feet" seem more appealing.        31. You know the LOTR history better then the your family history.                                                 32. You have a mouse named Frodo, a bird named Gollum, and a dog named Gandalf, and a cat named Legolas. (sadly Legolas ate Frodo*sob*)                                                                                      33. You know Elvish better then you know English.                                                                              34. Whenever something gose wrong, it's Sauron's fault.                                                                       35. When you sing in the shower, it's always about Gil-Galad or hobbit walking songs......               36. You know everything about Middle earth geography, but you can't get someone from your house to the ice cream parlor.                                                                                                                    37. You think the names of the 7 dwaves from Snow White are: Gimli, Gloin, Thorin, Gili, Nili, Ori, and Bambour.                                                                                                                                      38. You have developed your own special Tolkien handwriting.                                                         39. Words like "Yrch" make sense to you.                                                                                               40. You've become strangley obsessed with mushrooms.                                                                     41. Whenever you close a door, you say "They have a crave troll."                                                   42. When you come to a dead end your still convinced that the road gose ever on and on.            43. There's a sign on your door saying "Speak firend and enter."                                                      44. You change your name by deed poll to a Tolkien characters.                                                        45. Every time you see birds in the sky you have the urge to say "Fly you fools!"                          46. When someone knocks on your door you grab them, pull them inside and ask "Are you frightend?..... not nearly frightend enough!" (okay once when the religose people came and  anyone who wakes me up at 5:00 sould be happy I didn't kill them right there)                             47. Your computer's screensaver is a marquee reading, "Ennyn Durin atan Moria: pedo mellon a mino" and the password is actually "mellon" (I was trieing to be wity )                                             48. You cannot see a beer without blurting out "It comes in pints? I'm getting one"                       49. You just can't keep your self from saying "nobody tosses a Dwarf" at inappropriate moments.                                                                                                                                                     50. A shadow and a threat is growing in your mind.                                                                              51. You now refer to your firends as your 'Fellowship' and insist that you have epic adventures. 52. You stand in the door way and tell your cat that he 'Can not pass ' (the last time I did that he toke a crap on my bed.)                                                                                                                              53. You wash your face  in the sink and expect to see things that are, that been or will be.           54. Your wedding band has started to weigh you down with it's evil powers (thats most of the married people I know.)                                                                                                                              55. Spending $35 at the store seems expensive but its perfectly fine to spend $70 on a hardcover LOTR book with Alan Lee illustrations.                                                                               56. You start keeping a LOTR journal to write poems and inkings in.                                                57. You face every difficult decision with the thought "now what would Gandalf advise me to do?"                                                                                                                                                               58. You know what Entmoot, Ent draught, or an Ent is for that matter.                                            59. A walking stick... you never leave home with out it.                                                                        Okay I'm adding one because it needs to be put up here                                                                        60. You have a cardboard cut out of Legolas that for some strange resone has what looks like lipstick stains on it's face (oh poo *hangs head in shame*)                                                                    Alright so if you know who started this list please let me know so I can give them credit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110901722804409373?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110901722804409373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110901722804409373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110901722804409373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110901722804409373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/02/are-you-obsessed-with-lotr.html' title='Are you obsessed with LOTR'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110772270246658291</id><published>2005-02-06T13:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T12:45:02.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The strange childs strange animals ( no I'm not talking about you Ne) </title><content type='html'>I just got a new friend. My parents are freaked out cause though none of my friends are what you would call normal this one is kind of weird even by my standerds cause this one has scales. Yes my strange menagerie has grown to unbeliveable porportions now wiht my new albino corn snake. My science teacher gave him to me (mother has now put a hit out on him for any one who is  interested). Now all I need to do is come up with a good name for him. He's going to get out of the cage some time and strangle me cause I'm not giving him live food (I'm way to sensitive for that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110772270246658291?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110772270246658291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110772270246658291' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110772270246658291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110772270246658291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/02/strange-childs-strange-animals-no-im.html' title='The strange childs strange animals ( no I&apos;m not talking about you Ne) '/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110771958920581105</id><published>2005-02-06T11:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T11:53:09.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>strange child!!!</title><content type='html'>Ok sorry I haven't been posting much as of late but I 've had a lot on my mind. My parents got in to another fight this is like the fith one in two days, and it's starting to get to me. They never fight but for the last three months they've been at one another for the stupidest things. They can't even say hello with out getting in to some sort of argument. I was so proud of my family, because I'm one of the only people I know that dosn't have a step parent, or who isn't a foster child,or adopted. I guess I never made the conection with them never really talking and them never fighting. Any way my faith in the whole love and marriage thing has just toke a nose dive in to an abyss. I don't tink I will ever get married. I'm way to argumentitive. People who talk to me on the streets would like nothing more then to kill me, all because I can't keep my mouth shut. It gets me in shit all the time. I just can't help it. Insanity seems to run in strides on both sides of the family. If I did have a husband he would murder me in my sleep, and he would most likely get away with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110771958920581105?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110771958920581105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110771958920581105' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110771958920581105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110771958920581105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/02/strange-child.html' title='strange child!!!'