Terveisin rakkaani,
Minulla on ilo kirjoittaa sinulle kaiken kokemani jälkeen, tiedän,
etten ole tavannut sinua ennen enkä nähnyt sinua, mutta uskon, että
olet hyväsydäminen.
Olen neiti Evelyn Lauren, ainoa edesmennyt Paul Bohoun Laurenin tytär
Norsunluurannikolta (Norsunluurannikko).
Isäni jätti summan ($ 5 500 000,00) minulle pankkiin täällä
Norsunluurannikolla (Norsunluurannikolla) ennen äkillistä kuolemaansa,
hän käytti nimeäni perillisenä ja talletuksen lähiomaisena ja myös
edunsaajana. rahat kuolemansa jälkeen, edesmennyt isäni kirjoitti
testamentin ja toimitti sen pankille ja rajoitti minua pääsemästä
käsiksi rahoihin täällä Norsunluurannikolla (Norsunluurannikolla),
ellei sijoituksia ulkomaille.
Pyydän sinua auttamaan minua siirtämään ja vastaanottamaan nämä rahat
pankkitilillesi siellä maassasi, jossa minulla on pääsy
sijoitusrahoihin. Aion myös tehdä yhteistyötä kanssasi elinikäisen
sijoituksen perustamisessa, jossa rahat ylittävät. siellä maassasi.
Ole hyvä ja odotan hyvää vastaustasi viestiini, jotta voin antaa
sinulle lisätietoja tästä sijoituksesta ja keskustella kanssasi lisää
tulevaisuudestani ja eduistani.
Kiitos kun odotan vastaustasi
Neiti Evelyn Lauren
Tuesday, November 9, 2021
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
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Friday, July 22, 2011
Skatr Boi
Song-fic to Avril Lavigne's "Skater Boy"
I got this idea when I was in detention, secretly listening to my ipod. I get detention alot, huh? Guess it's because I listen to my ipod in class.
Skar Boi, no one's POV
Thomas Joseph Ratliff was an average 16-year old troublemaker; His nickname was Tommy Joe and no one dared to call him anything else. He mouthed off to teachers, smoked to much, got himself covered in tattoos, and wasn't the smartest kid in the mix at Burbank Highschool. Tommy's only secret was his crush on Delmy, a rich, popular ballerina who'd probably never give Tommy a minute of her time. Tommy knew all of this, but decided he'd ask her out anyway, and if anyone laughed at him for getting rejected they'd have to pick their teeth off his knuckles.
"He was a boy,
She was a girl,
Can I make it anymore obvious?
He was a punk,
She did ballet,
What more can I say?"
Tommy took a final drag off his cigarette, flicking it to the concrete and stomping it under his CREEPER shoes. He casually walked over to the school entrance where Delmy was gathered with a group of fake blondes in short skirts. Their make-up eyes did a full scan of Tommy as he approached, stopping in front of Delmy.
"Moment, ladies?" He asked, swiping his eyes over all her friends. No one moved, their eyes locked on Tommy, wondering if they should leave Delmy alone with the outcast.
Delmy cleared her throat
"I'll catch up with you guys later." With Delmy's hint, they scattered away, each giving Tommy a final skeptical look.
"He wanted her,
She'd never tell,
But secretly she wanted him as well.
And all of her friends,
Stuck up their nose,
And they had a problem with his baggy clothes."
"You wanna go to a movie sometime?" Tommy was clear and straightforward, one of the things Delmy secretly loved about him.
"Uh, s-sorry, I don't think..... well, you're not really... my type." She lied, immediately regretting it. She knew if she didn't admit her admiration for Tommy now he's be too proud to ever give her a second glance.
"Alright then, I'll see you around." He walked off, just like that, walked right into the schools front doors and out of Delmy's life.
"He was a skater boy,
She said 'See ya later, boy'
He wasn't good enough for her.
She had a pretty face,
But her head was up in space,
She needed to come back down to earth."
*Years Later*
Delmy sighed as she settled onto the couch in her small apartment. She'd just put her son to bed and wanted to relax a little. Her mind wandered, if only she had said yes to Tommy, maybe things would be different. Maybe they'd be married and happy, maybe she wouldn't have gotten pregnant, and still had her ballerina figure. She laughed sadly, thinking 'Well look at me now. I was perfect for Tommy all along.' She thought about him daily, wanted to hear anything about him. Tommy had likely dropped off the face of the earth; he dropped out of school, took everything he had and just left, no one's heard from him since.
"Five years from now,
She sits at home,
Feeding the baby,
She's all alone."
