EM MUỐN LÀM BÁO
- Bắt đầu nguyen hoa binh
- Ngày bắt đầu
Trần lê thùy Linh
(Link)
New Member
Ơ, thế lên Ts phải mang cái mớ ấy thật à?Cô Nga là cô nào thê? He, nói thì xấu mặt, chứ thật sự là tao chả biết ai. Chậc chậc, đi mòn cả cái thang máy rồi đấy
Bây h thì tao biết là em không quay lại nữa rồi. Bọn mình đánh chiếm chỗ này làm nơi buôn mới vây. Nhìn lại mấy cái topc cũ tao lại thấy buồn cười, lẽ ra nên đổi là Nhật kí những chuyến buôn, nhỉ?
Thế là trên trời lại có một con Heo bay...
Tao vẫn đang nghe "còn ta với nồng nàn". Thằng chủ cửa hàng sắp đuổi tao ra rồi vì tội không chịu đeo phone vào rồi đây này!
Bây h thì tao biết là em không quay lại nữa rồi. Bọn mình đánh chiếm chỗ này làm nơi buôn mới vây. Nhìn lại mấy cái topc cũ tao lại thấy buồn cười, lẽ ra nên đổi là Nhật kí những chuyến buôn, nhỉ?
Thế là trên trời lại có một con Heo bay...
Tao vẫn đang nghe "còn ta với nồng nàn". Thằng chủ cửa hàng sắp đuổi tao ra rồi vì tội không chịu đeo phone vào rồi đây này!
Chỉnh sửa lần cuối:
nguyenthuyduong
(january)
New Member
Tao đang kể là có 1 bát hương ở nhà, chúng mày ngu đếch chịu được, nghe cũng ko hiểu...Cái gì cũng phải có thờ có thiêng có kiêng có lành mà
Heo bay à...Được đấy..... tao đi xem đây
Tao thích Hứa thật nhiều, thất hứa nhiều của thăng mặt đần độn UHP...
hhehehe
nếu ko học 12 Văn đời Dương đã khác nhiều rồi......
hhoho
Heo bay à...Được đấy..... tao đi xem đây
Tao thích Hứa thật nhiều, thất hứa nhiều của thăng mặt đần độn UHP...
hhehehe
nếu ko học 12 Văn đời Dương đã khác nhiều rồi......
hhoho
Đinh Lan Hương
(carnation0903)
New Member
Ko có cái ngu nào bằng cái ngu nào.Bạn của các bạn đi qua Hải quan VNam chó chết bị khám người và bị phát hiện mang 3000 bảng qua sân bay.Hơ hơ, kể cũng vui, tao bị chính đồng bào của tao trên đất VN đối xử thật là tử tế, hai anh chị châu đầu vào dọa sẽ lập biên bản, rồi sẽ chậm chuyến bay này nọ đến hơn nửa tháng.
Anh ngồi tiếp tao lại còn ''mơi'': '' bây giờ em muốn thoải mái, anh chị thoải mái, đôi bên cùng có lợi thì tùy em hành động''.Sau khi tao vất tiền để lão ấy câm họng, lão còn hỏi '' Em thấy thoải mái chứ''.Vâng ,rất thoải mái anh ạ,thoái mái như ko có gì thoải mái hơn.
Cái mặt anh rõ sáng sủa đẹp đẽ mà phải làm trò nhục đến thế sao.Tiếc cho anh lắm anh ạ.
Hết lời bình luận các anh các chị HQ
Đời này dạy nhiều bài học thấm thía quá.
Anh ngồi tiếp tao lại còn ''mơi'': '' bây giờ em muốn thoải mái, anh chị thoải mái, đôi bên cùng có lợi thì tùy em hành động''.Sau khi tao vất tiền để lão ấy câm họng, lão còn hỏi '' Em thấy thoải mái chứ''.Vâng ,rất thoải mái anh ạ,thoái mái như ko có gì thoải mái hơn.
Cái mặt anh rõ sáng sủa đẹp đẽ mà phải làm trò nhục đến thế sao.Tiếc cho anh lắm anh ạ.
Hết lời bình luận các anh các chị HQ
Đời này dạy nhiều bài học thấm thía quá.
Vũ Duy An
(Samuel Beckett)
New Member
Khổ thân Heo! Đã bảo đưa tiền để tao tiêu hộ cho lại ko nghe. Mà mày có thể tả rõ dung nhan cái anh ấy cho tao ko? Có khi lại đúng là thằng anh họ yêu quái của tao thì tao sẽ bắt nó nôn tiền ra trả lại mày!
