Her new spread in Maxim is pretty hot.
I’m posting this from inside a Seattle’s Best Coffee. I’ve never taken my laptop to a coffee shop for these purposes. I feel kind of dirty. And not from posting half-naked pictures of Aguilera.
Slice Of The Day: Christina Aguilera
meh… GQ spread was much hotter
The mad scientist’s eyebrow twitched.
“How dare they banish me! Don’t they know who I am? I’m the Emperor of Evil!” Dr. Chaos roared as he paced across the room.
Sprockets the Cat yawned and slouched in his chair. He had heard this tirade many times before and knew it was best to not interfere.
“This new golem army of mine is almost finished. They’re just missing something to make them complete. If only I had enough assistants to gather what I need, but no one will help…” Dr. Chaos stopped in his tracks. He whirled around and pointed a plump finger at Sprockets, who bolted upright.
“You there. Faithful servant, um…”
“Sprockets.”
“Yes, right, Sprockets. I’ve just decided to change my ways. I don’t want revenge anymore. I just want to be loved.”
The cat stared at the Dwarf.
“Look, Sprockets, only an army of mechanical golems could love someone like me,” Dr. Chaos continued. “I need hearts – lots of them – gathered from the monsters that inhabit these lands so I can give the golems emotions. Only I can’t get the hearts by myself, and I hate talking to people. I need you to go to the villages for me and recruit some kind adventurers looking to help a poor old inventor out.”
“They’re not going to help you for nothing,” Sprockets pointed out. “You do have sort of a reputation.”
Dr. Chaos looked around the room, and his eyes fell upon a dusty treasure chest. “In there you’ll find some scrolls and potions that you can offer them in exchange. But they have to play a game if they want to have them.”
Sprockets the Cat shrugged. Dr. Chaos wouldn’t be a mad scientist if he simply handed out prizes, after all. The cat stood and started making preparations to leave.
“You must be swift, cat!” Dr. Chaos snarled. “We only have a short time to gather the hearts. Begone!”
Sitting next to a cradle of fresh Dion apples at the Giran dock, Pommo’s thoughts slipped back into the evening battle when Gracia troops had made landfall here long time ago. Unconsciously his right hand moved to find the pommel of his sword… and remembered that his sword and armor have since been stored away. “Ah, days of war and chaos are long gone,” he said to himself. Now only prosperity and peace could be found across the land.
As he moved his hand back, Kragg shot him a curious look. Unlike Pommo, Kragg was still wary of everything, holding to the belief that an even larger war is coming. That was why Pommo’s usual advice to anyone was not to spook Kragg, as that stocky Dwarf should not be messed with. A moment later Kragg relaxed himself and took a bite into one of the Dion apples, and then a mouthful of beer. Dwarves don’t like the idea of crossing the ocean.
Out in the water, a fleet of fishing boats were returning, trailing nets behind them. The boat to Talking Island would arrive anytime now, along with the chance to show Pommo’s friend Kyleran what could possibly be the next best drink ever known to Elf kind or mankind: Fungus Juice.
As a matter of fact, the discovery was purely an accident. While searching for the Spore Fungus, Pommo came across a new type of fungus near the Elven Forest. This new fungus was smaller in size, and attacked enemies by spraying poisonous spores. Commonly known fungus fluids are all poisonous. However, the extracted fluid from this fungus, when mixed with small amount of water and honey, gave anyone who drank it a special boost of energy. Pommo found it helps him focus. Best of all, it had no after taste! Not to mention that the Ents loved it as well.
Standing up and taking a deep breath of the salty sea air as the passenger boat was about to dock, Pommo was eager to show his friend the plan to turn this drink into a health drink for the Elven masses. Everyone knew that Kyleran, one of the most famous spirits tasters west of Aden Castle Town, had a taste for mysterious potions. It might take years, or hundreds of years, for it to be popular. But the Elf has a longer lifespan and so time is not a factor to him.
While Pommo was lost in his thoughts once again, Kragg took the opportunity to smack Pommo on the head. “Hurry up you slow wit elf! Always daydreaming about that worthless mushroom juice of yours,†he said to Pommo with a smile.
Without saying a word, Pommo patted him on the shoulder and boarded the boat. Among all his friends, Kragg and Omega were his foremost critics. According to them, beer is the only miracle drink known to all races, especially Dwarf and Orc, and surely no one will like to drink the juice of fungus!
Well, even if the plan failed, at least the Ents would have a new drink to enjoy.
As the boat started to set sail, Pommo turned back toward the dock and shouted, “Love and Peace!â€
Draven was a human once, the son of a respected blacksmith in Talking Island village. He was a normal child in many ways, but even at an early age there were some signs of what was to come. Nearly every day he would come home battered and bloodied after being sent out to play with the other children.
When his father would ask him what happened, it would always be a similar response. Sometimes it would be a fight with a group of bullies that Draven saw teasing a smaller child. Other times, a brawl with street urchins tormenting a cornered animal with sticks in an alley. Time and time again, his father would try unsuccessfully to teach Draven that he couldn’t save everyone.
As he grew older he showed an aptitude for the fighting arts and trained day and night at the fighter’s guild. As his skills grew, so did the evils he faced. When a group of Orcs attacked the town and kidnapped some of the villagers, Draven would be the first to sign up for the raiding party to try to get them back. When a group of thieves were breaking into homes, he patrolled the streets every night until he found them and brought them to trial.
There were also defeats. When the thieves admitted they were working for a corrupt noble in Gludin, Draven thought a great victory had been secured. As the weeks dragged by he slowly realized that nothing was going to be done. He knew in his soul that political connections and bribed officials shouldn’t be able to prevent what was right. When the town elders refused to press the issue for fear of losing important trade contracts with the mainland, he felt ill for days.
Then came the fateful day when he returned home early from training to discover his father placing a box into a secret hollow in the floorboards. He quietly stepped back out of the room without being seen, but returned after his father left to tend the forge. What he found broke his heart: sacks of coins with the mayor’s insignia on them. He immediately thought of the missing lockbox recently taken from the mayor’s residence. The crime had left no sign of forced entry and no witnesses. With tears in his eyes he realized his father had crafted most of the locks in town and could easily open any of them.
Stumbling out into the fields of Talking Island he screamed his frustration and rage to the skies. He fell to his knees and implored the gods for the wisdom to understand a world that had no honor. Einhasad was so moved by his impassioned pleas that she decided to imbue him with the power to uphold justice across the land. He was bathed in a ray of blinding light and was reborn.
From that day forth, both Draven and Aden would be irrevocably changed.
It’s a shame about her face.
WTF is up with all these spam post latley?
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