:) potatoes in harmonic motion :)
posted by gilesy at 11:27 PM
7 comments
1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a ThighMaster.
2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.
8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.
9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.
16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.
18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.
19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
posted by gilesy at 11:13 PM
3 comments
posted by gilesy at 9:28 AM
1 comments
Your overall intelligence quotient is the result of a scientifically-tested formula based on how many questions you answered correctly. But it's only part of what we learned about you from your answers on the test. We also determined the way you process information.
The way you think about things makes you an Intuitive Investigator. This means you have multiple talents and can do anything you set your mind to. You're able to detect numerical patterns easily and are able to grasp the true complexity of the world, both in its details and in a more abstract form. You've got a sharp logical mind and are adept at using words to get even a difficult point across. The combination of all these things makes you truly brilliant.
posted by gilesy at 10:41 PM
0 comments
finally we finished our little cross country excursion and parked in the middle of nowhere..
my uncle's car is like an airplane when it accelerates! he let me take it for a spin :p! it makes a mercedes' engine seem like a kitten trying to roar like a lion - . - trust me. very. powerful. engine. anyway.. we finally arrived at the jetty..
posted by gilesy at 3:08 PM
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posted by gilesy at 8:25 AM
3 comments
posted by gilesy at 3:26 PM
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Cool! i got this from www.thinkbabynames.com go check your own name out! : ) ask jessmin what i am doing surfing this website - . - LOL
The boy's name Giles is pronounced jiles. It is of Greek origin, and its meaning is "young, small goat." From Aigidios. Also possibly means "young shield", referring to the kidskin that ancient shields were made of.
Giles has 11 variant forms: Egide, Egidio, Egidius, Gide, Gil, Gilles, Gillis, Gilliss, Gyles, Jiles and Jyles.
For more information, see also the related name Aegeus. Similar baby name suggestions for Giles are Gillies and Jules. Search for more names similar to Giles starting with Gi-, Gil-, Gile- or ending with -es, -les, -iles.
Giles is a rare male first name as it was not ranked for males of all ages in the 1990 U.S. Census. Giles is a very popular surname, ranking 729 out of 88799 for people of all ages in the 1990 U.S. Census.
Displayed below is the popularity trend for the boy's name Giles as a birth name for newborn babies. Click here to compare Giles with its variants.
posted by gilesy at 2:50 PM
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posted by gilesy at 1:44 PM
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posted by gilesy at 7:33 PM
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good enough to pillion me, even! :D
a little part of the garden...
the estate is huge. - . - it even has a lovely river running through this part, and would make an ideal relaxation spot, IF you discount the gazillion mosquitoes, that is.
posted by gilesy at 6:41 PM
1 comments
don't ask me what im doing. it was supposed to be a comical shot, and everyone agreed to stick out their tongue or do some weird thing, but look! only zq, emily and i look spastic. T.T
posted by gilesy at 5:54 PM
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random tree roots at the beach..
the DnD! brenda and her sp lol.. look at those masks! rEtRo!!
food making competition! this work of art belonged to groupF i think..
kent's card tower! he always spent the talks and seminars building them.. ziqi's job? knocking them down =x oops!
unless she was occupied playing her own card games..
ziqi and me:
emily and me:
gosh why my eyes so puffy! must be all the activities ha! group shots and others all with karen(hint again! :p) ok off to malaysia now!
posted by gilesy at 9:06 PM
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posted by gilesy at 1:58 AM
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He struggled to keep awake, but he could barely keep his eyelids from shutting. The flickering glow from the television was the sole source of light in the cluttered room, and the scent of lavender hung in the air. Outside, a thick silence enveloped the air, so thick it was almost palpable. A light sea breeze rustled through the leaves, and those lying on the ground were swirled up, seemingly waltzing to a merry little tune of their own.
Peering out from beneath his steel-rimmed glasses, he tried, in vain, to make out the moon in the ebony night sky. A distant flash of lightning gave him cause to ponder if a storm might be brewing. Nearing forty years of age, he sported a head of unkempt obsidian hair, but chose to keep neither moustache nor beard. Oh how Clara would flip if she found out he planned to be anything other than clean-shaven, he mused. But he was aware he would do anything for her, and so he left it at that. He leaned back against the sofa, and tried to turn his attention back to the television, but a sudden thought struck him. Reaching idly for his mug of Arabic coffee to his left, his fingers grasped only thin air. Strange, he thought. He could have sworn he’d made himself a steaming hot mug of his favourite blend not too long ago.
