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以下歐美電影榜英文介紹
But I didn't just promise my friends that I'd go out on a date with a girl
I me through the site. I ended up promising that I'd do my very best to
hookup with her.
So of course as soon as I make this promise, I get no applications
from any girls near the Durham, NC area. I know this sounds ridiculous
now, as I get dozens of propositions a day from girls, but you
have to remember that back when the site started, it was almost totally
unknown outside my circle of friends. Maybe 30 people a day saw it, if
that. There were only like three of my stories up, and the notion that
this site would become anything beyond a silly joke never even
crossed my mind. If you had told me then that within two years my
webpage would become my launching pad to fame, I would have
laughed at you and told you stop sucking the glass dick.
One week went by, nothing. Two weeks, nothing. I was starting to get
a little desperate, thinking about all the shit I was going to have to eat
from my friends because I couldn't even get a date off my own Date
Application Page, when finally a girl emailed me. She had just moved
to Raleigh for a job, knew no one, and thought I was funny. We
emailed a little and she seemed cool and normal enough, but I had to
make a couple requests before she sent me a picture of her. Once I
got the pic, it was clear why it took her three emails to work up the
courage to send one.
Ladies and gentlemen: She's a fatty.
Normally, this would have been an easy decision. I'd just say "Get the
Fuck away from me and go back to your trough," and everything would
Be fine, but this time it was different. I had PROMISED my friends that
I would hook up with a girl from my webpage, and FatGirl was my only
option.
I put her off for a few weeks with cutesy email banter, while I prayed for
A girl without a giant oversized pig heart to email me.
One week ... two weeks ... nothing. Finally, I consulted my friends
on what I should do. I showed them the picture:
Hate "WOOOOOOO-WEEEEEEE! YOU GOT YOURSELF A CHUNKER!
FORGET THE DATE, LASSO HER AND TAKE HER TO THE
STOCKYARDS!"
PWJ "Yeah, you did promise. She might be your only chance."
Sling Blade "Just make sure you take her to a bar that doesn't serve
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food. You can't afford that kind of date."
EI Bingeroso "Wow. Yeah man, that sucks. Wow ... but you did promise."
Hate "WOOOOOO-HOOOO! MAX YOU ARE MAKING US PROUD!
GOD BLESS THAT WEBSITE!"
After some deliberation, I decided to meet FatGirl out. It still makes
me laugh to this day, but I legitimately thought that this would be my
only shot at hooking up with a girl through my website, and I didn't
want to blow it ... even if it meant I had to go pork diving. I justified it
as such: Tucker "Well ... maybe she's lost weight. She said it wasn't a
good picture."
[Everyone in unison]
"HAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA."
Sling Blade "Lost weight? What, you think she caught that secret
rubella epidemic sweeping the Carolinas? When was the last time a
girl was better looking than her INTERNET DATING PICTURE?"
Tucker "Well, she does have a cute face. You can't fake that."
EI Bingeroso "This is not going to end wel!."
Hate "Max, just when I think you've tapped out, you find a whole new
way to fuck up!"
Tucker "Fuck you. I hope all of your children have birth defects."
I agreed to meet Fat Girl at a bar in Durham, The James Joyce. I
flatly refused to tell any of my friends where we were meeting, and
made them promise not to come looking for me, in case she turned
out to be morbidly obese, as opposed to just normal fat, like in her
picture. Like an IDIOT, I didn't think about extracting promises for
ctric switch there by the door. I had only gone a little way when … a
hand … touched me… "
Her lips were trembling, and a look of horror came into her wide-open
eyes.
"I—I was so stunned," she struggled on, "I hardly know what I did.
Again I tried to scream, but I couldn't even open my lips. And then I
turned and ran away from the—the thing—toward the window. I had almost reached it when I heard someone coming after me—a queer, shuffling sound—and I knew it was the end… There was an awful noise, and
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something hot struck the back of my shoulder. I was suddenly nauseated; the light of the window disappeared, and I felt myself sinking
down-deep… "
When she ceased speaking a tense silence fell on the room. Her account, for all its simplicity, had been tremendously graphic. Like a great
actress she had managed to convey to her listeners the very emotional
essence of her story.
Vance waited several moments before speaking.
"It was a frightful experience!" he murmured sympathetically. "I wish
it wasn't necessary to worry you about details, but there are several
points I'd like to go over with you."
She smiled faintly in appreciation of his considerateness, and waited.
"If you tried hard, do you think you could recall what wakened you?"
he asked.
"No—there wasn't any sound that I can remember."
"Did you leave your door unlocked last night?"
"I think so. I don't generally lock it."
"And you heard no door open or close—anywhere?"
"No; none. Everything in the house was perfectly still."
"And yet you knew that someone was in the room. How, was that?"
Vance's voice, though gentle, was persistent.
"I—don't know … and yet there must have been something that told
me."
"Exactly! Now try to think." Vance bent a little nearer to the troubled
girl. "A soft breathing, perhaps—a slight gust of air as the person moved
by your bed—a faint odour of perfume… ?"
She frowned painfully, as if trying to recall the elusive cause of her
dread.
"I can't think—I can't remember." Her voice was scarcely audible. "I
was so terribly frightened."
"If only we could trace the source!" Vance glanced at the doctor, who
nodded understandingly, and said:
"Obviously some association whose stimulus went unrecognized."
"Did you feel, Miss Greene, that you knew the person who was here?"
continued Vance. "That is to say, was it a familiar presence?"
"I don't know exactly. I only know I was afraid of it."
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"But you heard it move toward you after you had risen and fled toward the window. Was there any familiarity in the sound?"
"No!" For the first time she spoke with emphasis. "It was just footsteps— soft, sliding footsteps."
"Of course, anyone might have walked that way in the dark, or a person in bedroom slippers… "
"It was only a few steps—and then came the awful noise and burning."
Vance waited a moment.
"Try very hard to recall those steps—or rather your impression of
them. Would you say they were the steps of a man or a woman?"
An added pallor overspread the girl's face; and her frightened eyes ran
over all the occupants of the room.
Her breathing, I noticed, had quickened; and twice she parted her lips
as if to speak, but checked herself each time. At last she said in a low
tremulous voice:
"I don't know—I haven't the slightest idea."
A short, high-strung laugh, bitter and sneering, burst from Sibella; and
all eyes were turned in amazed attention in her direction. She stood rigidly at the foot of the bed, her face flushed, her hands tightly clenched
at her side.
"Why don't you tell them you recognized my footsteps?" she demanded of her sister in biting tones. "You had every intention of doing so.
Haven't you got courage enough left to lie—you sobbing little cat?"
Ada caught her breath and seemed to draw herself nearer to the doctor, who gave Sibella a stern, admonitory look.
"Oh, I say, Sib! Hold your tongue." It was Chester who broke the
startled silence that followed the outbreak.
Sibella shrugged her shoulders and walked to the window; and Vance
again turned his attention to the girl on the bed, continuing his questioning as if nothing had happened.
"There's one more point, Miss Greene." His tone was even gentler than
before. "When you groped your way across the room toward the switch,
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