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110695879481113034</id><published>2005-01-28T15:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-28T16:33:14.813-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it just me?</title><content type='html'>Is it just me your are little kids getting realy mean? All the middle schoolers are f#$%ing evil, or at lest most of them are. They think the're  so cool, I hope they grow up. I know I was probably a little shit head to, and if I had the chance I would go back and kick my own ass. See look at me now. I grew up in to a prefectly mature adult *reflects on following statment* Okay so maybe not, but thats a good thing. I hope I never grow up to be one of those mean evil old ladys who walk around like they have a stick up my butt(cause I know I will some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110695879481113034?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110695879481113034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110695879481113034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110695879481113034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110695879481113034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/is-it-just-me.html' title='Is it just me?'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110661563507466807</id><published>2005-01-24T16:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-24T17:13:55.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Does size matter?</title><content type='html'>Okay all my firends have bigger busts then I do, and they'er making fun of me. Last time I checked it wasn't a good thing to have brests the size of a persons head. I can't imagen having brests that big. It seems it would be to painful to cope with. It's not  like I have no boobs! In fact I think I have nice boobs, and size c is not that small!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110661563507466807?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110661563507466807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110661563507466807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110661563507466807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110661563507466807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/does-size-matter.html' title='Does size matter?'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110637225004119159</id><published>2005-01-21T21:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T21:37:30.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>obsessed much! </title><content type='html'>okay now this is getting realy stupid. There are very few times that I ever become serious but this is one of those times. The world has become crazy. I dont know what else I can say. There is tomany bloody stalkers out there. Their driving me insane! Theres this one I'm refering to in pacific. He keeps following me everywere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110637225004119159?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110637225004119159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110637225004119159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110637225004119159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110637225004119159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/obsessed-much.html' title='obsessed much! '/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110627767094108962</id><published>2005-01-20T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-20T19:21:10.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>thursdays rock (well not normaly.... but this one did)</title><content type='html'>Oh yay I'm so happy today I got to talk to two of my friends that I don't get a chance talk to that much.  I think I mikght have made one of their ears numb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110627767094108962?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110627767094108962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110627767094108962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110627767094108962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110627767094108962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/thursdays-rock-well-not-normaly-but.html' title='thursdays rock (well not normaly.... but this one did)'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110619058180667100</id><published>2005-01-19T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-19T19:09:41.806-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Evil kiity! </title><content type='html'>He's at it again. Last night I caught him. I went to bed at about 3:30, and woke up at 5:00. I was having another one of those great dreams, and then I felt something warm, hairy, and smelly on my chests. It was Lestat.  For some odd reason he sneeked under my covers and was snuggling with me. It was almost cute.                                                                                                                    Also by some strange turn of events my dads seems to be trying to understand me. I am very close to being content!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110619058180667100?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110619058180667100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110619058180667100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110619058180667100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110619058180667100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/evil-kiity.html' title='Evil kiity! '/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110607850270805286</id><published>2005-01-18T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-18T12:03:14.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Salsa shark</title><content type='html'>Salsa shark du du du du du du du we're going to need a bigger boat. Man gose into cage. Cage gose in to salsa sharks in the salsa our shark! (sorry had to do it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110607850270805286?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110607850270805286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110607850270805286' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110607850270805286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110607850270805286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/salsa-shark.html' title='Salsa shark'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110600087126418759</id><published>2005-01-17T14:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-17T14:27:51.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weee!</title><content type='html'>I'm so happy! I got Fruits Basket dvds today! * dose little hyper dance * I got like six hours of Kyo Sohma, Shigure Sohma, and Yuki Sohma! *grabs Kyo gives him big huge* My kitty *Kyo cuses storm at febil minded fan girl* Ahhh run away! *Holly runs away* ( I know I have a rich fantisy life)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110600087126418759?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110600087126418759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110600087126418759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110600087126418759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110600087126418759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/weee.html' title='Weee!'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110592484712095569</id><published>2005-01-16T16:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-16T17:20:47.120-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lestat the kitty</title><content type='html'>Wow, couldn't sleep last night, and it wasn't because of some strange fantisy. No this time it was Lestat the kitty. He sleeps on my pillow every night, and before you start saying awwwww thats cute: he dosn't do it to be sweet. This cat shall be the insturment of my distrucion. He plots my dimise on a daily baises ( I love the little shit he reminds me of me ). One night I even awoke to him puting his paw out over my nose to see if I was still breathing, and then cursing at his misforution. Last night he was caring out yet another one of his plans, but not just the normaly mind boggling evil plan! No! He was snoring! It was like a chainsaw was going right by my head. At first I was a little conserned I thought he was going through some sort of death rattle. So naturaly I only had two options. I could put him out of his missery by hitting him with a lava lamp, or I could shake him and hope that he came out the epilecktic fit he was having. So in a moument of stupidity I shoke him awake ( bad idea ). That evil kitty gave me a look that could kill, and lached on to my arm. I know now that ny time is short, so I'm sleeping on the coach tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110592484712095569?