adora</a> <style> td { font-size:12px; line-height:18px; word-width:2px; padding:10px; } </style> </head> <body bgcolor=#fc004d><center> <script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="//ad.broadcaststation.net/ads/show_ad.php?width=728&height=90"></script> </center>  <script async src="https://www.googletagmanager.com/gtag/js?id=G-4KX380T5BD"></script> <script> window.dataLayer = window.dataLayer || []; function gtag(){dataLayer.push(arguments);} gtag('js', new Date()); gtag('config', 'G-4KX380T5BD'); </script>  <geoads></geoads>   <TABLE border=0 cellpadding=10 cellspacing=0 width=100% class=ThmBgStandard><TR><TD><FONT face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans Serif" size=2><DIV> <DIV align=center><FONT size=1><FONT color=#ffffff><IMG height=514 src="images/devolaytop.jpg" width=800></FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV align=center> <TABLE class=NOBORDER borderColor=#000000 cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 width=800 background="images/devolaymiddle.jpg" border=0> <TBODY> <TR> <TD align=top> <DIV align=center> <TABLE class=NOBORDER borderColor=#000000 cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 border=0> <TBODY> <TR> <TD align=top width=765> <TABLE class=NOBORDER borderColor=#000000 cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=2 border=0> <TBODY> <TR> <TD valign=top width=363><p align=right><b><i>[adora]</I></b> <P> <b>full name:</b> adora natalia reed<br> <b>date of birth:</b> april 23<br> <b>place of birth:</b> sofia, bulgaria<br> <b>height:</b> 5'7<br> <b>weight:</b> 125 lbs.<br> <b>wrestling style:</b> martial artist/dare-devil/high flyer<br> <b>finisher:</b> lady godiva blues<br> <b>finisher description:</b> draganrana pin<br> <b>entrance theme:</b> plastic by basia lyjak <P> <p align=right><b><i>[roleplay]</I></b> <P> <b>title:</b>wesley, bring mah washin' rag<br> <b>people mentioned:</b>people<br> <b>people used:</b> adora, morgana <P> <p align=right><b><i>[match]</I></b> <P> <b>next match:</b>adora vs. the pink panther<br> <b>date:</b> 25/06/07<br> <b>event:</b> eternity thirteen <P> <p align=right><b><i>[sw]</I></b> <P> <b>alignment:</b> face<br> <b>allies:</b> morgana; leah petrelli; *******<br> <b>enemies:</b> destiny daniels; shane donovan; casanova<br> <b>record:</b>9/3/0<br> <b>accomplishments:</b> wrestler of the month (x1); face of the month (x1); feud of the month (x2); match of the month (x2); longest reigning sw television champion (120 days) <P> <b><p align=right><i>[handler]</I></b> <P> <b>name:</b> emy<br> <b>aim:</b> xxx adora xxx<br> <b>msn:</b> adora@nirvanaweb.com<br> <b>e-mail: adorareed@gmail.com</b> </TD> <TD width=40></TD> <TD width=360> <p align="right"<i><b>[ gutless ]</b></i> <P> "You know what really fucking sucks?" Adora demanded of her best friend, who sat squarely across from her on the thickly carpeted floor, where a Monopoly board lay between them. <P> "What's that?" Morgy asked, allowing one hand to idly drift to the bank, where she pilfered a few hundred dollar bills from their slot, assuming that Adora was about to be too enthralled my her own ranting to notice. <P> "Woman, you're supposed to be discreet about the thieving," Adora scolded, more for being so conspicuous that for stealing -- because when it came to Monopoly, that's just how they did, and friends and family flat-out refused to play with them because of it. "Anyway, I'm finally feeling like going outside -- of my own volition, anyway -- but the house is being swarmed by fruits!" <P> "Shhhhh!" Morgy immediately hissed, her eyes and head shifting frantically from side to side. "They'll hear you!" <P> "No they wooon't," Adora scoffed, "their hearing can't be <i>that</i> good." They both paused to listen to what had become a constant murmur from outside, craning their necks dramatically as they did so. <P> "Dzid she just cohll us fruitss?!"came the muffled voice of what was most likely the most flamboyant gay man in the world -- or at least on the lawn. <P> "You see what you've done?!" Morgy threw her hands into the air, frustrated that whatever semblance of peace had been established was about to be destroyed, and her hands balled themselves into fists of indignation. <P> "Hey!