A wet muzzle nudging his arm served as a reminder that someone was being neglected. Enough already, he chided Lumps, his 5 year old beagle- but if anything, the prodding seemed to be getting more insistent. Harsh words died on his lips as he turned to see two soulful eyes peeking at him from beneath lush, long lashes.
You miss her too, don’t you? He inquired of his loyal companion. He took the unblinking gaze as a yes, and stretched out to give Lumps a scratch behind the ears. Well, it should only be a couple more hours chum, then you can come with me to pick her up from the airport- what do you say? The furious tail wagging was a much clearer answer. Chuckling, he eased into a standing position. Time to make that mug of coffee, he thought, and strode off purposefully towards the kitchen.
She had always been the one to keep him going- even before they had fallen madly in love with each other. He had been a mere ten years of age when it happened. The sudden and unexpected demise of the one person he cared most for in the whole world. They had attributed her passing to a myriad of reasons, layered thickly in medical terminology. He couldn’t give a damn. He didn’t want to know the why- he just wanted his mummy back. The person who gave the bestest hugs. The person who tucked him in night after night. The person who made his troubles vanish when she smiled her special smile, just for him.
In school a week after his mother’s funeral, all he could think about was how peaceful she had looked, lying there in the coffin, surrounded by the throngs of mourners. She had been a gem to so many others, he noted in grim satisfaction.
An unceremonius prod in his midriff brought him back to reality. He spun around, and came face to face with a girl of minute size, grinning up at him. Then the grin vanished, replaced by a look of concern, the girl’s large doe eyes were the hue of malachite, framed by rings of curly auburn locks. Don’t be sad, she pleaded. He would come to adore that bambi-eyed look in the years to come, not that it hadn’t already caught a sufficient amount of his attention to stop his sniveling. Clara.
He plodded back to the sofa, now with a crudely-made mug grasped tightly in his hand, Lumps following closely at his heel. The mug had been a gift from his son, a not too successful product of the boy’s first pottery class, but a priceless treasure nonetheless. His eyes drifted lazily back to the television, and he took in the scene. A lone car was speeding down a winding mountain path, its headlights sweeping wide arcs as it spiraled. That’s way too fast- no way the driver is going to be able to react to any situation that might crop up. He snorted to express his disdain; he traveled on that sort of road often enough to be qualified as an authority on driving in the mountains. TV nowadays, always a bad influence on our youth, he muttered. He deduced it must be some low budget thriller that didn’t make it to the big screen. Something in the scene seemed out of place, though, and he spent the better part of a minute trying to pinpoint it. Ah there it was- there was a weird looking greenish blotch on the moon. In all his years of life he’d never heard of any phenomenon which gave rise to sickly moons. Don’t tell me they used computers to produce the moon, he thought cynically. They could at least make sure they didn’t botch the job.
This is the part where the large truck comes around the bend and smashes the car off the face of the earth. He was so bored, he tried to predict the outcome of the show. But he was disappointed. The outlandish purple mini cooper continued to speed down the rocky path, but contrary to his prediction, didn’t collide with a lorry when it approached the next bend, a particularly acute turning. Instead, in slow motion, the mini simply went straight on, crashing right through the barrier, and off the side of the ragged mountain. Gah, what a horrid way to die, he sympathized with the driver. The wait while he plunged to his death must be the worst feeling in the world. Just the thought of it caused him to shudder involuntarily. The camera zoomed in on the driver’s seat as the car continued to rocket down the cliff side. The driver’s face could barely be made out, but there was enough light to see the expression on his face. Where he expected a mask of horror and shock to be plastered on, instead he found a serene smile etched on the actor’s weathered features. A smile of calm, of recognition, of acceptance?
Then the television screen went dark, and he grumbled. Now just what sort of ending was that? I should stop watching TV eh chum? It’s getting so brainless nowadays, I’m convinced I must be losing a significant number of braincells. A flick of the remote turned the TV off, and he closed his tired eyes, giving Lumps a back rub. Two hours more, I should think. He continued his wait for Clara.