Đinh Lan Hương
(carnation0903)
New Member
Tao thì nhục cái gì cơ chứ, tao chỉ thấy nhục thay cho cái lũ ấy thôi.
(Xin lỗi JAn và anh họ mày, nếu anh mày ko phải là cái lão mất dạy đấy)
(Xin lỗi JAn và anh họ mày, nếu anh mày ko phải là cái lão mất dạy đấy)
nguyenthuyduong
(january)
New Member
Nói chung là Vn lúc nào chẳng lởm......Trung Quốc nhiều chuyện còn lởm hơn nữa..cái chính là bọn nào làm HQ đã giàu lại còn ăn bẩn....Miẹ chúng nó.... bó tay
HUm nay tao vừa thi môn đầu tiên......Học hành vất vả kết quả như....... ý...hehhe
Mia còn 3 môn nữa là okie
Thứ 2 đc về Vn rùi
HUm nay tao vừa thi môn đầu tiên......Học hành vất vả kết quả như....... ý...hehhe
Mia còn 3 môn nữa là okie
Thứ 2 đc về Vn rùi
Phùng Thu Thủy
(hoathuytien)
Thành viên (sai email)
em cũng rứa này may phúc ko phải tiền mà là va li à
rõ ràng hai thằng ku đi trucwsc cũng học ám ra thôi sang anh chúng nó cũng xách tay như mình thì ko sao
đên lượt mình thì bị bắt bỏ lại balo
tức điên, bỏ bớt đi cho đúng cân cũng ko chịu cứs bắt mình phải bỏ hẳn lại
làm bao nhiêu đồ quan trọng phải để lại, quay đi quay lại đến ba lần phải gửi họ chiếu để bỏ lại balo
vừa ức chế vừa bực...
rõ ràng hai thằng ku đi trucwsc cũng học ám ra thôi sang anh chúng nó cũng xách tay như mình thì ko sao
đên lượt mình thì bị bắt bỏ lại balo
tức điên, bỏ bớt đi cho đúng cân cũng ko chịu cứs bắt mình phải bỏ hẳn lại
làm bao nhiêu đồ quan trọng phải để lại, quay đi quay lại đến ba lần phải gửi họ chiếu để bỏ lại balo
vừa ức chế vừa bực...
Vũ Duy An
(Samuel Beckett)
New Member
Hì hì! Có lẽ ko phải thằng anh họ tao đâu Heo ạ! Hôm qua tao vừa hỏi nó có chém phải đứa nào khoảng 18-19 tuổi mặt ngu ngu ko thì nó trả lời rằng no. Chủ yếu nó hay chém mấy cha Vk bụng phệ thôi!
Vũ Duy An
(Samuel Beckett)
New Member
Chịu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tạ Hương Nhi
(Alley Cat)
New Member
Topic bị bỏ quên. Trời ơi, nghe "lãng mạn" quá!
Nếu mọi người không có việc gì làm thì mình post lăng nhăng nhá.
The February Challenge
[font=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]by Theo[/font] (elite)
Submitted on Tue, 02/03/2004 - 17:43, 135 reads
Challenge
[font=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]There was nothing extremly good that could be said about February. Infact, there was probably nothing good at all.
Winter lingered a long time in a drafty castle, spring seemed no more than a lover´s promise, and the King had got the February blues.
He shuffled over to the window and looked down upon the town. Nothing much was happening. The King craned his neck so he could see down into the square. There flapping in the breeze, were a pair of dirty, baggy trousers. Nothing further of the man who inhabited them could be seen, as he appeared to be bent double, facing towards the far wall. Surrounding him was a pile of rotting vegtables.
"Ugh!" the King said, feeling altogether disturbed. Yet he would presently see a sight to erase the image from his mind.
First he heard the singing. Carefree and light the notes rose like a stream of children´s bubbles to float above the roof tops. The King frantically scanned the narrow streets. He bit his bottom lip in frustration. Where was she?
And then he saw her, skipping lightly between the puddles as if no mud could touch her. Black and white she wore, the dress of a milk maid, and she carried her pails as if they weighed no more than silk.
"Oh!" sighed the King, and his heart fluttered.
And then she paused and as he watched she raised her head, and, like a watch that flashes in the sun, their eyes met.
And suddenly the King was looking at himself through her eyes. The wild hair he saw, and the unkept beard. A strange man staring down from a upstairs room. A man who believed he was a king, that he ruled over all he surveyed, that he coulds set challenges, and that people would respond to them, even though they only existed in his mind, and it was somehow all real and not figments of a deranged imagination. When, infact, this terrible building was no castle and the room was locked and forgotten.
The King reeled away from the window, clutching his head in horror. He tried to slump in a chair, missed and crashed through a small table, before hitting the floor.
When he came to a figure was standing over him. A figure with enormous, hairy feet.
"Are you alright, Sire?" enquired the Screeve.
"Er . . . yes. I think so Screeve. Had a bit of a fall. Happens at my age you know."
"I understand, Sire," nodded the Screev. "I am here to make enquiries about the Challenge."
"The Challenge?"
"Yes, your majesty. February is upon us, which, I am sure I don´t need to remind you is the shortest month, so . . ."
"Bloody good job too," muttered the King from the floor. "Shame it isn´t shorter yet."
"Er, right. So, anyway I thought we should commence with the new Challenge as quickly as possible so that our wr . . ."
"Ppppuuppphhh," sighed the King. "I don´t know about this, Screeve. What´s the point of the Challenge? What´s the point of February?"
"Well, Sire, I think there are those who genuinely appreciate the Challenge, and as for February . . ." The Screeve broke off.
"Sire," he offered, "would you like me to help you to a chair?"
"No, no," the King waved his outstretched arm away. "I think I´ll govern from this position for a while. Somehow seems easier."
"Very good, Sire. As I was saying, as for February, myself and Mrs Screeve have always considered it a rather romantic month. What with Valentine´s Days and all."
"Oh, Valentine´s Day!" groaned the King. "Tell me Screeve, how do these things start?"
"Things, Sire?"
"Such as you and Mrs Screeve."
"Ah, well," smiled the Screeve, "I don´t know, for us there was a formal introduction followed by several months of furtive letter writing. But I believe the course of true love can follow multifarious trajectories. You would need to ask others to get a more representative picture of human experience."
The King raised himself on one elbow. "Perhaps I will," he whispered to himself. And then, suddenly more animated, he said, "What a champion idea for a challenge! The Start of an Affair. Two thousand words of first-flushed prose by the end of the month."
"Excellent, Sire," replied the Screeve. "I´ll prepare the posters immediately. And what shall I say will be the prize for the winner?"
"Ah, yes. The prize!" exclaimed the King, raising himself up onto both elbows. He had enjoyed awarding last month´s prize. "What do you think Miss Mel would like?" he asked.
"Miss Mel?" repeated the Screeve. "But Sire, we don´t even know if this writer will enter, never mind win."
"Ah, yes, well, you know. I mean, you know, as an example, picked totally, er, indeed, completely at random, I wondered what she, for example, would like. Something, you know, appreciated by a lady."
"Well, Sire, I´ve always thought a bookmark to be a romantic gift."
"Really?"
"Well, yes," Screeve wondering, suddenly, if he felt foolish. "A leather one."
"Well I bow to your superior knowledge, Screeve," shrugged the King.
"One more thing," the King asked. "Who is the man whose posterior is blighting our city square?"
"Ah, that," the Screeve answered, "is Sloonark, in the stocks. We caught up with him in his hovel yesterday. As it was market day and the people would be armed with plentiful ammunition, I considered it appropriate to position him thus. Unfortunately his appearance conspired to be so unattractive as to scare the animals. We were required to turn him around."
"And has he confessed to his tyrany?" the King asked.
"Indeed not, Sire. He keeps telling us we´ve got the wrong man."
"Surely there can´t be more than one man who hates me," the King said, and slumped back onto the floor.
With surprising efficiency the posters went up all over the kingdom. Though February was as harsh as always, brooks could be heard gurgling with fresh meltwater, and on a hillside new born lambs sprang pure white against week old snow.
In the square an old woman took aim. Her vegtable of choice smashed into he wall showering the unfortunate man with rotten cabbage.
"I´m not Sloonark, I tell you," he yelled desperately. "Can´t you people spell?"
THE KING´S CHALLENGE - FEBRUARY
THE START OF AN AFFAIR[/font]
Nếu mọi người không có việc gì làm thì mình post lăng nhăng nhá.
The February Challenge
Challenge
Winter lingered a long time in a drafty castle, spring seemed no more than a lover´s promise, and the King had got the February blues.
