Oh to be sure, it's not completely without some mild devious pleasure, but then again squirrels are pests in many places and can cause property damage. For all we know, this was a repeat offender. Would we find it as cruel if it were a cockroach flinger? At the very least, this is more humane than a trap, and much less effective (there wasn't any bait that I could see). []
Everything's coming up Treehouse
It Made My Day
+17
Tuomey
Messernacht
SQUIGGLES
Travelcube
Hollyღ
Samiam
Jonny
Gorgro
Moltenfield
Tacoline
AwesomeMedic
Ziggles
someguy3657
JT_the_Ninja
Katls
Top Hat Zebra
D-Munny
21 posters
Message [Page 21 of 40]
502
Re: It Made My Day Wed Apr 18, 2012 10:02 am
Top Hat Zebra
Squirrels get shot in the face and eaten where I come from.
Who traps squirrels???
Who traps squirrels???
503 Re: It Made My Day Wed Apr 18, 2012 10:32 am
D-Munny
IMMD: So at lunch, a guy I was sitting with inadvertnatly got a wad of gum stuck on his pants, and couldn't get it all out. His girlfriend tried to help him, and the result was an awkward viewing angle from where I was sitting, so all I saw was both of their hands down by his lap just underneath the table, him making odd noises, and her saying "Oh my God, I can't believe I'm actually touching it!."
Lulz ensued.
Lulz ensued.
504 Re: It Made My Day Thu Apr 19, 2012 4:06 pm
Top Hat Zebra
IMMD:
*Skip to 4:00*
This is a thing one of the Hawaiian Bronies did for an English class.
This guy is really brave, going up there and talking about all that. I applaud him.
*Skip to 4:00*
This is a thing one of the Hawaiian Bronies did for an English class.
This guy is really brave, going up there and talking about all that. I applaud him.
505 Re: It Made My Day Thu Apr 19, 2012 4:35 pm
Ziggles
Good for that guy, I suppose. But what's so wrong with being depressed?
(Something unrelated I just realized: I really dislike it when 'depressed' is used to mean the same thing as 'sad' or 'melancholy'. Depression is a state of mind that encompasses everything you do for any period of time and can affect you for years on end. Melancholy is when your Xbox console goes all red ring of death on you.)
(Something unrelated I just realized: I really dislike it when 'depressed' is used to mean the same thing as 'sad' or 'melancholy'. Depression is a state of mind that encompasses everything you do for any period of time and can affect you for years on end. Melancholy is when your Xbox console goes all red ring of death on you.)
506 Re: It Made My Day Thu Apr 19, 2012 4:42 pm
Top Hat Zebra
Being depressed sucks, and people tend to not want to be depressed.
507 Re: It Made My Day Thu Apr 19, 2012 5:04 pm
Ziggles
...No shit. But it's not something to be ashamed of.
I get what this dude's saying when he says he's not in a slump, he's headed in a new direction. And it's true that when someone's depressed they do and say things they ordinarily wouldn't. I'm trying to work this out in my head but I can't right now, because I'm too tired.
WAIT FUCK. Zebra, listen to me. We should be cool. We cool?
IMMD: Did a good job at UIL Competition, mostly. My sister got me some pretty flowers. I don't feel like I did anything to warrant a bunch of flowers, but I do love flowers, so hey.
I get what this dude's saying when he says he's not in a slump, he's headed in a new direction. And it's true that when someone's depressed they do and say things they ordinarily wouldn't. I'm trying to work this out in my head but I can't right now, because I'm too tired.
WAIT FUCK. Zebra, listen to me. We should be cool. We cool?
IMMD: Did a good job at UIL Competition, mostly. My sister got me some pretty flowers. I don't feel like I did anything to warrant a bunch of flowers, but I do love flowers, so hey.
508 Re: It Made My Day Thu Apr 19, 2012 5:11 pm
Top Hat Zebra
Ziggy Stardust wrote:
WAIT FUCK. Zebra, listen to me. We should be cool. We cool?
Uh.... Yeah?
509 Re: It Made My Day Sat Apr 21, 2012 4:53 am
someguy3657
IMMD: So, today, from 9 AM to 3 PM, I pretend to be a patient for some students who are passing tests at University. I lay in a bed all day, pretending to sleep and answering some questions about my health after I had an ''operation''. I even get a free lunch.
And I'm getting paid 90 bucks for this.
And I'm getting paid 90 bucks for this.
510 Re: It Made My Day Sat Apr 21, 2012 4:59 am
D-Munny
IMMD: So I went to teach at a beginner class today,and as I walked in, two girls immediatley recognized and greeted me.
