Which gives me a real oppurtunity to post this classic advert. Enjoy.

Update: I'm currently really busy, so there will be a lack of new material for a bit.

I actually submitted this story for a competition (a struggling young writer's best friend) this month, but I haven't heard the results yet. I'm pretty doubtful actually. This was also a formatting nightmare after many problems.

Title: Tamed.

Neither Dickens nor Wordsworth could be comprehended in the racket raging around the room. The young man closed his eyes slowly, pleading with his brain to switch off his ears, so he can fall head first into the abyss of literature.

It didn't work; all he could hear was taboo, all he could smell was a vanilla redolence and all he could see was a collage of bulky, smiling faces. Their mouths moved to speak, but the only thing that could be heard was "Blah blah blah blah."

The young adult shuddered, compressed his eyebrows once more in the hope that his teacher would arrive any second. Of course, it didn't help that the teacher's office was on the other side of the school, sheltered in a sound-proof tranquillity, and adorned by the oak desk with its single drawer containing a bottle of Islay whisky.

The worn, middle-aged teacher stumbled in, his tie slack and jacket elbows patched. In his state of slight exhaustion, he looked neither content nor restless. A student slobbered as he lobbed a paper snowball across the room.
"All right, all right, settle down please.", asked the teacher. Some students on the other side of the room snorted quietly. The young man in his wobbly plastic seat reluctantly put his gripping read (albeit, unreadable in the classroom) away and sat up. "Get your texts out please guys.", commanded the teacher, in an emotionally-scarred fashion. The young man already had his text out, but there was still a conundrum of rustling bags, paper and texts.

"Let's start were we left off last time."
"What about the register sir?", interrupted the boy on the back row. The young man saw a look of "I don't do it like that" on the teacher's face, as he ignored the boy with a sigh.
"Anyway...", continued the teacher, "Lucentio, I believe it was your line."
Lucentio sighed and looked randomly through his text until Grumio nudged him and whispered the page number. Lucentio cleared his throat.
"Sir, give him head...", and the class gremlins erupted into laughter.
"Yes, quite.", muttered the kind-hearted, but pushed teacher.

Fifteen minutes and half a page later, the teacher decided to take a break from reading to discuss the first act.
"So, from that first act, what can you tell me about men's attitudes to women in the sixteenth century?" The silence that followed was deafening and unsettling to the young adult on he front row. He stretched his legs weakly and slowly so no noise would be made by him. He even struggled to keep a cough from exploding out of his throat.
"Well, what does it get across?", rephrased the teacher, "What are they saying? What are they doing?" The young man stretched his hand into the air. He got a few looks across at him, of curiosity or of a mocking nature. The teacher gave a slight frown, trying to ignore the stretched arm in the corner of his eye. "Erm, Danni?", called out the teacher. Danni, at the back, was slightly startled, and her chemical fragrance momentarily disappeared.
"wel i fink,", she started, "dat dere ryt sxist."
"Explain.", encouraged the teacher, with a look of hope on his face for the first time of the day.
"dere sellin wimmin 4 mny n shit." Several gremlins hyperventilated with unheard laughter.
"Yes, marriage was seen as a business back then.", explained the teacher, with that shining hopeful look gone. The young man had now lowered his hand and wondered how long it would take for a prostitution joke to spring up (or a joke about things "springing up", he wondered).

The teacher's speech had begun to echo in the young adult's ears, and it began to drone like a vacuum on its lowest setting. Hand gestures and language tips began to fade away into the back of his mind. Everyone else around had monolithic eyes, gawking at the teacher and his mind-bending phrases. The young man's eyes were almost closed and everything in reality went out of focus. He moved his right arm to his blazer pocket, pulled out his gun, and popped himself in the head. The fillings of his cake head leaked onto the floor and walls like jam as the teacher continued to lecture, and the kids continued to gape at the teacher uninterestedly. The young man's remains were still on the floor, waiting for the BBC to arrive.

The young man made his way back to reality in such an instant, it was unfortunate for him.
"So tomorrow we'll, stop fidgeting Alex, tomorrow we'll move onto the next scene."
As Alex, the young adult, sat motionless in his chair, staring into space, tamed.

Well, this the pointless blog for February 2008. The past month hasn't been much of a rollercoaster, other than finalising the story for a NG-themed piece scheduled for Pico Day. Yeah, not many people will read it, but meh, it's getting somewhere I suppose. I'd also like to say this story won't be using any real users names, and it will be focusing around an unkown user.

