Currently viewing the tag: "would"
Question: Would YOU be mad?? Cuz I am!!?
My friend and I have been planning a party for over a month (as you may notice from my previous questions.)
Tonight I was going to stay up at her house and help her clean then tomorrow we were going to decorate. Then her cousin called. So she ditched me, and I drove the groceries up to her house (half hour away) while she picked up her cousin (who lives an hour away) so I waited 2 hours at her house TWO HOURS and as soon as she comes in she says “oh you can go home me and my cousin will just do everything” and I said ‘you dont want me to help decorate?!?” and she said “no its okay we’ll do it” and then just stood there…so I left.
Basically, I just planned this whole party for her….then paid for half of EVERYTHING and now I get absolutely no say in how the food is prepared and where everything is going. Would you be PISSED?!?! BECAUSE I AM. I understand she wants to spend time with her cousin but….god!
Should I ask for my half of the party money back?? Would you??
ok she just called me and said after I left her cousin and her brother explained to her that she was really rude about it and she didn’t mean it like that…she just didn’t want to make me clean after I planned everything. So I said “well I still want to help decorate, maybe I’ll come over in the morning” and we agreed that’d be cool. So thanks for listening to me vent everyone lol I’m calmed down now. If she hadn’t appologized I’d be furious with her…but yah, its okay now. Thanks for being so supportive.
Answer:
Answer by crystal_dm79
girl you have every right to be mad! i would absolutely tell her that since you were helping with the whole thing and paid a lot towards it, you feel you should get your money back, or at least half of it if she wont give it all back. did she un-invite you to the party?
Question: Would you rate my story?
It’s just a little intro to a project I’m doing for fiction story I’m doing for English class. Constructive criticism is appreciated. P.S. Please take note I am only in the 8th grade.
People have always been told fairy tales. And people have always been told that they weren’t real, that the characters didn’t exist. This was also true for a young Whitney Dawson growing up in Toronto, Canada. But one story she could always believe was real, was the story of The Land of Illusions. This was a story written by Whitney’s father as an experimental children’s book just for his little sunshine. It stuck with her, for the rest of her life. But not the way she thought.
Whitney Dawson, now a bio-mechanical engineer, mother of three, and loving wife, is at her office in Toronto, Canada. Her daily routine consists of sleeping, eating, and working, while her husband, Johnathan, is a stay-at-home father.
The time was 2:23 PM when Whitney heard a roaring explosion. She got under her desk in her cubicle and shut her eyes. She immediately felt the sonic boom against her skin. For the first time, she feared for her life. She waited a few minutes, got up, and saw nothing but white and her desk. No walls, no ceilings, she couldn’t even tell if she was on a floor. No corners, no definition, and no sense of reality. And then someone or something tapped her shoulder, Whitney let out a small shriek and hesitantly turned around, only to be greeted by a small koala with a top hat and a tuxedo.
And then, it spoke.
“Hello Whitney,” the koala said with a british accent, “My name is Reginald.”
“How the %#*$ do you know my name?!” Whitney shouted, appalled.
“Mrs. Dawson, there’s no need for profani…..hrmph,” a pause, “I think this will explain things.” At the snap of Reginald’s fingers, a 110 inch plasma screen TV appeared out of thin air.
“How the f—”
Reginald interrupted, “Now watch this video, and save the questions for after the video. Understood?” And then there was the voice of 30 elementary children saying in monotonous tone saying, “Yes Mr. Reginald.”
Whitney turned around only to realize nothing was there and shut her eyes, silently sobbing. It was an art really, silent sobbing, but 3 children and an abusive husband does that to you. And then the video began.
It started off with Whitney at her cubicle working for a while, then flashed to 2 weeks prior when there was an emergency broadcast on television.
“ATTENTION: SOVIET UNION RUSSIA HAS DECLARED NUCLEAR WAR ON NORTH AMERICA!” the TV repeatedly blared. And then it all hit Whitney. Davisville Village, Toronto has just been struck by a nuclear missile. The next scene on the video featured Whitney’s house. And at 2000 frames per second, or 1/67th of normal speed, Whitney Dawson, bio mechanical engineer, mother of three, and loving wife, watched in horror as her house was struck by a nuclear missile. And as soon as the video ended, Mrs. Dawson shot her hand up.
“Yes, Mrs. Dawson?” Reginald asked.
“That can’t be my house is it? Is it?!” Whitney screamed.
