Two zombie dreams in the past week and a half, WHAT DO THEY MEAN?

army blanket
Pastor of Muppets asked:

*SORRY IN ADVANCE FOR IT BEING SO LONG, I WANTED TO MAKE SURE I WAS DETAILED*

*sigh* 2 I’m ok with recurring dreams. It’s just that mine are usually scary and have bleak/depressing endings. I had one recurring dream for a while about a serial killer I was trying to escape. But now, the central focus is zombies. I had one last night and another one about a week and a half ago.

I’ll explain my first and second one.
First: 9-21-09 (I keep a dream diary for the weird ones)
(dreamt early Monday morning:)

I dreamt that the world was post-apocalypse zombie world. The only survivors hid themselves. My best friend and I were presumably the only survivors of our families. We were walking down her street in the afternoon, (which was in ruins) and somehow we found this girl named Cassie (a friend of a friend in real life, I never really talk to her) and the guy I have a crush on. (Although he didn’t really look like himself.) We were all sitting downstairs in my bff’s living room, talking. Cassie said “well we could all make it” and was being optimistic. Bff said “look at this place. yeah, we’re all gonna die at some point, soon.” My crush kinda looked at me and said “that sucks, I really don’t want to die a virgin…” (I think he was hinting to me) and Cassie looked at him, surprised, grabbed his hand and dragged him into another room. Nicole and I looked at each other and shrugged. (but I secretly felt very very angry.) So I went up to the door and put my ear against it…..and well yeah. You know what they were doing. (lol it makes me jealous to even think about.) I had heard enough so I went back over to sit by bff on the couch. The others came out after 5 minutes and were both disheveled and sweaty….I felt utterly repulsed by both of them. So when my crush came over to sit by me, (my best friend had gotten up to get some orange juice,) I inched away. He moved closer to me, flirtily and said “hey” and I said “hi…” and moved away. This happened 4 times until I was on the arm rest of the couch and just got up to walk around. Cassie just looked pleased with herself. My crush looked like he had no idea why I was pushing him away.

Bff asked if I wanted to go upstairs and ditch them and I said promptly yes. It’s early morning now, maybe 4 a.m. So we go up to her room and chilled for a while in her room. (there was a jelly lime green door lock that was supposed to keep the zombies away.) The sky outside was pure grey. We had (stupidly) left the door open and then we heard the doorbell ring. Pizza delivery!! Except it was a ploy and it was really a zombie in disguise?!?!!?! And suddenly the house is being attacked by a mass of zombies. Cassie and my crush are presumably dead, and my bff and I are trying to lock ourselves in her room. And we succeed, unnoticed, until a kid from a past theater production I was in (D.) comes along, seeking refuge with us. I convinced my bff to let him stay but apparently he accidently lured a mini/baby zombie, it was on his shoulder and bit him. So we had to kill him. I put a blanket over and started smashing his face with a book while he was on the bed, dead? But i told my bff it wasn’t working and she said “yeah, you have to gouge out their eyeballs, slit their wrists and cut open their stomach.” I then proceed to *** very heavily and she said “ok fine, I’ll do it…” but before we get a chance, a full-size army type looking zombie comes up to our semi-open door and pushes his way in. We know we’re doomed. It approaches us but then we hear a noise behind him and it falls, vanquished. ANOTHER girl (C.) from the same play and some other teenagers from her theater school killed it. I go and hug C and a dude in their group asks if we want to join their group or survivors, we agree. Some others in the group carry D. along with us. So we walk, and on the other side of the upstairs landing, there’s a room, opposite a food court????? (Smoothie shop?) so we go to THIS heavily baracaded area (with more useless jelly locks,) and sit on a bed and settle in. It’s sort of a small space but it’s big enough for everyone oddly. I see some parents from the music school I attend and more actors from the play, I say hi to a few. I still feel down about my crush and was looking at me feet until I hear someone standing over me say “want some candy?”. I look up and it’s D!! I jump up and hug him and tell him I thought the was dead. But he was alive! He offered me candy again and I accepted. I got a gummy orange flavored thing, it was really good. So anyway, we’re just chilling here when some of the moms decide that they want smoothies and they venture outside to the food court, an area that was being patrolled heavily by zombies (why would zombies patrol?.) So they go out, leave the door open and stand in line. (why the hell was there a line????) A zombie dressed up as a cashier was at the cash register.) The zombie patrollers saw the moms and started tearing them apart, limb from limb. And sinc

Books and Authors: How does this sound?

army blanket
Haley asked:

I remember in my childhood my best friend, Michelle , used to take the plastic soda bottles that were on the banks of the Ohio River at my grandmothers house and put messages in them. She put twigs in them when we were four. I wonder if anyone ever got our letters and twigs. Maybe they wrote us back. I like to think they did. Tonight I’m going to send my own letter. I guess I’m just a foolish sixteen year old girl. Silly little Gabrielle Sterling. Maybe, who ever finds it will be my Dark Prince.