Delmy reached for the remote lying on the other side of the couch and clicked the TV on. Some music channel was playing a concert, a tall, raven haired male with a gorgeous voice was singing. A box appeared on the screen, naming the artist and the song. Apparently Adam Lambert was singing Fever. Delmy watched as he strutted over to a tiny blonde leaning over a guitar, blonde bangs hanging like a veil over his face. The blonde looked up, hair flattening over his features. He had perfect eye makeup, a cute little nose, and the prettiest, fullest lips ever found on a male. Delmy gasped, Tommy, the blonde was Tommy!
"She turns on TV,
guess who she sees,
Skater boy rockin' on MTV."
Adam leaned down, tackling Tommy's perfect lips with his own; Delmy's heart sank. Tommy was obviously kissing back, obviously happy with this Lambert guy, and the only thing she can do is regret.
"Sorry, girl,
But you missed out.
Well, tough luck,
That boy's mine now.
We are more than just good friends.
This is how the story ends."
I got this idea when I was in detention, secretly listening to my ipod. I get detention alot, huh? Guess it's because I listen to my ipod in class.
Skar Boi, no one's POV
Thomas Joseph Ratliff was an average 16-year old troublemaker; His nickname was Tommy Joe and no one dared to call him anything else. He mouthed off to teachers, smoked to much, got himself covered in tattoos, and wasn't the smartest kid in the mix at Burbank Highschool. Tommy's only secret was his crush on Delmy, a rich, popular ballerina who'd probably never give Tommy a minute of her time. Tommy knew all of this, but decided he'd ask her out anyway, and if anyone laughed at him for getting rejected they'd have to pick their teeth off his knuckles.
"He was a boy,
She was a girl,
Can I make it anymore obvious?
He was a punk,
She did ballet,
What more can I say?"
Tommy took a final drag off his cigarette, flicking it to the concrete and stomping it under his CREEPER shoes. He casually walked over to the school entrance where Delmy was gathered with a group of fake blondes in short skirts. Their make-up eyes did a full scan of Tommy as he approached, stopping in front of Delmy.
"Moment, ladies?" He asked, swiping his eyes over all her friends. No one moved, their eyes locked on Tommy, wondering if they should leave Delmy alone with the outcast.
Delmy cleared her throat
"I'll catch up with you guys later." With Delmy's hint, they scattered away, each giving Tommy a final skeptical look.
"He wanted her,
She'd never tell,
But secretly she wanted him as well.
And all of her friends,
Stuck up their nose,
And they had a problem with his baggy clothes."
"You wanna go to a movie sometime?" Tommy was clear and straightforward, one of the things Delmy secretly loved about him.
"Uh, s-sorry, I don't think..... well, you're not really... my type." She lied, immediately regretting it. She knew if she didn't admit her admiration for Tommy now he's be too proud to ever give her a second glance.
"Alright then, I'll see you around." He walked off, just like that, walked right into the schools front doors and out of Delmy's life.
"He was a skater boy,
She said 'See ya later, boy'
He wasn't good enough for her.
She had a pretty face,
But her head was up in space,
She needed to come back down to earth."
*Years Later*
Delmy sighed as she settled onto the couch in her small apartment. She'd just put her son to bed and wanted to relax a little. Her mind wandered, if only she had said yes to Tommy, maybe things would be different. Maybe they'd be married and happy, maybe she wouldn't have gotten pregnant, and still had her ballerina figure. She laughed sadly, thinking 'Well look at me now. I was perfect for Tommy all along.' She thought about him daily, wanted to hear anything about him. Tommy had likely dropped off the face of the earth; he dropped out of school, took everything he had and just left, no one's heard from him since.
"Five years from now,
She sits at home,
Feeding the baby,
She's all alone."
Delmy reached for the remote lying on the other side of the couch and clicked the TV on. Some music channel was playing a concert, a tall, raven haired male with a gorgeous voice was singing. A box appeared on the screen, naming the artist and the song. Apparently Adam Lambert was singing Fever. Delmy watched as he strutted over to a tiny blonde leaning over a guitar, blonde bangs hanging like a veil over his face. The blonde looked up, hair flattening over his features. He had perfect eye makeup, a cute little nose, and the prettiest, fullest lips ever found on a male. Delmy gasped, Tommy, the blonde was Tommy!
"She turns on TV,
guess who she sees,
Skater boy rockin' on MTV."
Adam leaned down, tackling Tommy's perfect lips with his own; Delmy's heart sank. Tommy was obviously kissing back, obviously happy with this Lambert guy, and the only thing she can do is regret.