Other than that, other pieces are on the way, two of them currently available for viewing on Fictionpress. Some more should be available shortly, as well as a poetry collection! Weee!

I guess this links directly to me not sleeping. Don't get me wrong, I don't have to be staying up to write, but it helps. That said, I'm seriously minimising any of the crazy, paranoia, horror parts of my early stories (2004-2005). This is a good thing, believe me. I write so badly in these particular styles, it's a waste of time. I'm probably going ot add dates to Fictionpress submissions too, so I look like less of an amateur :)

College tests have been harvesting my brain over the past month. I think I've done fairly well in the ones that matter, but I think I've done terribly on the tests I did last week. Oh well, can't win them all can you? Also, driving tests. I was meant to be having my second attempt this month, but I've put it back, because my instructor changed car.

So yeah, a pretty slow month. I made some money though, so it can't be that slow :)

Please enjoy.

Story: Pink Cap.

It was a normal day.
"Do you want to come over later?"
"Nah, my mum says going to your house is a distraction."
"She smells."
Dan laughed, "Sorry, can't though."
Dan and James were going through their usual conversation as they came face-to-face with the icy, steel school gates. The gates were only a subordinate to the fence that enveloped the entire school. Topped with deceptively sharp spikes, they weren't exactly the most comfortable school ornaments ever made my man. "Welcome to the land of daisies and cranberry chewing gum", is what it said to visitors, parents and children alike, with a big smile. The Suits enjoyed it though.

Dan and James were not bad students at all, but they had lapses in concentration. Homer Simpson, Will Smith, Sonic the Hedgehog were all heroes for saving the un-noteworthy lessons. The real experience of school was on the field, and both kid and teacher knew it.

The field was vast. Standing at one end as a child, it would go on forever. After this mirage, the field's decorations would appear; the trees around the side (being eaten by the fence, of course) and the black ashes of the November bonfire piled up to the right. Bits of wood were still lying around it, and they were great for swordfights.

Dan and James always hung out at the far end, in the shade of the July sun. It didn't matter if it were against the rules: this way, you stayed a healthy milky white, and you could look through the fence's jaws to the park outside school. Dan and James started their long walk to the shady ghetto,
"Did you hear about that guy?"
"Who?"
"Tony Blair."
"Oh yeah."
"My mum and Dad voted for him."
"What?"
"Haha, you're a twat."
"Damn, you got me."

Jason was already down there, grinning, with his hands in his pockets. He smelt of banana and peanut butter.
"I kissed Jess in Literacy." he blushed, and stood on one leg slightly.
"Aww.", Dan and James chimed in at once, mostly uninterested. They laughed all together for a minute, until Dan brought the crumpled ham sandwich from his lunch box.
"Where's Rich today?"
"He's here. He was in Literacy."
"He'd better be here soon. We need our planner for plans."
Rich and his bright apricot hair were visible at the other end of the field. The whole image was shaking like a hallucination, and it seemed as if Rich's hair had just fallen out; his head had turned into a ham colour. The lines painted onto the pencil grey playground beyond Rich were all dancing in the air in the very distance. It had just got to the part where the hopscotch grid and the snakes and ladders table attempt the tango, before they all screamed in fright, running onto the passing bus. The playground was empty now.

It was soon clear that Rich's hair had not fallen out. He was wearing a pink cap and a casual, but nervous smile. The fence warned him not to get closer with teeth fully baredm and ready to bite.
"Rich, what are you wearing a cap for?"
"It stops my neck from burning in the sun."
"It's pink."
"My Daddy bought it when we on were holiday."
"Are you gay?"
"Do-you-lick-a-dick-a-day?"
"What?"
The other boys laughed harder than they already were. So did the fence.
"Well, you don't need it in the shade. Put it here."
Rich reluctantly placed it on the lime green grass and stared at it briefly.
"The new password is pink cap.", Dan proclaimed, finishing his ham sandwich. James and Jason giggled like girls.
"I thought I got to choose the next password?" muttered a confused Rich.
"Shut up."

The field now hosted fairly sparse groups of gossiping girls, bigbad bullies, boisterous boys and synthetic psychopaths. From the ghetto, you had a view of it all. The only other shady area like this was a benched area cluttered with dust, dirt and girls.

These breaks from fractions and similes almost always revolved around the same things. Dan informed everyone about developments regarding his quest to get to Mannaheim and James talked about the discovery of more syringes in the park, though Rich didn't quite understand.

The fireball beat down onto the field all afternoon, torrid and sweltering. As children danced, played, jumped and thumped, minions of the fence were spawned to keep watch. The minions made sure no one left the boundaries of the fence, and all those within never left the boundaries of the fence.

The minions never believed the guys from the ghetto. They saw them as trouble, playing too close to the fence, as if some day they might knock it down and disrupt order once and for all.

Jess danced past the gang with her friends. They all wore irregular daisy necklaces, held each other's hands and were reeling all around the field. The perverted fence snarled . Jason, as if in a trance, stood on his two legs and floated to where the girls were now still, smiling wickedly.
"Oi, Jayc, where are you goin'?" called James, as Rich looked away into the shade. It was too late: Jason had left safety and fell into the fence's trap; Jess and her devil kin were now lying on an aquamarine field, biting into Jason, in the cool nude.

Dan blinked, and they were all gone.
"Oh my God, they killed Kenny!"
"Those bastards!" finished James and Rich, though Rich didn't quite understand it.

The pink cap was the gang's own instrument of order for now. Dan and James played pass with it for as long as they could. Before Lewis arrived.
"Haha" , wobbled Lewis, "Pink cap!".
"Fuck off Lewis," moaned James, "' surprised your body could make it down here." While James made his threat, Lewis moved surprisingly fast, taking the cap of order into his hands.
"My Daddy got me that!" yelped Rich, who stood up, truly concerned for Order's well-being or just the cap. Lewis "ran" off, with all three of the gang following closely behind.
"Look at the gays!" yelled Lewis excitedly, huffing and puffing in the heat. The various boys all around the field laughed. Jason and the girls laughed. The fence laughed. A tear came into Rich's eye.
"Give it back Lewis." warned Dan.
"Oh, sure." replied Lewis. Lewis got on his knees but he didn't return the cap. Instead, he filled it with mud. Everyone and everything pointed and laughed harder; the Sun beamed. Rich's lip trembled.
"You gays probably don't want this back now." Lewis skipped over to the dried bonfire remains, and produced his Dad's lighter from the pocket of his school trousers.

Rich started crying, and could not make much out after that. He sat in the grass as dark objects filtered away from him gradually, the playground markings reappeared on their homes. After minutes of sniffing and weezing, one figure came toward Rich. He took a long blink.

A thing with black eyes and razor sharp teeth stood over Rich.
"Get into class." it growled, and walked off, as Rich sat still and confused, colder than he'd ever been in his whole life.

Poem: Rabbits or Cats?

I can sit in my room all day, every day,
my computer blinking at me:
"There once was a suicidal turtle" , it reads
and I sigh at my own misguided surrealism.

Screeeeee-
In the next garden, a noises comes
and I screeeee- writing,
screeeee-trouble-screeeeee

I could do that job,
standing naked on the fence, with my hands raised high, and one leg up bent at the knee.
"Get away from this garden, you little bastards."
It requires less concentration and effort.

I thought perhaps it had been a while since I did a blog on here. It might be because I'm busy, or it might be because I dislike the word "blog"...unless Newgrounds is included in the sentence of course! As for busyness, I wish I could keep coming on Newgrounds more often like last year, where I had the "advantage" of being out of work and out of education. I was talking to WilliWowza the other day, and memories of the almost-defunct Newgrounds Paltalk room flooded back to me, so I'll probably give the Newgrounds Chat a try when it's ready!

Back to that education point, at this point, I'm facing two exams this week. Tomorrow and the day after, sociology and psychology respectively. Why am I not revising you ask? Well, I've honestly done so much today, I could draw an accurate map of Talcott Parsons' digestive system and tell you why Stanley Milgram's shock generator study is offensive to Hindus, but let's not go there. Hopefully, I'll have a slightly calmer period after this with more time for writing or BBSing. BBSing in my case means writing things that don't make much sense to anyone other than myself.

Or does it? Not right now, since I'm banned. I'm not complaining though, as I'm guessing it was a fair ban. In summary, I got slightly stressed or whatever and started drinking while on the BBS. Trust me, those aren't a good mix. Anyway, fair play to Jercurpac on that one. My thing about drinking when depressed is something else, but it's no biggie, unless you're a friend of mine and I'm suddenly an alcholic to you now.