That feel never gets old.
That feel never gets old.
511 Re: It Made My Day Sat Apr 21, 2012 10:30 am
Messernacht
someguy3657 wrote:IMMD: So, today, from 9 AM to 3 PM, I pretend to be a patient for some students who are passing tests at University. I lay in a bed all day, pretending to sleep and answering some questions about my health after I had an ''operation''. I even get a free lunch.
And I'm getting paid 90 bucks for this.
I remember several times, when money was tight, I paid for my weekly groceries by doing this sort of thing. It's great.
512 Re: It Made My Day Sat Apr 21, 2012 11:41 am
Gorgro
Glorious Leader
IMMD: Khan Academy. Learning is fun again! I'm using this to prepare for my math classes next year.
513 Re: It Made My Day Sat Apr 21, 2012 3:39 pm
Taiju
IMMD: Everyone on my block has no electrical power. I do though. Weird...
517 Re: It Made My Day Mon Apr 23, 2012 3:37 am
someguy3657
I kinda want to read that, but, at the same time, do not want
519 Re: It Made My Day Mon Apr 23, 2012 7:53 pm
Bowen
IMMD: A few weeks ago, I posted about having to write a short story. Got my marks back today, I got full marks on it. Feels good.
521 Re: It Made My Day Mon Apr 23, 2012 8:46 pm
Bowen
Ok.
Just for context, it had to represent change, and had a 1650 word count limit.
Spoilered for length.
Just for context, it had to represent change, and had a 1650 word count limit.
Spoilered for length.
- Spoiler:
Storytime
It was a fine spring day, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping and Gary was photosynthesising like a champion. Gary was quite tall and thickset, stretching 8 metres into the air, with a typical leafcut for someone his age, which was to simply let the leaves grow. He was tinged a deep woody brown colour. People said he was built like an oak tree, partially because of his physique and upbringing – plenty of exercise, like being blown around and flailing around in the wind every day, with fresh clean carbon dioxide in massive breaths. But mainly he looked like an oak tree because he was an oak tree. Oak trees tend to look that way. I mean, I don’t like to stereotype, but all oak trees look like oak trees.
On this particular day, Gary was doing what he did every day: Sitting around, absorbing sunlight and nutrients. It wasn’t as if he had much choice, being a tree and all. But still, he enjoyed it immensely. He looked over the ground where he grew, which was fairly impressive, given that he had no eyes, but it’s lucky he could see and look around, or the story would be quite dull, so let’s just roll with it. Anyway, as he looked about, he saw what he saw every day. A large field stretching out ahead of him and behind him a small cluster of trees. He waved at them, and they waved back, but not of greeting, it was just a breeze causing them to do that.
“Today.” Gary thought, “Today will be a good day. Just like every day.”
He concentrated on feeling the warmth of the sun, the breeze through his leaves, the sucking of nutrients through roots and the slow steady flow of his sap. And so the day continued onwards, until…
It was around 4 PM when Gary spotted them. Some people were heading his way. He felt overjoyed. He liked people. They were very good company, often sitting under the shade he provided and talking for hours. Gary loved to listen to people talk, they always had new things to hear, like about new people coming to town, gossiping about the townsfolk and all sorts of fascinating things. However, he noticed that these people looked….rougher. More… battered than the usual visitors.
“Still...” he reasoned “There’s no reason they can’t still be great company. “Ooh! Maybe they’ll have some stories to tell about why they look so rough! That’d be great!”
He looked closer at the two men approaching him. They didn’t look like they were here to talk like the other guests. They usually carried baskets with food or drinks, or other things people tended to enjoy whilst sitting in the shade. They were both carrying something, though. It looked strange to Gary. The… things they were carrying looked like wooden rods with a strange metallic wedge on the end.
“Gosh.” Thought Gary. “Maybe it’s a new sort of tool. Maybe they’re going to do some work nearby. That’d be really interesting!”
Gary continued to watch with growing interest. He would have shook with excitement, but he was a tree, so he didn’t. Instead he just sat there. Like a tree would. Because he was a tree, you see.
Eventually, the men reached him and halted their walk. One of them, a middle aged man dressed in dirty brown trousers and a stained white shirt with a face that looked like it had seen too much sun and too many bruises looked critically at Gary.
“Reckon this one will do?” He grunted, after a good minute of staring rather piggishly at Gary.