"Sorry, girl,
But you missed out.
Well, tough luck,
That boy's mine now.
We are more than just good friends.
This is how the story ends."
Tacos: an Adommy one-shot
Taco, Tommy's POV,
"Make me a taco?" I begged, sliding into Adams lap and wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Make yourself a taco!" Adam half protested and half whined.
"Noooooo! I don't wanna make a taco! I can't cook!" I pouted, sticking my bottom lip out as far as I could push it.
"Can't you go to, like, Taco Bell?" He questioned. I unclasped my hands from his neck, placing one over my stomache and one over my mouth and proceeded to dramatically fake puke on his carpet.
"Taco Bell is gross! They don't even use MEAT."
"Then what the hell do you think they use?" Adam asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
"Pwease make me a taco?" I pleaded, making the cutest eyes I could manage.
"Shhhh! True Blood is back on!" Adam whined. I sighed and removed myself from his lap.
"If I fuck up your kitchen it's not my fault!" I started walking away, down the hallway to the apartments kitchen.
"If you fuck up my kitchen you'll get your ass in a french maid dress and clean it up." He called.
"You wish, Lambert." I teased
"I sure as hell do, Ratliff." He yelled back.
So. Tacos. Tacos need meat (unless you work at Taco Bell.) Meat is kept in the freezer. Or the fridge, or what the fuck ever. And to cook you need pans, right? I stared horrified ad the array of cabinets in this kitchen. Where the hell did Adam keep the pans? I picked a cabinet over the sink to check first. I pulled the metal handle and the mini door swung open a little too quickly, a tall cup made of frosted glass falling to the marble floor with a loud shattering sound. Damnit. I hope Adam didn't hear.
"I'll go get that maid outfit." Shit. He heard. Just play this off, Tommy.
"You know my size." Was the best comeback line I could think of.
"Kay, I'll be right back." I heard his car keys clink and the door shut. Was he really going to get a maid outfit? I asked myself. Oh, who cares? This could be fun. I giggled to myself as I heard the scraping metal as the garage slipped opened and closed again, headlights shone through the house as he backed out of the driveway.
I finally found a pan in a cabinet nearest the fridge, of course the last one I looked in. Next I had to raid Adams fridge, technically it was ours since I'd recently moved in, but Adam did all the shopping while I ordered take out most of the time and made Adam get me drinks since I was so lazy.
I managed to find ground beef, onions, green peppers, and taco shells scattered around the fridge. It was like a damn scavenger hunt. So, now the stove. Was 9 to high? Didn't that setting, like, make water boil or something? Since I really didn't know how this worked I just decided on 5, the middle number. I pulled out a knife from the silverware drawer (At least THAT was easy to find.) Didn't onions make people cry? Guess we'll find out. I cut the onion in half easily, fourths, eights, sixteens, I just had to dice it. This should be fucking fantastic. I lined the blade up with a larger piece, maybe this would be easiest to cut? Wrong. One stroke of my wrist and the jagged metal met my thumb. Fuck. It didn't hurt, but there was blood on both the onion and the counter. I disposed of the bloodied onion and threw the large non-bloody chunks into the pan and was greeted with hissing. Was 5 to high? Oh well. I skipped the peppers and just threw the meat in, staring as nothing happened but more sizzling. How long was this gonna take? I poked at it with a fork, stared at it for five minutes, flipped the block of frozen meat over. Nothing.
I got bored quickly, and ran upstairs to our shared music room. I picked up my baby, my pretty cherry red bass guitar and started strumming.
The loud, obnoxious screech of a smoke alarm pulled my head from guitar land. I rushed downstars, no fire, just a shit ton of thick, black smoke. Adam's gonna be pissed. I clicked the burner off with the little white nob and pulled the pan of of it, blackened meat and onions sticking to the bottom and sides of it. Now what? I left the smoking pan on a counter top, probably leaving burn marks on it, and walked back to the living room. Guess I'd wait for Adam to get back with my maid outfit.
The garage door metal screeched again and Adams horn went off as he pressed the lock button on the key box. The door was unlocked, and it was his house, so he walked right in, a bag in each hand.
"How were your tacos?" Adam smirked at me.
"Burnt." I mumbled.
"Awww, I'm sorry, Glitters."
"You'll be more sorry when you see that kitchen." It was my turn to smirk at him. He pulled a take out box marked "Taco Cabana" from one bag and, sure enough, a maid outfit from the other.
"Be a good kitty and go clean up the kitchen then I'll give you a taco." He smiled seductively and threw the outfit at me. This'll be fun.
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