Dear who ever finds this,

My name is Gabrielle Rose Sterling. But, my best and only friend calls me Bri. I live in Kenova, West Virginia. You probably have no idea where that is, do you? I don’t either it is like another planet to me. I’m into the paranormal. A little more then I should be. The kids at Spring Valley always look at me strange, but I’m used to it by now. My hair is a copper color cut in short spikes and my eyes a rich sapphire. My sister is probably my parents favorite. All American girl you can call her. Long flowing gold hair and sky blue eyes. Homecoming queen and cheerleader. While I’m just sitting in the stands. Sorry, for boring you with my mellow drama. Tell me about your life, please.

Yours Truly, Gabrielle Rose Sterling

I slid the letter into an old Mountain Dew bottle that I ripped the label off of. I silently slipped on my ebony Russian Army coat. My Converse made a soft thud against the oak floor. My feet etched their way to the back door. I quietly shut the door behind me put my spine stiffened in alert when it made a loud locking noise behind me. My feet hit the rough wood of the back porch. The steps creaked beneath me as I made my way to the gate that lead down to the Ohio River front. The metal of the steps clanked against the weight of my shoes as I made my way to the river. I could hear the snakes his in the distance. It sent a shiver up my spine. Little me afraid of snakes while they reside In myth & lore. I just always had an unexplainable fear and hatred of the scaly bastards. The cool October air blew against my face. I tightened the coat around my frame so it could not brush against the rest of my skin. I jumped over the end of grass. My shoes kisses the sand underneath them. I finally came to where sand meet water. They water soaked through the thin material of my Converse. My finger clutched the neck of the bottle. My arm slung back, then forward releasing the bottle to the wind. I dropped to the awaiting mouth of the river. Lost to its blackness. The mortal or immortal to claim it waits on the other side. Will they write back? I’d like to think they would. I watched it float down the Ohio till it was out view. I turned and climbed up the wall of earth that blocked my way to the grass. I ran to the light of the house. Once, through the door I let out the breath that I held in for the last two minutes. I kicked of the neon green high tops. And, made my way to the guest room beside the kitchen. My blonde twin lay sleeping on the bed. Her curls splayed out in every direction. I shrugged off the coat silently, but the metal buttons made a loud clank as they hit the oak floor. The girl in the bed stirred to face me. Her sky eyes shot open and met with the gems of mine. A silent conversation was passed between us. But, neither of us paid attention to the topic at hand. She lifted up the blanket allowing me to slide in. My hands tugged at the tangled mess of gold. The copper of mine clashed against it. My mind slowly became a blur of color and whispers.

“Your weak, Gabriel.” taunted a females voice.

“I will kill you! I will send you back from where you have risen from! Mark my words, Lillith. You will be slain by my sword.” I raged.

“Gabriel.” a voice whispered.

The sun shown through the window. It burned my eyes life a fire to bare skin. It was that dream again. That is how it always ends. Who is Lillith? Who is Gabriel? It can’t be me. Who is that voice? Why are they calling for me? A tug at my spikes made me wake from my thoughts. I turned to see my blonde twin and grandmother staring at me. Concern was etched into their sky eyes. A could hear the coughing of my step-grandfather in the other room. I rose from my place on the bed, and walked towards the kitchen. I grabbed the milk from the fridge, and went to work on making a cup of coffee. This was my tradition since I was four the only difference was that Lillian was here instead of Michelle. My movements were more like a dance then a walk as I gathered all my ingredients. A hand was placed on my shoulder to stop me mid-parquet.

Do you love when your grandparents tell you old true stories?

army blanket
Hulktress <3's Nathan G!! asked:

I do, i wished my granddaddy was still here, he told the best stories. I cant remember alot but he told me one time, when he was stationed in Europe because of WWII, this very old poor woman, came up to him and asked for a army blanket so she could make a coat out of it. And he gave it to her :) My grandaddy was sooo nice and inspirational even though his life was so hard and sad.

Q. About Welfare (”Relief”) During the Great Depression (1930’s) in the USA (not a homework question)?

army blanket
rpg asked:

A relative of mine who is in her 80s now told me that during the Great Depression her dad used to take her down to the local fire station to get food, and that they were able to get food and used clothing and blankets, etc., at the fire station because they were poor. She remembers getting used World War One army blankets there too, which their family needed to keep warm. She said they were living in the attic of some other relatives’ house because her father was out of work.

I am curious about this: was this some kind of community service thing that local fire fighters did, like some of the food and clothing drives that firefighters do today? Or was this some kind of state or federal program? She said they didn’t need to fill out paperwork, they just went there and got things they needed sometimes. She said they were “on Relief” which I think was welfare in those days. Of course she was a child, and may not have been aware of what her parents needed to do to qualify for this. That is why I’m curious.

Any info about welfare (”relief”) programs during the Great Depression is appreciated.

Can you read my story make corrections and give me what could happen next and the ending?

army blanket
Taran asked:

not supposed to be long. im doing 3 pages. im in 8th grade. here it is:

World War III

My family refugees, my eldest son captured by enemies and locked in a labor camp and I made a soldier of the U.S army. It has been five years since the war started and I’ve been barely scraping death. I’ve been shot in the arm but I survived. I am so lucky to be alive in a sea of corpses; I keep on thinking I’m the saddest person in the world, how selfish can I be? I know families that have been put all around the world struggling for their lives in places without their young ones. Yet I am only sorry for myself. My name is Alex Mercer I’m a man with a purpose, to end this. I can remember the time I looked up at my youngest son as he rode the train to who knows where his eyes drowned in tears of sadness. Then and there I made a vow to myself to end this war and reunite with my family no matter the cost. Your probably wondering why this war started? I blame Bush. Due to the war in Iraq it was the perfect excuse for North Korea to wage war against US. Iraq and North Korea have banded together with Taiwan, Japan, Singapore and China to make the triple AAA, Anti American Alliance.

“Mercer!” shouted the General at the top of his lungs. I wasn’t listening. “Mercer!” he screamed again. I was so shocked that I hit my head the canopy of my bunker; writhing in pain I stumbled out of bed rubbing the area where I hit my head.
I scurried over to the general half asleep. “What are you doing Mercer?! It’s time to set up camp now get your *** over here.” It’s been a long time since I’ve been stationed in the countryside, five years to be exact, I looked out of the window of my tank ready to get out however I was dismayed to see charcoal sky, trees without leaves and frightened villagers. This war doesn’t affect only the city but the entire country. How much I’d give to see the countryside as I remember a row of bright yellow sunflowers shining like a golden coin in the sky, rows of crops and grape vines to your left and right and forest of giant trees with people snapping pictures looking at it in awe. Now look at it a dark labyrinth of brick houses and frightened villagers. A tear rolled down my cheek looking at this horrendous sight.

Suddenly the tank came to an abrupt stop near a flowing river. The force of the stop made me jerk forward, I really should’ve gotten used to that by now. I walked out and embraced the humidity and the clean country air; it wasn’t as clean as I was used to in the countryside due to the vehicles moving in and out however it was better then the scent of blood which my nose was now most accustomed to. At the corner of my eye I saw our squadron already a quarter ways up the looming hill ready to set up camp, I quickly rushed up not wanting to get lost. When I reached the top of the hill I looked like I was in a sauna panting heavily I looked for signs of my friend who’d I’d always camped with, Ben. He was on the top right side of the hill gazing up at the desolate scenery.
“Amazing how this war can affect so many people,” Ben was a deep and sensitive person and definitely had more character charisma then the typical American soldier. “It just pains me how this world grows weaker everyday and how we once brought prosperity and now death.”
“I too feel this world’s pain everyday.” I stated. Despite having humid conditions, this night was exceptionally cool; it was the perfect time to lie under the stars.

