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~ Piper ~

www.myspace.com/wyo_witch_2005

Resistance is futileHumör: Borg BorgPå 14 okt 2009 från Mobil visa mer

Visa mina:

  • ~ Piper ~

  • 22 / Kvinna
  • EVANSVILLE, Wyoming, US
  • Senast inloggad: 2009-11-25

115935843|22|11110|http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/41/m_5ae09888689d4b94bd22b52b1aa7c534.jpg

Wyoming Cowboys Football

Musikspelare

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Intressen

  • Allmänt

    Anything and everything!!!!

    What I wouldn't give to be @ THE WAR on the 30th. :'( GO POKES! Wyoming_Cowboys

    Myspace Comments



    GO POKES!!!!



    Quizzes in this section written by me for TCZ.com
    Charmed Quiz

    You are a Charmed frek!
    You are 100% Charmed fanatic. You will probably get married in a Charmed costume. Congratulations!

    Out of your group, you scored more Charmedey than 67% of people.

    Results may change as people take the quiz. See the most recent here!
    Take the quiz!

    What is the color of your Aura?

    Your aura is blue!
    Results may change as people take the quiz. See the most recent here!
    Take the quiz!
    More quizzes can be found here.

  • Musik

    Same as interests

  • Filmer

    The X-Men, Fantastic Four, and Spiderman movie series. But for my old faves, Grease, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Little Shop of Horrors, Bio-Dome, Encino Man, Young Frankenstien, Robin Hood: Men in Tights, Spaceballs, anything by Mel Brooks (the man is a genious!)... THIS PART OF ATHF:MFFT!!!! ..

  • TV

    Lets see, Charmed (love that show, hated that it had to end after eight seasons) Buffy, Angel, Bones, CSI, Invader Zim... pretty much anything *L* Oh and [as] when they have something decent on... R.I.P "Chef"

  • Böcker

    Magical Romances, Greek, Roman, and Sci-Fi books as well. ..

  • Hjältar

    Lots... but wayyyyy too embarressing for me to name.......

Information

  • Status: Singel
  • Här för: Vänner
  • Sexuell läggning: Bisexuell
  • Längd: 164cm
  • Stjärntecken: Vädur
  • Barn: I framtiden
  • Röker/dricker: Ja / Ja
  • Utbildning: Högskolestudier

Skolor

  • Roosevelt High School

    • Casper, WY
    • Gick ut: 2005
    • Studentstatus: Tidigare elev
    • Examen: High School Diploma
    • Klubbar: Yearbook ^_^
    2003 till 2005

Info

Om mig:

......
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ‘round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ‘taint being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”

A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;” . . . then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Jag skulle vilja träffa:

You Belong in San Francisco
You crave an eclectic, urban environment. You're half California, half NYC.
You're open minded, tolerant, and secretly think you're the best.
People may dismiss you as a hippie, but you're also progressive, interesting, and rich!

Addicted to Charmed

Addicted to Bones

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