The shrill screams coming from the infant’s facial orifice were a match for a banshee, but it was music to the ears of the two people in the room. The delivery had been a long drawn ordeal, but surely it must have been worth it. Between them they coddled and cooed to their little bundle of joy- no matter that the red-faced baby probably understood none of it. He looked deep into Clara’s lovely eyes and mouthed: “I love you.” In that instant, nine months of worry and stress vanished from Clara’s face, as she leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on his forehead. She grimaced as she realized the unwiseness of her action, but in that moment- they both felt they were the happiest people in the world.
He woke up a few hours later, stretched, and rubbed his eyes which had crusted over in his nap. There had been no call from Clara, and he was starting to get worried. Maybe her flight had merely been delayed? He tried to placate himself, but was unable to shake off the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Miserable people bunched up in layers of clothing huddled near the fireplace, trying in vain to escape the bone-deep chill caused by the coldest winter in the last decade. He was dressed in only a simple navy blue shirt with a matching pair of pants, but he could barely feel the cold, for his heart was like a block of ice, numb and unfeeling. Clara stood beside him, and chose that moment to bury a sob in his shoulder. He hugged her close, tears welling up in his own eyes. Excusing themselves, they took leave of their relatives and stepped outside. The couple took a short walk to the local church, Clara’s warm hand never once leaving his own. Going through a few doorways into the backyard, they arrived at their destination. They stood in front of the somber grey stone in silence, heads bowed in prayer. Daniel Murroch. 1984-1996. Pneumonia. RIP.
The phone ringing roused him from his reminiscence. He fumbled with the receiver for a moment before placing it on his ear. He’d been expecting Clara’s lilting voice, but the deep timbre of the voice on the other end of the line obviously didn’t belong to his wife. “Is this Mr Murroch? Its
Fifteen minutes later, his car stalled. He cursed in exasperation, and hurried toward the farmhouse across the road. Hearing his predicament, the kindly farmer agreed to see what he could do to fix the car, and even agreed to lend him his own car to get to the airport hospital. Giving the farmer a look of pure gratitude, he buckled himself up, and started up the engine.
After Daniel’s death, Clara seemed to have aged thirty years overnight. They missed their son terribly, and frequently browsed through his worldly possessions, reliving the memories with their youthful, exuberant son. Their love for each other never dwindled, and in fact matured over the years. To their disheartenment, they were unable to produce another child, though not from lack of trying. Thus, they both agreed to get themselves a pet- a poor substitute for a child, but an outlet for their love, nonetheless. That was how Lumps had come into their lives.
He felt more composed as he continued to race down the track. The bumps he felt beneath the tyres told him that it was getting rockier, but he was hard-pressed for time and could ill afford to slow down significantly. He peered ahead anxiously, as the road was getting harder and harder to see; his headlights were fighting a losing battle against the sheer thickness of the gloom around him. It was then he noticed that the farmer’s car was a bright reddish-purple, the fuchsia hued bonnet giving it away. But it barely registered, as his mind was presently occupied with far more pressing issues. The gradient of the road changed gradually, and now it was starting to slope downwards. Subconsciously, his mind started to replay the events of the night, but in a seemingly randomized manner. Small memories bobbed to the surface, only to vanish again an instant later. The phone call, the mug of his favourite Arabic coffee. The way Lumps had stood firmly in the doorway when he was trying to rush out of the house. What had gotten into him? Whimpering and pleading, it seemed as if the dog had been trying to stop him from leaving. The weird TV programme. Something seemed to click then, and his mind struggled to link the threads of thought.
posted by gilesy at 2:08 PM
3 comments
you know what? i forgot to take pictures of the food, although i do have more of drinks.. what was i doing?? hmmm maybe when the food came i concentrated on eating it instead : ) gillian in geraldine's cap, and 2 more xmas tree pics added to my collection!
posted by gilesy at 10:50 PM
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posted by gilesy at 2:21 PM
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posted by gilesy at 2:04 PM
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uh, me? hmm. born in UK, 1985. first burp 1985. first poop 1985. first word? PAPA first step 1985. loves doing homework. hates studying. doesnt watch TV. loves PC. loves movies. loves pool.
