[x]

Bounty HuntersForest Bears seeking vandalizing Blonde. Reward.

The Pact Between Humans and PigeonsFor years I was led to believe we humans had a pact, most probably a silent and unwritten one, with pigeons whose terms were that we appoint eccentric and mostly old people to feed them at various locations throughout our cities and other settlements, and in return they were to fly away off our roads when we drove our cars towards them down said roads.
This morning, less than an hour ago, while I drove my car down the road, a pigeon stood still and did not fly away. I had to stop my car and risk having an accident. Luckily there were no cars behind me and I arrived at my destination safely.
I believe this to be a direct violation of the pact.

NomenclatureJohn collected Sherlock’s post on the way up to 221B. Three letters: addressed to ‘Shurlock Holmes’, ‘Shylock Homes’ and, most impressively of all, ‘Charlotte Hyams’.

Sherlock was lying on the couch thinking, so John left the mail on the coffee table.

“Why ‘Sherlock’?” he asked as he settled down into his armchair.

Sherlock didn’t reply.

“I’ve never come across anyone else with Sherlock as a given name. Did your mother see you for the first time and just think ‘that baby looks like a Sherlock’?”

Sherlock sighed.

“My full name is a

EpitaphDripping radiator:

Not bled. Only seeping.

Thoughts of a shoeOn my first day home I walk. I am colorful, new, and shiny. I am loved. The next day and everyday after I get stepped on. Repeatedly. I always have to go where other people want to go. I get wet, muddy, and sometimes smelly. I do everything asked of me. I run. I jump. I walk. I never complain. I sit there on days I'm not needed and wait. I protect others from glass and rocks and sticks. I wear down of course but it's comfortable isn't it? I do everything for the comfort of others. I may fade but that shows my dedication to protecting others. I go through everything. Rain, snow, sand, dirt. All this and what happens? The second I'm too worn, too old, and too faded I get thrown out. And replaced. Some new, fancy, shiny, and colorful one goes to take my place. To think. I do everything I can for others. Then get replaced like it was nothing. What if you took my place and walked a mile? Then would you be so careless to toss me aside? But I suppose you would. I understand. If I'm full

Surprise Death"I'd just like to say that-"

I May Get Drunk With Power, But I'm Always Honest

Monday Night Raw
18/06/13

The crowd were booing as loud as they could as the new WWE Diva's Champion AJ Lee smirked crazily and patted the championship on her shoulder, saying with a scowl

"There is not a woman in this audience" as she pointed to the fans with a look of distain which got her even more heel heat as she pointed in the direction of the backstage area

"And there is not a woman in that locker-room, there is not a woman in the whole world who is as strong as me!" as she raised her head up and grinned with a hint of sociopathic as she continued

"As smart as me! or as courageous as I am! If there Is a woman back there, who thinks

Words of Apparently Wisdom #1Never try to learn knife-throwing from a one-eared man.

MEDIAManipulating
Emotive
Drivel,
Influencing
Attitudes

A British Chicken in New York - Part 2"And so we began to eat the pemmican, which we were taught to make by the Eskimo's you know." Andrew paused to sip his tea. "Dreadfully cold though. I was assisting Sir Edmund Hillary and, to bolster the morale of our men, I began to do scrimshaw on whale bones we had lying about."

"Did you reach the Pole, then?"

"Oh, heh heh, yes, yes we did. As a matter of fact, Nelson took my picture standing next to Hillary beneath the Union Jack at the Pole itself."

"Nelson?" These biscuits were great, especially with orange marmalade.

"Lord Nelson MacKenzie, the duck I mentioned earlier."

"Oh yes, you were watching butterflies for him."

"Observing

*Saint Peter*Hopefully Saint Peter will welcome me.

2013 Delice1941
19th June2013

Unchained MelodyThe thought came to Jon just as he bit into his toast. Iris sat beside him on the couch, legs comfortably pillowed in his lap as per usual as she watched the news. He tilted his head to one side and observed her thoughtfully, swallowing before he said:

“Have you ever had sex to The Righteous Brothers?”

The bored, tired look she sent him was priceless.

“You’re an idiot.”

aph contest(includes doremifa rondo link)since I first discovered hetalia, I decided to do a contest!
there will be 4 1st place winners. 1st prize winners gets 3 requests from me, and a link to what is a very cute song by a vocaloid.
2nd prize winners will get 100 points for commissions or for preium for me^^
3th place winners gets a commission and 50 points.
runnerups gets 2 requests from me and 40 points, and some hetalia icons below.

:iconchibitaliaplz: :icondoitsuplz: :iconrussiaplz: :iconhreplz: :iconpervyitalyplz: :iconprussiawinplz:

I'll Knock Your Head Into The GameFriday Night Smackdown
14/6/13

As Smackdown came back from commercial, Megan St.Gowens and her smaller best friend Maureen Cunningham were already in the ring, Megan was in her signature black dress attire that hugged her 185 pound frame, her long brown wavy hair was flowing down to her shoulders, she wore black knee pads and black boots and had a smug smirk on her face as she looked to her smaller best friend Maureen, who wore a grey sweater that hugged her petite frame as Lillian Garcia announced

"The following divas match is set for one fall, introducing first in the ring, being accompanied by Maureen Cunningham, she is a member of The T

Anything That Can Go Wrong - 5Anything That Can Go Wrong - Part 5
The Review

“This is bullshit,” Adam Gillis says.

He's refering to a review of Ockym's Razyr's most recent release, Anything That Can Go Wrong, found in a blog called “Notes from the Pit.” The guys decided to send a copy of their 2011 album to the blogger in the hopes of some good press. What they got was obviously not what they were hoping for.

“This asshole doesn't even know what he's talking about,” Josh Randall pipes in. “He says, 'I don't really consider myself a fan of pretend-math metal.' Why is he even writing about us if he doesn't like the music we play?

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Giveaway prompt: Glass

Returning from work, John frowned a bit as he ascended the stairs to the sound of Sherlock wearily calling out from the sitting room, "Johnnn. John. Jawn. Jooohhhhnnn."

John climbed the last stair with a sigh, "What, Sherlock."

"I'm cold. I'm bored and I'm cold and it's dreadful." The man was halfway stooped over, leaning against the window with a dead look upon his face, which was pressed firmly against the glass. His breath had not only fogged on the surface, but had started to frost around the edges where it had been there too long.

"How long have you been there, calling my name?" John came over and tugged Sherlock away from the window,

Oneword: Popcorn

A pounding of feet down the stairs, and John was rushing his way around the flat to hurriedly prepare for work. He was late, but still paused for a moment to sigh in dismay at the state of the sitting room. The couch was a mess, with blankets strewn about everywhere, the telly still on (with a blank screen left over after the DVD player had turned itself off), and an entire bucket of popcorn was spilled and lightly strewn about the floor. It looked almost as though Sherlock had left in as much of a hurry as John was in now.

The weary doctor headed out to work, considering suitable punishments for the mess Sherlock had left behind. The popcor

Giveaway prompt: Elementary

John supposed he should have been less surprised when Moriarty resurfaced. After all, if Sherlock had been able to so convincingly fake his own death, then it stood to reason that the feat was not out of Moriarty's range of capabilities. In the days that followed, Sherlock had been running on a wild goose chase, hunting down every last clue which could possibly bring him closer. After all, his time apart from John, ensuring his safety from those few snipers still loyal to Moriarty, would all be for naught if the mastermind had managed to build up his web again.

Sherlock was pacing anxiously through the flat, flipping through a chemistry text

Giveaway prompt: Midnight

John awoke in the small bed-and-breakfast, his heart still pounding at the sounds of gunfire that his brain had conjured up. A quick glance at his watch (illuminated by the solid moonbeam from the window) told him that it was just a few minutes past midnight. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen, and his coat was missing from the rack near the door.

John frowned and stuffed his feet into his shoes unceremoniously, wrapping his jacket around his pajamas before heading out into the hall to search for Sherlock. A quick glance around told him that the mysterious detective must have made it all the way outside, so with a shudder of anticipation at the

Giveaway prompt: Peacock

Sherlock pouted silently in his armchair, the violin in his arms seemingly forgotten as he watched John flit around the flat, preparing excitedly for his upcoming date. Not that he'd said anything to Sherlock, thinking that a non-mention of the event was a non-invitation, that perhaps it would keep his friend from interfering, just once…

Sherlock sighed, resigned to spend the night alone with his kitchen lab set. He silently agreed with John's silent hope, but JUST this once. He knew that the poor doctor had his needs, and as such felt compelled to seek out women with whom those needs could be met. Sherlock shuddered to think of what ha

Giveaway prompt: Spoon

John sighed when he saw Sherlock sprawled out over all three of the couch cushions, covered in no less than two blankets, his head propped on the arm rest as he stared, glassy-eyed with boredom at the talk-show program currently prattling away through the night. John hadn't been able to get back to sleep after his most recent nightmare (an afghani child, half his body blown away and bleeding profusely). He had sat in bed for a while, trying to forget the look of horror and pain which had remained burned in the backs of his eyes, just listening to the sounds of the city at night, and the muffled talking of the telly downstairs. After awhile, h

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Oneword: Accordion

by ~floppybelly, Jan 15, 2012, 8:59:05 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Humor / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Jean-luc sighed as Data finished his first performance on the new instrument. To be sure, as always, the android had quickly learned how to proficiently play the thing. Picard just hated to be the the one to have to tell Data that no matter how impressive the accordion may look, not everyone would appreciate its... unique sound as much as the violin. He had to remind himself that his advice to the man with no emotions would not be met with disappointment.

Oneword: Accordionby ~floppybelly

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Humor / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

©2012-2013 ~floppybelly

Time to break into yet another fandom! (This prompt did not match my current mood about Sherlock)

(I just watched Reichenbach Falls)

~Siberianchan Feb 27, 2012

... Jean-Luc I feel the need to protest. I would definitely appreciate the accordion.

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~floppybelly Feb 27, 2012 Hobbyist Artisan Crafter

Yeah, but you aren't most starfleet officers

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