I woke up rubbing my face yawning loudly, I looked up at the sky, it was a light periwinkle color, but usually it was a dark crimson color. I then thrust my blanket and brought myself up. It was early in the morning around 5 o’clock. I could tell by the fact that the sun was still hiding between the protruding mountains and that only me and a few people were up, tired yet still making themselves breakfast. I plodded over to the cargo van where we had a choice between oatmeal, spam and spicy tuna sandwich, I usually took the spam but I felt adventurous this morning so I grabbed a spicy tuna sandwich, I need the extra carbohydrates anyway. As I gobbled my breakfast, a gentle gust of wind blowing against my hair.

I’m trying to find a Go Navy Beat Army throw blanket. I have searched for hours with no luck?

army blanket
JamieL asked:

Does anyone know if they exist and if so where are they hidden? Thanks

How does this story sound?

army blanket
Haley asked:

I remember in my childhood my best friend, Michelle , used to take the plastic soda bottles that were on the banks of the Ohio River at my grandmothers house and put messages in them. She put twigs in them when we were four. I wonder if anyone ever got our letters and twigs. Maybe they wrote us back. I like to think they did. Tonight I’m going to send my own letter. I guess I’m just a foolish sixteen year old girl. Silly little Gabrielle Sterling. Maybe, who ever finds it will be my Dark Prince.

Dear who ever finds this,

My name is Gabrielle Rose Sterling. But, my best and only friend calls me Bri. I live in Kenova, West Virginia. You probably have no idea where that is, do you? I don’t either it is like another planet to me. I’m into the paranormal. A little more then I should be. The kids at Spring Valley always look at me strange, but I’m used to it by now. My hair is a copper color cut in short spikes and my eyes a rich sapphire. My sister is probably my parents favorite. All American girl you can call her. Long flowing gold hair and sky blue eyes. Homecoming queen and cheerleader. While I’m just sitting in the stands. Sorry, for boring you with my mellow drama. Tell me about your life, please.

Yours Truly, Gabrielle Rose Sterling

I slid the letter into an old Mountain Dew bottle that I ripped the label off of. I silently slipped on my ebony Russian Army coat. My Converse made a soft thud against the oak floor. My feet etched their way to the back door. I quietly shut the door behind me put my spine stiffened in alert when it made a loud locking noise behind me. My feet hit the rough wood of the back porch. The steps creaked beneath me as I made my way to the gate that lead down to the Ohio River front. The metal of the steps clanked against the weight of my shoes as I made my way to the river. I could hear the snakes his in the distance. It sent a shiver up my spine. Little me afraid of snakes while they reside In myth & lore. I just always had an unexplainable fear and hatred of the scaly bastards. The cool October air blew against my face. I tightened the coat around my frame so it could not brush against the rest of my skin. I jumped over the end of grass. My shoes kisses the sand underneath them. I finally came to where sand meet water. They water soaked through the thin material of my Converse. My finger clutched the neck of the bottle. My arm slung back, then forward releasing the bottle to the wind. I dropped to the awaiting mouth of the river. Lost to its blackness. The mortal or immortal to claim it waits on the other side. Will they write back? I’d like to think they would. I watched it float down the Ohio till it was out view. I turned and climbed up the wall of earth that blocked my way to the grass. I ran to the light of the house. Once, through the door I let out the breath that I held in for the last two minutes. I kicked of the neon green high tops. And, made my way to the guest room beside the kitchen. My blonde twin lay sleeping on the bed. Her curls splayed out in every direction. I shrugged off the coat silently, but the metal buttons made a loud clank as they hit the oak floor. The girl in the bed stirred to face me. Her sky eyes shot open and met with the gems of mine. A silent conversation was passed between us. But, neither of us paid attention to the topic at hand. She lifted up the blanket allowing me to slide in. My hands tugged at the tangled mess of gold. The copper of mine clashed against it. My mind slowly became a blur of color and whispers.

“Your weak, Gabriel.” taunted a females voice.

“I will kill you! I will send you back from where you have risen from! Mark my words, Lillith. You will be slain by my sword.” I raged.

“Gabriel.” a voice whispered.

The sun shown through the window. It burned my eyes life a fire to bare skin. It was that dream again. That is how it always ends. Who is Lillith? Who is Gabriel? It can’t be me. Who is that voice? Why are they calling for me? A tug at my spikes made me wake from my thoughts. I turned to see my blonde twin and grandmother staring at me. Concern was etched into their sky eyes. A could hear the coughing of my step-grandfather in the other room. I rose from my place on the bed, and walked towards the kitchen. I grabbed the milk from the fridge, and went to work on making a cup of coffee. This was my tradition since I was four the only difference was that Lillian was here instead of Michelle. My movements were more like a dance then a walk as I gathered all my ingredients. A hand was placed on my shoulder to stop me mid-parquet.

