When I met Natalie Portman: A Story.

[StarWarsAgent]

This.... this reminds me of the time that Michael jackson came over to my house to use the bathroom.

No wait... wait, you're right, he didn't.

But his sister did...

Do tell, Please! I was actually in Santa Maria during MJ's trial!

 

[hippy fascist]

seriously man...let.it.go.

 

[Outsiderzedge]

StarWarsAgent is SuperHobo on crack.

 

[StarWarsAgent]

StarWarsAgent is SuperHobo on crack.

lol, who's SuperHobo?

 

[Erzengel]

Starwarsagent: Don't be afraid.

Natalie Portman: I'm not afraid to die. I've been dying a little each day since you came back into my life.

Starwarsagent: What are you talking about?

Natalie Portman: I love you.

Starwarsagent:You love me?! I thought we decided not to fall in love. That
we would be forced to live a lie.That it would destroy our lives...

Natalie Portman: I think our lives are about to be destroyed anyway. I truly, deeply love you, and before we die I want you to know.

*Starwarsagent kisses Natalie Portman Doll*

 

[Knives122]

Are you sure that's just not a black haired barbie thing?

 

[Bad Superman]

 

[hippy fascist]

****, that thing's freakier than hypnotoad

 

[Darthphere]

Im calling the men in white.

 

[RogueLDN]

i hate you starwars agent

 

[Capt Throbberson]

Creepy thread

 

[hippy fascist]

Creepy thread

Creepy guy :meow:

 

[Erzengel]

I'd be more inclined to think that Starwarsagent was abducted by Aliens and probed or was a Time Traveller or had super powers more than he even saw Natalie Portman.

 

[Ronny Shade]

This is unbelievably lame

 

[hippy fascist]

I'd be more inclined to think that Starwarsagent was abducted by Aliens and probed or was a Time Traveller or had super powers more than he even saw Natalie Portman.

seriously man he'll kill you for your avatar...run...run away NOW!

 

[Darthphere]

It almost makes me want to remove the Darth from my name.

 

[Ronny Shade]

Then you'd be "Phere"

 

[Darthphere]

Then you'd be "Phere"

Wow, Ronny. Thanks for the insight.

 

[Erzengel]

seriously man he'll kill you for your avatar...run...run away NOW!

I think I'm a good 7,243 posts away from having to worry about that.

 

[Rambo, John J]

Do tell, Please! I was actually in Santa Maria during MJ's trial!

Ah... therin lies a tale young Padawan. Pull up a pew, and sit back and relax as I regale you with a story so ludicrously awesome (sorry USMC) that it has to be true...


There I was, fresh out of work, bit of a tiring day, so I was looking forward to cooking a nice King Prawn stir-fry (with water chestnuts, noodles, beansprouts, peppers of myraid varieties) then plonking myself down in front of the TV for a night of sheer mindless entertainment.

After a short period of preparation, the meal was ready for cooking. The wok was heating up, the water chestnuts - sliced.

I had a few moments of brief respite amidst the heat and humidity of the hellish kitchen, and had begun to doubt the import or indeed necessity of making my own Stir fry when, A) I actually wasn't really that hungry, and B) The local chinese was a stones thrown down the road.

Suddenly, the clamouring of the doorbell shook me out of my momentary equipoise. I took a second to gather my thoughts and to steady myself just in case the unexpected guest turned out be someone of great import. Projecting confidence, I strode magnificently to the front door, and wrenching back the yale lock with gusto, I yanked open the heavy Oak door to a scene I'll never forget.

'Hi.' Murmured Janet in her throaty, yet somehow flowing and graceful feminine voice. 'My Limo broke down, the driver's a bit lost anyway and I'm supposed to be giving a lecture in the Queens University medical school in fourteen minutes. May I use your phone?'

Not being in the possession of a common household phone, I was forced to reply in the negative, all the while cursing my luck. However, the disappointment which flooded over her face in a wave of crushing despair jolted my memory and I invited her in as I ransacked my jacket pocket. I hoisted out my mobile phone, and held it aloft triumphantly - Excalibur to the rescue.

Handing Janet the phone, our fingers brushed and there was a palpable sensation of electricity, attraction and perhaps... something more? She smiled sweetly as she accepted the phone, and dialled for assistance. I went into the next room to afford her the necessary amount of privacy as is customary when one has been brought up properly to observe proper social ettiquette.

Occassionally, I would see her twirling her hair and casting me sidelong (yet no less unnoticeable) flirtatious glances. Thinking ahead (as is my wont) I filled the kettle and set it to boil. Not knowing Janet intimately at this point, I was unsure of what beverage she would like. I decided to err on the side of caution. Being in Ireland, she would no doubt be wanting to sample some of our more culturally appropriate contributions. I switched off the kettle and poured her a nice pint of Guinness - extra cold.

Having finished with her phone call, and after assuaging my concerns that everything was fine, she accepted the profferred drink and, not breaking eye contact with me, took a long gulp of the creamy head.