Gary felt rather self conscious at that. The calculating stare was awkward enough, being asked if he was good enough at….whatever the man wanted…. Just added to the awkwardness. He would have shuffled his feet and covered his face in embarrassment but he was a….You get the point…
Fortunately, the other man, a younger but still rough looking gentleman came to his rescue.
“Aww, come on dad.” He said. “It’s plenty big enough, let’s not overdo it.” The young man whined.
“Alright, let’s get it done. You sure your axe is sharp enough?” Enquired the older man.
The younger man touched the tip of his tool and grunted “Yep. Sharp enough, I reckon” He replied.
“Aha! So the things they are called “axes”! I wonder what they’re fo-AAARRRGH!” Gary screamed, or at least mentally, because he was a tree and could not scream in actuality, as the first axe bit into his side. And continued to, as the axe blows rained down time and time again. This was torture, beyond words. Not even when a storm had torn an old branch off his body had he felt such mind flaying agony. The cruel and unending crime torture continued for what felt like years, he felt his mind slowly fade as the pain threatened to draw him into the void of unconsciousness.
But unconsciousness did not claim him, and he could only scream-mentally, of course, as his body was violently sliced away, bit by bit until he felt a pain that was somehow MORE agonising that the axe blows. Slowly, he began to crack at the base, where the men had cut him. He could feel his wood tearing itself away from itself, as his immense weight pulled him down. The last thing he saw was him. The stump he left behind, cruelly chewed and mangled by the men’s axes. His mind, which had been screaming at him to find something he could do to stop this from happening offered up:
“Well, I’m stumped.” He would have giggled hysterically, but he was in too much pain. Also, a tree. He passed out.
The next sequence of events was a blur. Gary remembered waking, screaming (mentally, of course) as he felt even more pain. Sawing. He held against the darkness for a few moments but the pain from the serrated blade sent him tumbling back behind the doors of unconsciousness. This happened several times. Awaken. Saws. Pain, agony curling through his body. Blackness. And then, the last time it happened, he felt another new pain. His vision too darkened with pain, and mind fogged he could only make out that it was like tiny spikes being driven into him, before finally passing out for the last time.
Gary awoke, slowly drifting out of the fog of unconsciousness. He was surprised that he was waking up at all. The pain was gone, but he was still confused and slow. His thoughts drifted lazily through his mind, like glaciers. But after a while, he began to notice that there was something wrong with him. His body felt smaller, thinner, shorter and….Flat? Slowly, he looked over his body with mounting horror. He WAS shorter, he WAS thinner and most freakishly, he WAS flat.
“I’m flat! Why the fuck am I flat?! Who made me flat!? Trees are not meant to flat! The person who made me flat does not understand how trees work! We aren’t mean to be flat! God damn it!” Gary mentally yelled.
“And what the FUCK is THIS!?” He cried out. He had noticed the massive iron door knob embedded in him. Gary panicked, he knew the men that had cut him down had done this, and soon they would return to do it more terrible things to him. He…..did nothing. He couldn’t. He was a tree, and now he was a door. Both can’t do much without outside interaction. So he settled for panicking, again.
But nothing happened. He spent several minutes gazing all around him but there was no-one there. He calmed down a bit, and looked at the room he was the door to properly. It was a large stone floored room, with thick wooden walls. He was slightly sickened by all the wood around, clearly torn from other trees like him. Tables, shelves, chairs, a large curving counter, there was wood everywhere.
But despite all this, nothing happened. For several hours. Eventually, however, he heard stirrings from a nearby room. After a bit of grunting and rustling, the man who had cut him down wandered into the room. Gary would have jumped back in fear and surprise, but he was a door. So he sat there and watched the man in terror. But he seemed uninterested in Gary. He wandered around, cleaning a few tables and other parts of the room. After a while, Gary began hearing noises outside. There was a steady sound of footprints getting closer, and then, he felt a lurching movement as he was pushed away, and a large man strode past.
“Mornin’ Tom. Pour us a beer, will yer?” The man grunted. He shuffled over to one of the stools and sat down.
“Mornin’ John. How’s life?” The man Gary now knew as Tom replied, as he poured a liquid, beer, Gary assumed, into a mug and handed it to the one called John.
“Ahh, not to bad. But listen to this!” John launched into a story. It won’t be listed, because the author wanted to avoid going over the word count, but know that there was a story being told.
Gary listened in fascination, fear forgotten completely. The story was good; he wished he could hear another. And he did. A few minutes after the story had died away, another two men stepped into the room, chatting about their work. Then, after finishing, another story started up. All day, people would come in and talk, Gary listening in amazement.