In terms of writing poetry/prose (I know it's banned on the BBS now, but some people still ask for my writing, which is reassuring), I've recently finished the 20th out of the 50 poems on the next collection... of course, I'll definately change some of the existing ones. The stories are more cynical perhaps now, with a touch of wry humor. At least it's wry humour to me, we shall have to wait. While Tom himself has commented on writing stuff, it's obviously not a big priority of any sort, so I encourage any budding writers to look through Fourth Perspective, because it's largely used by other Newgrounders, and I heard it's not doing so well. By the way, if you are a writer and you want something read, feel free to share it here :)

Also, I'm tired at the moment, all the time. Luckily college has a coffee machine. 50p a coffee is pretty good for this day and age. So, woo.

Hope you enjoyed reading this installment of boredom.

I'm starting to wish I changed my name to "The-Pompous-Cunt" before the redesign username lockdown.

Yeah, I know. It's strange because everyone's always moaning about how stupid NG is, or is becoming. Hell, even the contacts on my MSN or AIM from Newgrounds tell me how it's going downhill. But I'll tell you now: being unemployed, out of education and staying on Newgrounds all day is much better than going to college too tired, coming back too tired and doing bugger all else.

Obviously I have to make something out of something, unless you could become a "professional Newgrounds user". That'd be great. Tom could make a section at the office for us all, a bit like a now-old-fashioned smoking room...but I don't see that happening. Brace yourself, it's time for a blog...if it's not already started.

Anyway, for those of you who don't know me (which is a fairly large amount I might add), I spent most of my time on the BBS, mostly the General forum but also Wi/Ht and Politics, with odd posts in the C&C now and then. If the BBS was on "wave of stupidity", I would sometimes go to the Paltalk room where I met some...interesting people, and the e-drama sometimes never stopped. Of course, they're all probably topped by the day of the redesign (me being NG-obsessed and unemployed, I was on Paltalk all day), and I don't think it needs explaining, but I'll just say it involved Wade Fulp, The Final Countdown and increasingly frustrating welding noises. But we all survived right?

Before I started jabbering on about Paltalk, I was going to say something about the good old BBS. Yes, it's possible to have decent discussions! Yes, it's possible to make "e-friends" with those big old nasty moderaters! Erm, it's not possible to write stories...but I'll go into that later a little. I any case, it's still my favourite collection of forums probably. Don't think I'm benevolent on the matter though; I don't really miss "lol i ddnt red da rlz rlz r 4 nrds lol", but you get the picture.

As far as writing goes, I could be mean to the BBS mods and say the No Writing Rule put me off Newgrounds (not that they would be offended by a pointless rant anyway). I don't think that's the truth, though I was a little (slight understatement actually...) pissed off by "Find somewhere else to write stories about vampires and zombies" from a mod (I can't actually remember who, or what the exact phrase was). Anyway, regardless, I'm still hoping to get into creative writing (I'm doing all the right courses I think, got a sane amount of passion, and I hope to be using far more brackets in the future). I might release a story collection, non-NG obviously, in the near future so watch this space!

This was supposed to be a paragraph stating I signed up in 2003 and remember when Madness Avenger was no.1 in the top 50. That would be lame. Lamer.

Anyway, I'm ill at the moment, so I'm writing this out of boredom. You can still see my hideous gob on page 3 (haha) of the webcam section. Sometimes it doesn't work because my site sucks or whatever. I do try to update it every week/two weeks.

I hope you enjoyed reading this. In fact, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. That's somewhere near indifferent.

Okay, so I made a new user piccy with my new Webcamupdateyness (special thanks to BlueFlameSkulls). So, vote on it!

1.) Still ugly as sin.
2.) Awww, cute.
3.) ur ghey lol
4.) Other.

What a good way to waste away the afternoon.

I found NG in 2002 by watching Flashes from the Pokemon section (and generally the Asassin section overall), so I'm glad to finally submit something, an audio.

Okay, so it's horribly amateur, sounds awful and is complete experiementation, but it's just good to finally submit something after all these years!

Yes, I love NG that much.

I've started a new story, currently exclusive to Newgrounds. It would be cool if you went and checked that out if your interested in reading and stuff.

Unfortunately (at least for you), I'm not adding any NG users to the story but I promise to continue it for at least a month or two, hopefully longer.

If you check it out, thanks! If you like it, maybe you could bookmark it or something for future reference? :)

Cheers NG!

Well, I'm here making a news post. This is really so people can comment and everything...

I'm in the Paltalk room, which is the equivalent to living in a cuckoo clock. That being said, check it out!

I've got some stories coming soon, which won't be posted here. If you're really interested, comment or PM me.

I'll make a better news post when I'm not so tired.