Arjay Phoenician III
I thank the 22 people who voted for my inaugural article and my first six subscribers, and I hope they will forgive me as I take this time to reintroduce myself to the mechanics of sprucing up this newspaper. While I hope my readership grows because you believe I write with a heart that is articulate, intelligent, savvy, passionate, and even sexy, I know presentation counts for a lot. Bear with me this one time, let me get this out of the way early, and then we can swiftly move on.
This is Belfast, my e-hometown.
This is Van Morrison, born in Belfast in 1945.
This is a poem my grandfather wrote to his first eRepublik love, entitled Together We Roll, reformatted for today’s audience. It can still be found on the dead website for the defunct World-Tribe:
Who am I?
I am a vagabond soul who has walked the earth with you. I am the desert, my feet are dusty, my hair blown back, my cheeks ruddy, my hands calloused, but my fingertips are still soft, and my heart pounds like a hammer on an anvil. I am a seeker of love and lust, and I have built this haven for love and lust to conjoin, twist in each other's desperate embrace, cry out in their aching to be more for one another. I am a secret admirer, still so shy, still content enough to hide, peek around the corner, and watch you walk by, breathless, pulse quickening. I am Ulysses incarnate, and having heard your Siren song, I've changed course, venturing your way and daring the jagged shoals.
Who are you?
You are the first thing and the last thing I think of over the course of a day. You are the brightest star in the constellation of my life. You are the temptation, the Delilah, the thing I fear, my destruction wrapped in my desire. You are feline and sleek, a panther of a woman in tight jeans and high heels. You are the subtle glance, the gentle touch, and the soft whisper.
Who are we?
We are lost and wandering and needing only one another for sustenance. We are Philemon and Baucis, the old couple Zeus blessed by turning us into an oak and a linden, our trunks together, our branches like arms and fingers, intertwined. We are what we thought we would be when we were children, when every dream was sterling, before life proved us suckers: beautiful. We are a couple of tired old farts who take turns getting up, changing the station on the TV, and getting the other a beer. We are laughing, always laughing.
And I think I rock, you rock, and together, we roll.
This is a link to the Bing search page when you enter the words KICK THE ENGLISH IN THE NUTS.
This is an incredibly beautiful brunette. I love brunettes.
And this is best set of manbreasts in Star Trek history, courtesy of Ricardo Montalban.
Lastly, here is the buffer, hoping this practice was successful, and hoping it didn’t really suck.
What is this?You are reading an article written by a citizen of eRepublik, an immersive multiplayer strategy game based on real life countries. Create your own character and help your country achieve its glory while establishing yourself as a war hero, renowned publisher or finance guru.