He shuffled over to the window and looked down upon the town. Nothing much was happening. The King craned his neck so he could see down into the square. There flapping in the breeze, were a pair of dirty, baggy trousers. Nothing further of the man who inhabited them could be seen, as he appeared to be bent double, facing towards the far wall. Surrounding him was a pile of rotting vegtables.
"Ugh!" the King said, feeling altogether disturbed. Yet he would presently see a sight to erase the image from his mind.
First he heard the singing. Carefree and light the notes rose like a stream of children´s bubbles to float above the roof tops. The King frantically scanned the narrow streets. He bit his bottom lip in frustration. Where was she?
And then he saw her, skipping lightly between the puddles as if no mud could touch her. Black and white she wore, the dress of a milk maid, and she carried her pails as if they weighed no more than silk.
"Oh!" sighed the King, and his heart fluttered.
And then she paused and as he watched she raised her head, and, like a watch that flashes in the sun, their eyes met.
And suddenly the King was looking at himself through her eyes. The wild hair he saw, and the unkept beard. A strange man staring down from a upstairs room. A man who believed he was a king, that he ruled over all he surveyed, that he coulds set challenges, and that people would respond to them, even though they only existed in his mind, and it was somehow all real and not figments of a deranged imagination. When, infact, this terrible building was no castle and the room was locked and forgotten.
The King reeled away from the window, clutching his head in horror. He tried to slump in a chair, missed and crashed through a small table, before hitting the floor.
When he came to a figure was standing over him. A figure with enormous, hairy feet.
"Are you alright, Sire?" enquired the Screeve.
"Er . . . yes. I think so Screeve. Had a bit of a fall. Happens at my age you know."
"I understand, Sire," nodded the Screev. "I am here to make enquiries about the Challenge."
"The Challenge?"
"Yes, your majesty. February is upon us, which, I am sure I don´t need to remind you is the shortest month, so . . ."
"Bloody good job too," muttered the King from the floor. "Shame it isn´t shorter yet."
"Er, right. So, anyway I thought we should commence with the new Challenge as quickly as possible so that our wr . . ."
"Ppppuuppphhh," sighed the King. "I don´t know about this, Screeve. What´s the point of the Challenge? What´s the point of February?"
"Well, Sire, I think there are those who genuinely appreciate the Challenge, and as for February . . ." The Screeve broke off.
"Sire," he offered, "would you like me to help you to a chair?"
"No, no," the King waved his outstretched arm away. "I think I´ll govern from this position for a while. Somehow seems easier."
"Very good, Sire. As I was saying, as for February, myself and Mrs Screeve have always considered it a rather romantic month. What with Valentine´s Days and all."
"Oh, Valentine´s Day!" groaned the King. "Tell me Screeve, how do these things start?"
"Things, Sire?"
"Such as you and Mrs Screeve."
"Ah, well," smiled the Screeve, "I don´t know, for us there was a formal introduction followed by several months of furtive letter writing. But I believe the course of true love can follow multifarious trajectories. You would need to ask others to get a more representative picture of human experience."
The King raised himself on one elbow. "Perhaps I will," he whispered to himself. And then, suddenly more animated, he said, "What a champion idea for a challenge! The Start of an Affair. Two thousand words of first-flushed prose by the end of the month."
"Excellent, Sire," replied the Screeve. "I´ll prepare the posters immediately. And what shall I say will be the prize for the winner?"
"Ah, yes. The prize!" exclaimed the King, raising himself up onto both elbows. He had enjoyed awarding last month´s prize. "What do you think Miss Mel would like?" he asked.
"Miss Mel?" repeated the Screeve. "But Sire, we don´t even know if this writer will enter, never mind win."
"Ah, yes, well, you know. I mean, you know, as an example, picked totally, er, indeed, completely at random, I wondered what she, for example, would like. Something, you know, appreciated by a lady."
"Well, Sire, I´ve always thought a bookmark to be a romantic gift."
"Really?"
"Well, yes," Screeve wondering, suddenly, if he felt foolish. "A leather one."
"Well I bow to your superior knowledge, Screeve," shrugged the King.
"One more thing," the King asked. "Who is the man whose posterior is blighting our city square?"
"Ah, that," the Screeve answered, "is Sloonark, in the stocks. We caught up with him in his hovel yesterday. As it was market day and the people would be armed with plentiful ammunition, I considered it appropriate to position him thus. Unfortunately his appearance conspired to be so unattractive as to scare the animals. We were required to turn him around."