“Maybe” he thought “Maybe this isn’t so bad after all. I kinda like this. So many stories! This is all so different, but…I really do like it!”
And so Gary accepted being a door and grew to love it rather quickly, so that the author didn’t go over the word limit.
The End
522 Re: It Made My Day Mon Apr 23, 2012 11:43 pm
Hollyღ
Dove in the Moonlight
Bowen wrote:Ok.
Just for context, it had to represent change, and had a 1650 word count limit.
Spoilered for length.
- Spoiler:
Storytime
It was a fine spring day, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping and Gary was photosynthesising like a champion. Gary was quite tall and thickset, stretching 8 metres into the air, with a typical leafcut for someone his age, which was to simply let the leaves grow. He was tinged a deep woody brown colour. People said he was built like an oak tree, partially because of his physique and upbringing – plenty of exercise, like being blown around and flailing around in the wind every day, with fresh clean carbon dioxide in massive breaths. But mainly he looked like an oak tree because he was an oak tree. Oak trees tend to look that way. I mean, I don’t like to stereotype, but all oak trees look like oak trees.
On this particular day, Gary was doing what he did every day: Sitting around, absorbing sunlight and nutrients. It wasn’t as if he had much choice, being a tree and all. But still, he enjoyed it immensely. He looked over the ground where he grew, which was fairly impressive, given that he had no eyes, but it’s lucky he could see and look around, or the story would be quite dull, so let’s just roll with it. Anyway, as he looked about, he saw what he saw every day. A large field stretching out ahead of him and behind him a small cluster of trees. He waved at them, and they waved back, but not of greeting, it was just a breeze causing them to do that.
“Today.” Gary thought, “Today will be a good day. Just like every day.”
He concentrated on feeling the warmth of the sun, the breeze through his leaves, the sucking of nutrients through roots and the slow steady flow of his sap. And so the day continued onwards, until…
It was around 4 PM when Gary spotted them. Some people were heading his way. He felt overjoyed. He liked people. They were very good company, often sitting under the shade he provided and talking for hours. Gary loved to listen to people talk, they always had new things to hear, like about new people coming to town, gossiping about the townsfolk and all sorts of fascinating things. However, he noticed that these people looked….rougher. More… battered than the usual visitors.
“Still...” he reasoned “There’s no reason they can’t still be great company. “Ooh! Maybe they’ll have some stories to tell about why they look so rough! That’d be great!”
He looked closer at the two men approaching him. They didn’t look like they were here to talk like the other guests. They usually carried baskets with food or drinks, or other things people tended to enjoy whilst sitting in the shade. They were both carrying something, though. It looked strange to Gary. The… things they were carrying looked like wooden rods with a strange metallic wedge on the end.
“Gosh.” Thought Gary. “Maybe it’s a new sort of tool. Maybe they’re going to do some work nearby. That’d be really interesting!”
Gary continued to watch with growing interest. He would have shook with excitement, but he was a tree, so he didn’t. Instead he just sat there. Like a tree would. Because he was a tree, you see.
Eventually, the men reached him and halted their walk. One of them, a middle aged man dressed in dirty brown trousers and a stained white shirt with a face that looked like it had seen too much sun and too many bruises looked critically at Gary.
“Reckon this one will do?” He grunted, after a good minute of staring rather piggishly at Gary.
Gary felt rather self conscious at that. The calculating stare was awkward enough, being asked if he was good enough at….whatever the man wanted…. Just added to the awkwardness. He would have shuffled his feet and covered his face in embarrassment but he was a….You get the point…
Fortunately, the other man, a younger but still rough looking gentleman came to his rescue.
“Aww, come on dad.” He said. “It’s plenty big enough, let’s not overdo it.” The young man whined.
“Alright, let’s get it done. You sure your axe is sharp enough?” Enquired the older man.
The younger man touched the tip of his tool and grunted “Yep. Sharp enough, I reckon” He replied.
“Aha! So the things they are called “axes”! I wonder what they’re fo-AAARRRGH!” Gary screamed, or at least mentally, because he was a tree and could not scream in actuality, as the first axe bit into his side. And continued to, as the axe blows rained down time and time again. This was torture, beyond words. Not even when a storm had torn an old branch off his body had he felt such mind flaying agony. The cruel and unending crime torture continued for what felt like years, he felt his mind slowly fade as the pain threatened to draw him into the void of unconsciousness.
But unconsciousness did not claim him, and he could only scream-mentally, of course, as his body was violently sliced away, bit by bit until he felt a pain that was somehow MORE agonising that the axe blows. Slowly, he began to crack at the base, where the men had cut him. He could feel his wood tearing itself away from itself, as his immense weight pulled him down. The last thing he saw was him. The stump he left behind, cruelly chewed and mangled by the men’s axes. His mind, which had been screaming at him to find something he could do to stop this from happening offered up:
“Well, I’m stumped.” He would have giggled hysterically, but he was in too much pain. Also, a tree. He passed out.
The next sequence of events was a blur. Gary remembered waking, screaming (mentally, of course) as he felt even more pain. Sawing. He held against the darkness for a few moments but the pain from the serrated blade sent him tumbling back behind the doors of unconsciousness. This happened several times. Awaken. Saws. Pain, agony curling through his body. Blackness. And then, the last time it happened, he felt another new pain. His vision too darkened with pain, and mind fogged he could only make out that it was like tiny spikes being driven into him, before finally passing out for the last time.
Gary awoke, slowly drifting out of the fog of unconsciousness. He was surprised that he was waking up at all. The pain was gone, but he was still confused and slow. His thoughts drifted lazily through his mind, like glaciers. But after a while, he began to notice that there was something wrong with him. His body felt smaller, thinner, shorter and….Flat? Slowly, he looked over his body with mounting horror. He WAS shorter, he WAS thinner and most freakishly, he WAS flat.
“I’m flat! Why the fuck am I flat?! Who made me flat!? Trees are not meant to flat! The person who made me flat does not understand how trees work! We aren’t mean to be flat! God damn it!” Gary mentally yelled.
“And what the FUCK is THIS!?” He cried out. He had noticed the massive iron door knob embedded in him. Gary panicked, he knew the men that had cut him down had done this, and soon they would return to do it more terrible things to him. He…..did nothing. He couldn’t. He was a tree, and now he was a door. Both can’t do much without outside interaction. So he settled for panicking, again.
But nothing happened. He spent several minutes gazing all around him but there was no-one there. He calmed down a bit, and looked at the room he was the door to properly. It was a large stone floored room, with thick wooden walls. He was slightly sickened by all the wood around, clearly torn from other trees like him. Tables, shelves, chairs, a large curving counter, there was wood everywhere.
But despite all this, nothing happened. For several hours. Eventually, however, he heard stirrings from a nearby room. After a bit of grunting and rustling, the man who had cut him down wandered into the room. Gary would have jumped back in fear and surprise, but he was a door. So he sat there and watched the man in terror. But he seemed uninterested in Gary. He wandered around, cleaning a few tables and other parts of the room. After a while, Gary began hearing noises outside. There was a steady sound of footprints getting closer, and then, he felt a lurching movement as he was pushed away, and a large man strode past.
“Mornin’ Tom. Pour us a beer, will yer?” The man grunted. He shuffled over to one of the stools and sat down.
“Mornin’ John. How’s life?” The man Gary now knew as Tom replied, as he poured a liquid, beer, Gary assumed, into a mug and handed it to the one called John.
“Ahh, not to bad. But listen to this!” John launched into a story. It won’t be listed, because the author wanted to avoid going over the word count, but know that there was a story being told.
Gary listened in fascination, fear forgotten completely. The story was good; he wished he could hear another. And he did. A few minutes after the story had died away, another two men stepped into the room, chatting about their work. Then, after finishing, another story started up. All day, people would come in and talk, Gary listening in amazement.
“Maybe” he thought “Maybe this isn’t so bad after all. I kinda like this. So many stories! This is all so different, but…I really do like it!”
And so Gary accepted being a door and grew to love it rather quickly, so that the author didn’t go over the word limit.
The End
Still a better love story then Twilight.
- Spoiler:
- I also see what you did there
523 Re: It Made My Day Tue Apr 24, 2012 1:21 am
JT_the_Ninja
Ninjafleet Captain
Wait, you weren't penalized for curse words in your story? []
524 Re: It Made My Day Tue Apr 24, 2012 1:39 am
Bowen
No. They made us read a story that had love tenderly within a dozen or so pages. A little swearing wont hurt.
Edit: Oh gods, we STILL word filter R ape to love tenderly?
Edit: Oh gods, we STILL word filter R ape to love tenderly?
525 Re: It Made My Day Tue Apr 24, 2012 1:44 am
JT_the_Ninja
Ninjafleet Captain
Hrm? What word filter? Rapе.
And also: dinоsаur.
[]
And also: dinоsаur.
[]
Message [Page 21 of 40]
Similar topics
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
|
|
|