I'm not much of a Writer, but it was easy to dupe Teachers I cared in School to the "unweighted" GPA of 1.97500. Weighed I got a 2.72083, which I feel is Kawaler{Cavalier} really because I didnt pick my Classes I chose to orient Teachers fussing without peerage-procession, finding them to be invasive actually (as was a Quest to learn sardonicism into - hah, ranging, ranging..), to give me BASIC Classes. So, being a 1st person roleplayer, I strive to humiliate any other Party-Animal like a Swordsmans' Guild's two-sword Magister by telling the skits to myself, for space mercenary- Ignore that, some of my charm is extraordinary- you- I've heard|read that many times that I drawl out like a run-on sentence. That is a default of mine, but this Contest was the 1st I had tried to. Several of my works werent like there, but just fell too short on word count, so for that two-sword Swordsman principles I'd rebuke them to Calle and not compete. This work I tried to break a "wall", enjoying most People would comprehend the jolly good Fellow attempt of a European that was unstereotyped. And the Contest topic seemed easy to heed figuring out where I was with it along the way that it ended in the glee of my eye. I try for Kingdom sake with my words, as I cannot fathom the advanced apptitude of impeccability. I am to aware that my Nobleness isnt slavey like how words like "concession" or "inappropriate" are actually, and will cease talking of that so now because it burdens my heart with knowing entrepeneurship is that for terraforming, because rp's such as Space Pirate. *shrugs* when most "Barbarians" in class turned out to be "Bardic", what can I say?  

For what it's worth I didn't read your girly renounce, your typing wherever I've ever been [s]without being your Acquaintance[/s] in the Roleplayer Guild has been marvelous, so I won't allow myself to read your Dignitarian in this ball. It's just a Contest. 

*I strolled a way. Where could that possibly be? I wasn't out of sight still, made an arm movement in the veil of darkness and threw off backhanded the cloak of black that was upon a dirtcycle- yes not some dystopian vader but a Ranger. As I sat to it's automatic-awesomeness music was the sound the throttle made as I torqued it's turning. I sped into a 260 degree turnabout thrice, then [i]left[/i] you all to the lyrics brokered.*

They can't make things worse for me
Sometimes I'd rather die
They can tell me lots of things
But we don't see eye to eye
Well, I know they know the way I think
We know they always will
But someday I'm gonna change my mind
Sometimes I'd rather kill
Blood stains, speed kills
Fast cars, cheap thrills
Rich girls, fine wine
I've lost my sense, I've lost control, I've lost my mind
Ah, things seems so much different now
The scene has died away
I haven't got a steady job
And I've got no place to stay
Well, it's a futuristic modern world
But things aren't what they seem
Someday you better wake up
From this stupid fantasy, come on
Blood stains, speed kills
Fast cars, cheap thrills
Rich girls, fine wine
I've lost my sense, I've lost control, I've lost my mind

Blood stains, speed kills
Fast cars, cheap thrills
Rich girls, fine wine
I've lost my sense, I've lost control, I've lost my mind