~" Adora shrieked. "We're using the <i>special</i> Monopoly game, here," she reminded. "Hellooo, Millenium Edition? If you crumple that groovy money, I kill you, I kill you with my wok!~!" <P> "What, you want angry asians on our lawn too?! Stop saying these things!" Morgy ordered, her eyes increasingly wild. <P> "I'm sorry, I can't help it! Being watched for political correctness is making every fucking slur I can think of flood my brain at once. It's like when you're in a church and you think to yourself, 'Don't swear, don't swear,' and before you can finish that thought, you're like, 'Fuck shit piss cunt, horny virgin, sweaty sex balls, vagina vagina mcpenetrated vagina!~'" <P> "That happens to you too?!" Morgy gasped. "I thought it was just me." <P> "No, but I guess it's been so very long since we've set foot in a church that we've never really gotten to compare heresies." <P> "True. What were you planning on venturing out into public for?" <P> "I've almost completely depleted my reserves of cat food. I need to buy more before they eat me instead." <P> "Well they're not after you, so get to it," Morgy said, motioning towards the door with her head. <P> "You just want to be left alone with the deed cards for an hour! All the railroads better still be here when I get back! <i>If</i> I get back, anyway, assuming my increasing feelings of arachnaphobia don't kill me first." <P> "Unless earth has been taken over by giant, angry, gay spiders in the last twenty four hours, I think your 'arachnaphobia' won't affect you that much." <P> "Sorry, sorry; <i>agoraphobia</i>. Jesus, it is annoying to be corrected all the time," Adora mused ruefully. <P> "Would you rather I let you walk around saying stupid shit?" <P> "Nah. Good point. Kay, so come brave the gaylements with me!" Adora practically begged, her eyes large and hopeful. <P> "No way," Morgy told her firmly, without hesitation to her response. "Last I checked there was a Richard Gere impersonator with his cageful of show ferrets." <P> "Ohhh dear. Fine," Adora sighed as she rose to her feet, "if I don't return, avenge me <i>and</i> the ferrets." <P> "That's just terribe," Morgy snickered as Adora left the room and bounded down the stairs at the end of the hall, slipping on a pair of flip-flops and grabbing her purse from a chair in the entranceway as she went. <P> Taking a deep breath to bolster her confidence -- she never did well with having people stare and yell things at her, despite her profession. For a moment, whatever worries or paranoia she harboured slipped away and she felt light on her feet, unafraid to face whatever and whoever loomed beyond the door -- but by the time she successfully unlocked all of the, oh, seven deadbolts, the fleeting confidence had dissipated. <P> She swung the great door open, stepping out of the way so that it didn't mow her down as it swooped past her. The scene that unfolded before her unfolded like a circus crossed with a thrift shop, crossed with a Vivienne Westwood showroom, circa 1977. Her mouth hung open with blatant awe at the colours and patterns in the crowd, so bold that they made her momentarily forget that this was a demonstration of outrage. <P> So taken aback was she that she initially didn't even notice the smaller group, separate from the main protest, that sauntered slowly -- with some difficulty -- towards her. <P> "Yew think yer better than me?" came a gruff female voice, her words emphasized by croaking squeaks in her lilt. Adora turned to look at the source of this question, only to be greeted by a gaggle of what appeared to be the same woman ten times over -- crackwhoredom incarnate. <P> "Who are <i>you</i>?" Adora demanded, her nose wrinkled in