“I don’t know Mrs. Dawson, I don’t know anything that goes on here. Where things are not always as they seem, and the only thing you can do is ask…’or is it?’ Yes, Whitney, this…this is The Land of Illusions.
Answer:
Answer by Samantha
It is really quite excellent, especially considering your age. It needs editing, but everything does 
I liked it allot, I thought it was humorous and witty and interesting. Only thing, I’d take out the profanity. You could replace it with something silly like “fiddlesticks” or “sugar”, you know, and it would be even funnier when the koala told her to watch her mouth.
Good work!
Question: Would you read the rest of this story?
Hi, I wrote the first chapter of my own story. Please comment and tell me if you’d read it.
=CIRCUS=
PROLOGUE
Alice never realised. Just a walk home, like any other Tuesday. It could not have gone more wrong. It changed her life.
Alice walked home from school as usual, carrying her books and worrying about homework.
Step on a crack, break your momma’s back. Step on a line, break your momma’s spine.
It was perfectly normal, until it happened. The incident that changed her life. It was unavoidable.
Step on a crack, break your back. Step on a line, break your spine.
The van’s engine purred as it tailed Alice. The sun was setting, as the sky turned yellow-orange-purple, families settled down from a tired day at work and school. It was getting dark.
Then the truck stopped. It’s presence was felt on the quiet street. Alice stopped. Under her foot was a crack.
Then two women slipped out of the van. Alice froze.
CHAPTER 1
Alice awoke. It was pitch black. She rubbed her eyes.
The engine came to a stop.
“We’re here.” a woman’s voice sounded, in an American accent.
“What’s for breakfast?” a French woman’s accent asked.
“Probably broth.” came the reply.
Sunlight flooded the van. Alice shielded her eyes from the light. She squinted. Alice made out two shapes of women. Were they naked?
“Bonjour, my butterfly.” the French woman spoke. Alice’s eyed adjusted to the light. An ethnic face with blood-red lipstick and highly arched eyebrows glared at Alice’s.
“Hm. I don’t know what boss sees in this. Girl.” French woman spoke in disgust. “Come. Get out.” French woman climbed out of the van with grace, just like a cat.
Alice came to her senses. “Where am I?” she asked.
“Where ever you think you are, sweetheart.” the other woman slided out.
Alice tried to recall. One evening. One street. Two pairs of hands. A sharp pain. Alice touched her head in reflex. There was a bump on the back of her head. Then she realised what might have happened.
As quickly as possible, she tried to reach into her pocket for her cellphone, to find that her hands were bound together by a huge rope.
“Mon Dieu! Do you think we are that stupid, girl?” the French woman’s nimble fingers held a purple cellphone. She dropped it into the red bag the other woman held.
“Give it back! I will call the police, and I shall go ho–” the light was blocked by a shadow then.
“Well, come along, Alice.” a boy her age, wearing a jester’s costume, grabbed her hands and pulled her out of the van.
“See you later.” “Bye.” the women waved. They were wearing black, tight fitting leather unitards.
He walked on into the forest like nothing was wrong, until the trees cleared. In a huge clearing, there was a huge, striped tent, with many little tents scattered around it. Flags flutters everywhere when the wind blew.
Alice looked around in despair. It looked deserted, yet crowded. The atmosphere was contradicting. Colourful balloons and banners everywhere, while Alice felt confusion and terror.
“Come along.” the boy looked at her and gave a friendly smile. Alice did not return it. The jester boy gestured to a yellow and purple striped tent, with posters and balloons hung all over.
They entered the tent.
It was bigger inside than it looked from the outside. In the tent was somewhere that looked like an office, although it did not quite look like one either.
A tall, skinny man stood up from his chair, in the centre of the tent, behind a maplewood table.
“Welcome to the circus, Alice.” he said politely.
Answer:
Answer by losthour
The story seems to meander a bit never quite making you interested. Tell me more about Alice. I want to care about her but you never let her connect to the reader.Is she tall, short? blonde, does she even want to go to the circus?
Question: Would you read this Book?
I stared down blankly and the blue lined paper, I had never felt so disgusted in my life. I had to use the last bit of paper to write a stupid report on why i hated the war.
The year was 1941, a time where food, money, brothers , and fathers were scarce
and blood, hatres, and violence were common. I was a fourteen year old girl whos only love was art , but with a sick mother and a five year old brother there wasnt time for much anything.
I measured my odds, I could draw a beautiful peice of art and hang it up and deal with Mrs.Mctons wrath, or could become worshiped by her and not have it to hang up on the wall.