How much description is too much description?

army blanket
Stammo asked:

I am currently working on my fourth major edit of my first major novel that I plan on publishing within a year or two. But as I have been working on this edit, I cannot stop wondering, is this just too much description?

My other edits consisted of lots of dialogue, but hardly any description. So I am going to ask your advice, not on if you think this is a good story or not or if you would read it, but if you think that there is just too much description.

Here are the opening paragraphs of my first chapter-

The war bells of Tadington chimed endlessly in her mind as she dashed through the palace halls without hesitation. The bells tolled on, shrilly piercing the darkness as snow fell heavily from the heavens. Already, a blanket of snow and ice covered Rhodinia, even though the New Year had just begun almost two weeks ago. But the snow was the least of her worries. She considered it a blessing until she realized that escape would be nigh impossible. With the invading forces cutting off her only escape route, her situation was hopeless.

But why make such reckless haste? If hope was truly gone, then why continue running?

Dong!

The war bells ebbed at her sanity as they continued to haunt her like a vivid nightmare pursues its victim, long after they have awakened. There wasn’t much time. Her pace picked up as she remembered that she wasn’t running away. There was some one else that she longed to save above herself.

She blinked the tears from her eyes that still fell like rain. It was over. None had to tell her, for she already knew it. The hellish bells confirmed her fears with every spine-chilling ring. Nothing could stop it any longer. Her father had died and his army had failed. Emporia was left unprotected and exposed, weak, and ready for the taking. There was little hope left for her now, yet she still ran.

Care to criticize/comment on my poem?

army blanket
splurp asked:

A pantoum! How about that! A little less rigid than the typical pantoum…http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pantoum

Anyways…here it is:

Maryanne

Ten years had lived Maryanne:
A blushing lassie with flaxen braids and
checkered dress of strawberries and cream.
With yearning sapphire eyes.

The blushing lassie with flaxen braids
stumbled into a human crib.
Her glittering sapphire eyes yearned
a cradle, wrapped delicately in soft, furry blanket.

Her stumbling into a human crib
sealed my maternal covenant:
To embrace her in the softest blanket—human flesh—
away from stampeding, murdering boys.

Obeying my maternal covenant,
I wove her flaxen strands into gleaming tapestry.
Away emerged stampeding, murdering boys in
faint clanks of steel armor.

Her flaxen tapestry gleamed
until armies in shimmering silver scales set afoot.
The endless clamoring of steel armor
shamed Rapunzel’s golden tapestry to mousy drab.

Their shimmering silver scales
and razor scythes and wooden arms
humbled her royal tapestry with
a first cut—a jagged sliver of a worm’s hole.

The razor scythes and explosive wooden arms
glimmered in my view—like wet dew in morning sun.
A jagged hole of an uninvited mole shredded through a
Maryanne crouched behind a fortress layered with dust.

Like wet dew glimmered
salty streams flowing down a Maryanne
crouched behind the fortress,
stained with dust.

Salty seas drenched Maryanne
until shimmering armors faded dull as lead.
I found Maryanne, stained with dust,
mature, newly hardened with scars.

The lead armors faded duller.
The shredded dress of red and white
scars clothed Maryanne (barely), all hardened, dried.
Ten years.

**Please…intelligent criticisms/comments. I can tell who actually understands poetry and who doesn’t by reading one’s answers.

even more about marine corps boot camp brutality, an EXPOSE’: two recruits were talking among themselves.

army blanket
Beaujock asked:

A di threw hard cover books at their heads, i was sent to the pit just for making an unauthorized water call. another thing about water, some recruits were made to do bends and thrusts after a 5 mile hump just because they drank water from their ccanteens without asking permission. a few recruits been held back a week in training for violations they never done, a guy was blanket partied, he ran to the DI’s duty hut, banged on the door, and the DI laughed in his face and slammed the door shut. my question, is, why the army, nay, and air force dont use these sadistic tactics but the marine corps feels they have the right to do so?
i just cant understand the point of the squad leader choking me, was that supose to improve my performance?