"And has he confessed to his tyrany?" the King asked.
"Indeed not, Sire. He keeps telling us we´ve got the wrong man."
"Surely there can´t be more than one man who hates me," the King said, and slumped back onto the floor.
With surprising efficiency the posters went up all over the kingdom. Though February was as harsh as always, brooks could be heard gurgling with fresh meltwater, and on a hillside new born lambs sprang pure white against week old snow.
In the square an old woman took aim. Her vegtable of choice smashed into he wall showering the unfortunate man with rotten cabbage.
"I´m not Sloonark, I tell you," he yelled desperately. "Can´t you people spell?"
THE KING´S CHALLENGE - FEBRUARY
THE START OF AN AFFAIR[/font]
Tạ Hương Nhi
(Alley Cat)
New Member
Lê Đạt
Xuân 17
Thí xinh số báo xuân 17
Xuân một năm đi đâu
Chiều xinh xuân xịch đến
Không kịp ai đón tầu
Hoa cửa tha thẩn đèn
Chả quen mà cũng hẹn
Ô muốn đèo bé đời
sau xe đạp xoan chơi
Phố thi thì con gái
Chiều qua còn khép nụ
Nào hay xuân chớm về
Sớm đã hoa bùng lửa
Thắp hồng lên má đê
Ngực no căng ngược gió
Thơm mãi mùi dậy thì
Xuân 17
Thí xinh số báo xuân 17
Xuân một năm đi đâu
Chiều xinh xuân xịch đến
Không kịp ai đón tầu
Hoa cửa tha thẩn đèn
Chả quen mà cũng hẹn
Ô muốn đèo bé đời
sau xe đạp xoan chơi
Phố thi thì con gái
Chiều qua còn khép nụ
Nào hay xuân chớm về
Sớm đã hoa bùng lửa
Thắp hồng lên má đê
Ngực no căng ngược gió
Thơm mãi mùi dậy thì
Khúc Việt Lan
(nhoc chuoi)
New Member
Hic, cái topic này lại được lôi lên à? Làm cái gì bây giờ?
Trần lê thùy Linh
(Link)
New Member
Để khi không biết làm gì thì vào đây chơi 
Every one of us has heard the call brothers of
True metal proud and standing tall the know
The power within us has brought us to this hall
There's magic in the metal there's magic in us all
Heavy metal or no metal at all whimps and posers
Leave the hall, heavy metal or no metal at all
Whimps and posers go on get out leave the hall
Now the world must listen to our decree we
Don't turn down for anyone we do just what we
Please, got to make it louder, all men play on
Ten, if you're not into metal, you are not my friend
There's metal in the air, tonitecan you hear it
Call? If you ain't got the balls, to take it you can
Leave the hall )
Every one of us has heard the call brothers ofTrue metal proud and standing tall the know
The power within us has brought us to this hall
There's magic in the metal there's magic in us all
Heavy metal or no metal at all whimps and posers
Leave the hall, heavy metal or no metal at all
Whimps and posers go on get out leave the hall
Now the world must listen to our decree we
Don't turn down for anyone we do just what we
Please, got to make it louder, all men play on
Ten, if you're not into metal, you are not my friend
There's metal in the air, tonitecan you hear it
Call? If you ain't got the balls, to take it you can
Leave the hall )
Trần lê thùy Linh
(Link)
New Member
Planting seeds of hate
I've loved, turned to hate
Trapped far beyond my fate
I give, you take
This life that I forsake
Been cheated of my youth
You turned this lie to truth
Anger, misery
You'll suffer unto me
Harvester of sorrow
Language of the mad
Harvester of sorrow
Pure black, looking clear
My work is done soon here
Try getting back to me
Get back which used to be
Drink up
Shoot in
Let the beatings begin
Distributor of pain
Your loss becomes my gain
Anger
Misery
You'll suffer unto me
Harvester of sorrow
Language of the mad
Harvester of sorrow
I've loved, turned to hate
Trapped far beyond my fate
I give, you take
This life that I forsake
Been cheated of my youth
You turned this lie to truth
Anger, misery
You'll suffer unto me
Harvester of sorrow
Language of the mad
Harvester of sorrow
Pure black, looking clear
My work is done soon here
Try getting back to me
Get back which used to be
Drink up
Shoot in
Let the beatings begin
Distributor of pain
Your loss becomes my gain
Anger
Misery
You'll suffer unto me
Harvester of sorrow
Language of the mad
Harvester of sorrow