I sighed an dbegan my paper..
OoO
I prodded at my potatoe It was burnt and disgusting, i looke dup from my plate where my baby brother Marcus inhaled his food down. Then he looked up to.
“Audrey”
“yes”
“ughm i-i-is-is John-John coming home?”
I sighed when John John died I told Marcus he was coming home, as in heaven, not to New York City.
“No Marcus, John-John dead he’s gone he’s not coming home.”
“Oh”
“Audrey”
“what?’
“whats dead”
“dead is when you stop breathing your heart stops beating and you close your eyes and your sould goes to god”
Marcus was siliejnt he finsihed his food and walked away.
I picked up my plate of half finished food and sighed, cursing myself i discarded my food into the waste basket.
I walked to teh family safe the safe that used to be filled with money now it was empty extremely empty. I opened it up this was the money me and Marcus were left to survive on I counted on the money $ 3.15 i sighed. I walked to the grocery list to mark out what the couldnt get
Grocery List
Black eyed peas. XXX
Collard Greens. XXXX
Apples… XXXX
Potatoes
Eggs
I groaned more of the same, it wasnt fair that marcus and I had to grow up before our tiem or that i had to play mommy when i was but a girl.
I walked outside onto the apartment deck, it was my time my alone time where i could fall apart without anyone seeing especially Marcus. i check all the decks of the apartment to make sure nobody was there, this was somehting i learned when Mr.Mutton sall me cry and still trys to atlk to me about it. I put my head down into my head when i heard an apartment door open i looked over on the deck next to me. There was a boy there around my age he had jet black hair and green eyes and twizzler red lips.he was Was
“perfect” I said a little to loudly
“whats that now” He said in a thick english accent
” Ughm yoru the new boy” isaid hoping i was correct
“eye the names Eugene just moved here from england”
“oh my names Audrey I’ve always lived here” i said he smiled at me
“so ya go to school ‘roudn here?”
“yes right up there” I pointed toward 81st street
“ya like it?”
“i guess” i shrugged
“EUGENE DONNAGAN” a female english accent bellowed from the apartment.
“well got got go me Moms calling me nice to meet ya Audrey” He smiled and winked at me and walked off.
I sat back inthe whicker chair but this time ididnt fell the need to cry just sigh..
OoO
I lay in bed that night and thought i thought of Eugene the way he winked and smiled at me. Then i thought of Marcus how he wasnt living the life he deserved and yet he was happya dn always smiling and oemn of the kindest people I’d ever meet. Then i thought of Joh_)johmn my older brother and how at he young age of 15 he was sent to the raging war in Germany and was brutally shot do death witout deserving or expecting it. And then liek the fall of rain the tears came, and liek a kettle they poured out hot and fast i cried and shook in my bed for hours and thena gain like a kettle the tears went dry and i drifted to sleep.
This is the first chapter do you liek it how can i improved it im working ont eh secodn chapter would you read this book do you like it
UGHM TO THE PERSON WHOJUST COMMENTED THOSE ARE THAT DATES THATS WHEN THE WAR WAS GOING ON
Answer:
Answer by jl
You totally need to read some history books about WW2 and the 1940′s in general. You are writing a coming of age story, but you can’t just change the dates and have it work.
Yes, you got the dates of the war correct, but you are not even close concerning the atitudes and what happened in the states during the war. I didn’t mean for you to change the date, I meant for you to change the details in your story to fit better into what was really happening.
Question: What would you do? Is this what they call “Happy Slap”?
I was returning home from a party in the A.M. and this guy in front of the market goes “hey man do you know where’s Burger King?” I told him 2 blocks up. Then he says I look like Scott Wyland and clobbers me in the jaw with a soup can in a canvas bag. It knocked me silly for a sec. Then he says with a butler/ British accent “would you care for another shot?” and I said “no” so he rushed me with the bag again. I blocked it on my arms but it really hurt. Then he goes “Run!” and I said, “no” and his two friends jumped out of this tree planter, so I exited.
They seemed to think this was hilarious. Your thoughts? Why would they do this?
Answer:
Answer by girly
get a life?
Question: Do you think those 3D ceramic fruit kitchen wall plaques would look nice on wood panel walls or?
is this type of decor “outdated” or old fashioned? I have a fruits & wine themed kitchen and think some of these would add a nice touch.
Answer:
Answer by Majaveer Z
???