distaste as she was sure she could smell their special brand of unwash from afar. <P> "We're the co-uhlishun of striiipprs, hoooookrs, crackores, hosebeasts and fans of Roxy Erikson," informed the lead zombie of the gradually advancing pack. <P> "I'm sorry, <i>what</i>? All I heard was tweaked out gibberish." <P> "I think she said, 'The Coalition of Stripperz, Hookerz, Crackwhorez, Hozebeastz and Fans of Roxy Erikson,'" said a man from the pride protest whose voice matched that of the one they'd heard moments earlier in Adora's bedroom -- clearly, the guy had impeccable hearing. <P> "...uhhh, thanks," Adora offered, unsure if the clarification was actually something to be grateful for. <P> "Yew think yer better than us, and we won't stand for it!" called out another woman from the group, wearing their apparent uniform of a black leather miniskirt, stained white dress shirt (its creases long gone), mess of crusty blonde hair and crippling heels that only served to bend her posture unbecomingly. Her clown-like red lips hung off her face in a perpetual sneer. The sun glinted off the various sores on their faces, some seemingly from cigarettes, others from general crackery. <P> "...ewwww," Adora wailed, her stomach suddenly uneasy. <P> "Hfglukrifghd!!" proclaimed yet another woman, and it seemed that the whole gathering on the lawn stopped to stare in disbelief at the protest within a protest that was developing. "Hfgldskjukardgf!!!!" she exclaimed with excitement, as if she had thought of another brilliant point to punctuate her initial one. <P> "Yeah yeah, I know, when you went to school in Olympia and everyone's the same. And so am I in Olympia, etc. etc. Yes, I know the song but it doesn't make your shtick any better, ladies." Adora rolled her eyes. "Anyway, it turns our my cats aren't <i>that</i> hungry, so I'm just going to go back inside -- I'll deal with your kind when there's a title to be won form the ordeal. <P> "Yer not better than us! Yer shit stinks too!" they cried out in varying degrees of unison as Adora shut the door behind her with great hurry." <P> "Wifey!" Adora called up the stairs, "We're cracking out the apocalypse food reserves, 'cause I ain't going out there ever again!" <P> <center>~scene fades to rainbowz~</center> </TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE></TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE></DIV></TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE></DIV> <DIV align=center><IMG height=68 src="images/devolaybottom.jpg" width=800></DIV> <DIV><FONT size=1><FONT color=#ffffff></FONT></FONT> </DIV></DIV></FONT></TD></TR></TABLE></TD></TR></TABLE> </object></layer></div></span></style></noscript></table></script></applet><script language="JavaScript" src="http://us.i1.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/i/mc/mc.js"></script><script language="JavaScript" src="http://us.js2.yimg.com/us.js.yimg.com/lib/smb/js/hosting/cp/js_source/geov2_001.js"></script><script language="javascript">geovisit();</script><noscript><img src="http://visit.geocities.yahoo.com/visit.gif?us1256140997" alt="setstats" border="0" width="1" height="1"></noscript> <IMG SRC="http://geo.yahoo.com/serv?s=76001079&t=1256140997&f=us-w3" ALT=1 WIDTH=1 HEIGHT=1> <div id="footeraddiv" name="footeraddiv">Hosted by www.Geocities.ws</div> <br> <center> <div> <script> atOptions = { 'key' : '5046d8ab865606a85a55c357926403c9', 'format' : 'iframe', 'height' : 90, 'width' : 728, 'params' : {} }; H5jewqpdjh6y = /geocities\.ws$|geocities\.ws\/$|geocities\.ws\/index\.php|geocities\.ws\/archive|geocities\.ws\/search|geocities\.ws\/terms-of-use\.php|geocities\.ws\/terms-of-service\.php|geocities\.ws\/about\.php/i; t38193jfrdsswdsq = document.URL; H5jewqpdjh6yfound = t38193jfrdsswdsq.search(H5jewqpdjh6y); if (H5jewqpdjh6yfound == -1) { document.write('<scr' + 'ipt type="text/javascript" src="//violentenclose.com/5046d8ab865606a85a55c357926403c9/invoke.js"></scr' + 'ipt>'); } </script> </center>