We made small talk for what seems to my heart an eternity, but all too soon, our time was up, and as she walked to the door, stumbling on occasion, (I'm not sure whether it was the by-now-crackling connection between the two of us or the fact that she'd perhaps imbibed one too many alchohol units) she turned, and gave me a sisterly hug. I leaned back to let the woman regain her composure (and her sense of propriety) but she leaned into the the hug, and soon it became apparent that this sisterly hug had progressed beyond the boundary of mere sibling affection. She gazed into my eyes, her own chocolate brown iris' - somewhat offset by the dilated pupils - splendorously rich, warm and inviting.

'Rambo...?' She breathed as she sought to entwine herself further in my arms.

'Yes, my sweet?' I replied magnanimously.

'Rambo...?' Her voice faltered, stumbling over the words, she extracated herself from my strong arms and stumbled. Not towards the front door, but back into the house. By now, tears were streaming down her cheeks, and as she turned to me, a look of the utmost imploring and coquettish need somehow improving her already perfect porcelein features.

'Rambo...' she whispered for a final time. '... Where's your bathroom? I gotta puke.'


True story. Swear to SsM.

 

[hippy fascist]

don't encourage him! The next one he does might be the day I ****ed an ewok. Do you want that mental image???

 

[Darthphere]

You wouldn't believe all the people that showed up. You would think, because it's Mexico, there would be all Mexicans there.

Possible new sig.

 

[SsM]

Ah... therin lies a tale young Padawan. Pull up a pew, and sit back and relax as I regale you with a story so ludicrously awesome (sorry USMC) that it has to be true...


There I was, fresh out of work, bit of a tiring day, so i was looking forward to cooking a nice King Prawn stir-fry (with water chestnuts, noodles, beansprouts, peppers of myraid varieties) then plonking myself down in front of the TV for a night of sheer mindless entertainment.

After a short period of preparation, the meal was ready for cooking. The wok was heating up, the water chestnuts - sliced.

I had a few moments of brief respite amidst the heat and humidity of the hellish kitchen, and had begun to doubt the importance or indeed necessity of making my own Stir fry when, A) I actually wasn't really that hungry, and B) The local chinese was a stones thrown down the road.

Suddenly, the clamouring of the doorbell shook me out of my momentary equipoise. I took a second to gather my thoughts and to steady myself just in case the unexpected guest turned out be someone of great import. Projecting confidence, i strode magnificently to the front door, and wrenching back the yale lock with gusto, I yanked open the heavy Oak door to a scene I'll never forget.

'Hi.' Murmured Janet in her throaty, yet somehow flowing and graceful feminine voice. 'My Limo broke down, the driver's a bit lost anyway and I'm supposed to be giving a lecture in the Queens University medical school in fourteen minutes. May I use your phone?'

Not being in the possession of a common household phone, I was forced to reply in the negative, all the while cursing my luck. however, the disappointment which flooded over her face in a wave of crushing despair jolted my memory and I invited her in as I ransacked my jacket pocket. I hoisted out my mobile phone, and held it aloft triumphantly - Excalibur to the rescue.

Handing Janet the phone, our fingers brushed and there was a palpable sensation of electricty, attraction and perhaps... something more? She smiled sweetly as she accepted the phone, and dialled for assistance. I went into the next room to afford her the necessary amount of privacy as is customary when one has been brought up properly to observe proper social ettiquette.

Occassionally, I would see her twirling her hair and casting me sidelong (yet no less unnoticeable) flirtatious glances. Thinking ahead (as is my wont) I filled the kettle and set it to boil. Not knowing Janet inimately at this point, I was unsure of what beverage she would like. I decided to err on the side of caution. Being in Ireland, she would no doubt be wanting to sample some of our more culturally relevant drinks. I switched off the kettle and poured her a nice pint of Guiness - extra cold.

Having finished with her phone call, and after assuaging my concerns that everything was fine, she accepted the profferred drink and, not breaking eye contact with me, took a long gulp of the creamy head.

We made small talk for what seems to my heart an eternity, but all too soon, our time was up, and as she walked to the door, stumbling on occasion, (I'm not sure whether it was the by-now-crackling connection between the two of us or the fact that she'd perhaps imbibed one too many alchohol units) she turned, and gave me a sisterly hug. I leaned back to let the woman regain her composure (and her sense of propriety) but she leaned into the the hug, and soon it became apparent that this sisterly hug had progressed beyond the boundary of mere sibling affection. She gazed into my eyes, her own chocolate brown iris' - somewhat offset by the dilated pupils - splendorously rich, warm and inviting.

'Rambo...?' She breathed as she sought to entwine herself further in my arms.

'Yes, my sweet?' I replied magnanimously.

'Rambo...?' Her voice faltered, stumbling over the words, she extracated herself from my strong arms and stumbled. Not towards the front door, but back into the house. By now, tears were streaming down her cheeks, and as she turned to me, a look of the utmost imploring and coquettish need somehow improving her already perfect porcelein features.

'Rambo...' she whispered for a final time. '... Where's your bathroom? I gotta puke.'


True story. Swear to God.

SWEAR TO ME!!!

 

[Ronny Shade]

don't encourage him! The next one he does might be the day I ****ed an ewok. Do you want that mental image???

Too late

 

[hippy fascist]

I got busy with a couple of beauties last night

t:t:t: