Like trading drugs?
look no further than my playthrough of GTA ChinaTown Wars for all your info on how to trade and exploit the drug market for max profit
If you have seen the blog/ website recently you will have noticed a complete site overhaul, this follows my publication and subsequent removal of my short story which will be re-released upon further work, look out for that. In other news certain pages have been updated, just look below this text to find a page…
The Origin Of Love?
The ‘ Origin Of Love?’ – Ah why That cruel question ask of me When thou may’st read in many an eye He starts to life on seeing thee? And should’st thou seek his end to know My Heart Forebodes, my fears foresee He’ll linger long in silent woe But live – until I cease…
Remember Thee! Remember Thee!
Remember thee! Remember thee! Till Lethe quench life’s burning stream Remorse and shame shall cling to thee And haunt thee like a feverish dream! Remember thee! Ay, doubt it not. Thy husband too shall think of thee! By neither shalt thou be forgot, Thou false to him, thou fiend to me!
Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss’d Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust Like Foolish Prophets forth; their words to Scorn Are scatter’d, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.
Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise To Talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies One thing is certain; and the Rest is Lies The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.
Oscar Of Alva – A Fallen Hero?
And when that gale is fierce and high A sound is heard in yonder hall It rises hoarsely through the sky And vibrates o’er the mould’ring wall. Yes, when the eddying tempest sighs, It shakes the shield of Oscar brave But there no more his banners rise, No more his plumes of sable wave.
Oscar Of Alva – Origins
Faded is Alva’s noble race, And gray her towers are seen afar No more her heroes urge the chase, Or roll the crimson tide of war. But who was last of Alva’s clan? Why grows moss on Alva’s stone? Her towers resound no steps of man, They echo to the gale alone.
Line To A Lady Weeping
WEEP, daughter of a royal line, A Sire’s disgrace, a realm’s decay Ah! happy if each tear of thine Could wash a father’s fault away! Weep – for thy tears are Virtue’s tears – Auspicious to these suffering isles And be each drop in future years Repaid thee by thy people’s smiles! Lord Byron
Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare And those that after a TO-MORROW stare A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries “Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There!”