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110592484712095569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110592484712095569' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110592484712095569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110592484712095569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/lestat-kitty.html' title='Lestat the kitty'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110582013958108396</id><published>2005-01-15T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-15T12:15:39.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Using the window</title><content type='html'>Never show your parents how to do anything new on the computer, I now have to battle three diffirent people to get to check my email. It sucks, and it's not as if we only have one computer it's just that when ever I show any interest in something it is taken away from me. Even my cd player and cds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110582013958108396?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110582013958108396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110582013958108396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110582013958108396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110582013958108396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/using-window.html' title='Using the window'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110573402268613026</id><published>2005-01-14T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-14T12:20:22.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Help Needed </title><content type='html'>Oh please somebody come help me please. some beautiful goth boy must come save me I am traped in brunt woods Oregon. The fucking town consists souly of a store, and a cafe. Thats it ,and I am tired as hell of all the little hicks picking on me cause I'm goth. the nexst one of those fucks who come up to me and ask me a stupid question like " huhut you like black?" I sware I will beat them with a large pointed stick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110573402268613026?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110573402268613026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110573402268613026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110573402268613026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110573402268613026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/help-needed.html' title='Help Needed '/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110564779727335701</id><published>2005-01-13T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-13T12:23:17.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>more me than me</title><content type='html'>Some people scare me and thats hard to do. I mean the boggie man hid under my bed for a reason, but when ever some one starts talking mushy baby talk to around me I just freaze. I don't know why. I had to sit nexst to some guy on the airplane who kept talking on the phone to his wife, and I thought I was going to ralph all over. It was bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110564779727335701?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110564779727335701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110564779727335701' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110564779727335701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110564779727335701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/more-me-than-me.html' title='more me than me'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110559519778480221</id><published>2005-01-12T21:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T21:46:37.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama Queen</title><content type='html'>okay guys I know that my last post was kind of well.....special. Belive me that was one of my more tame dreams I have a overly active imagination. I have come to tearms with it. I also have a split personality named Michael, and if you read the last post then you know that I have a history of sleep walking, yeah I'm a shrinks wet dream. Today I got in to a argument with one of the people I hang out with on the bus. She resorted to sitting on me so I had no choice but to sing Madona. Oh yeah I can be really mean when I'm provoked. You don't want to get on my bad side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110559519778480221?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110559519778480221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110559519778480221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110559519778480221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110559519778480221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/drama-queen.html' title='Drama Queen'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110549851494278278</id><published>2005-01-11T18:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-11T18:55:14.943-08:00</updated><title type='text'>just another one of those days ( meaning not for children yes step way from the monitor kids)</title><content type='html'>okay wow I had the coolest dream last night some thing happend to my parents I dont know what, but any way Brad Pitt adoped me. Ya it was cool! cause then he fell head over heels in love with me, and well we had a private Readywipe party. Ahhhh but heres the big thing I woke up and puked wipe cream (witch is why I wasn't at school today. so don't kill me Chelsea ). So this is either a sign or it was just my sleep walking figer breaking in to some ones house and raiding their frige. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110549851494278278?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110549851494278278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110549851494278278' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110549851494278278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110549851494278278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/just-another-one-of-those-days-meaning.html' title='just another one of those days ( meaning not for children yes step way from the monitor kids)'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110540704985566255</id><published>2005-01-10T17:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-10T17:30:49.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my life as a teen pirate part 2</title><content type='html'>Parents brought home movies today watched Somethings Got to Give. saw way more of Jake Nicoleson then I wanted to(ahhhh). I thought me eye was never going to stop twiching, so my therapy was two watch Vanhelsing now I can't stop thinking of Huge Jakemen in tight black leather or with out I sould say! * drolls on keyboard *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110540704985566255?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110540704985566255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110540704985566255' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110540704985566255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110540704985566255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/my-life-as-teen-pirate-part-2.html' title='my life as a teen pirate part 2'/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10059881.post-110533676235477296</id><published>2005-01-09T21:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T21:59:22.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my life as a teen pirate </title><content type='html'>well the title is a bit misleading. In point of fact I am not a teen pirate at least not in the tardional way ( I dont go about banishing swords in peoples face though sometimes I wish I could) I will tell you more of myself later I am pressed for time now I have to go to school tomorrow so I will say good night for now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10059881-110533676235477296?l=lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/feeds/110533676235477296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10059881&amp;postID=110533676235477296' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110533676235477296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10059881/posts/default/110533676235477296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lestatsnocturnalcompanion.blogspot.com/2005/01/my-life-as-teen-pirate.html' title='my life as a teen pirate '/><author><name>lestatsnocturnalcompanion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08353633379760384953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
