Orange County Floor Kitchen Bath

alright so i’ve never written anything before, and i just had this random thought and decided to write it down. please give me any suggestions or comments. no mean ones please! thanks. enjoy.
Prologue
They had been waiting their whole lives for this mission. The fate of the entire land rested on their shoulders. There were three of them, if there had been any more and they would have been discovered, if there had been any less and they wouldn’t have been able to get the job done.
The first man held his breath as a guard turned the corner. The three of them were highly adept at disguising themselves, and they blended right in with the shadows. They winced as a putrid smell hit their nostrils; it figured that Malengar had chosen to use gorgs as guards.
Gorgs were among the foulest creatures to walk the land of Onajetta. They could grow up to eight feet tall, although most of them were only about six. Their skin was rough and served as their armor. It ranged in color from midnight blue to black. Their oily, at loss for a better word, hair was usually black, but occasionally white. They gloried in decay and darkness, and were definitely useful because of their strength, not intelligence.
The gorg passed by and the three of them let out a collective breath. The first man nodded and they crept along the hallway, stopping only when another guard came by.
The three of them knew the layout of the castle by heart. They knew when the guards changed shifts, all of the guards’ names, and which of the guards were gullible enough to let them by.
They had been creeping along for some time when the first man stopped. They had reached a simple wooden door that nobody would look twice at. It was guarded by two gorgs but that wasn’t unusual, most of the castle was. But behind this door, lay Malengar’s greatest weapon, and the thing the three of them were after.
The first man turned and nodded at the girl behind him. He didn’t hear her as she crept around the corner and into the gorgs’ line of vision, but he knew she had moved. The gorgs stared at her, waiting to see if she was a threat. She smiled wickedly, front flipped forward and slammed her fists into the ground. The gorgs cries were silenced as the walls around them caved in.
The two men leaped around the corner and over to the door. The second man reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of shimmery powder. He blew it onto the door and whispered a few nonsense words. There was a small click, and the door swung open. The second man smiled as they cautiously stepped through the doorway. They were quite sure that the treasure was guarded with more than just gorgs.
The room was tiled, and in the center of the room, on a large pedestal, sat the thing they had come for. The two men stepped back as the girl stepped up to the edge of the tiled ring. She studied it for a long while.
“We haven’t got all day.” The second man hissed, just as the girl noticed a slight discoloration in certain tiles all the way around the pedestal. The girl grinned and hopped onto the first discolored tile. Nothing happened. She continued hopping all the way around until she had reached the edge of the pedestal. She could feel the magic emanating from the pedestal and she pulled out the same powder that the second man had used to open the door. She blew on the pedestal and waited for the click. It never came.
“Well you all certainly came farther than I expected you to.” The three of them whipped around. A man came out of the shadows and the first man cursed himself for not noticing. The man was still partly hidden in the shadows and all you could see were his cruel black eyes, glittering in the darkness. “So, how is Aindiel?” The three of them remained silent.
“So you’re not going to speak? Fine, I will. Did you really think you would get away? That you could possibly hoodwink the greatest sorcerer of all time? I am the king!”
“You will never be king!” The girl snarled. “Not as long as Aindiel still breathes.”
“SILENCE!” Malengar yelled, coming out of the shadows fully. He had black hair and a black beard to match his black heart. He was tall and broad in stature, and a very intimidating man. “Aindiel is as good as dead. The alliance of the men, elves, and dwarves is over. The time of change is upon us!”
“You were defeated once Malengar!” The second man cried out. “Prepare to be defeated again.” Malengar turned his attention to the two men and the girl seized the opportunity. She grabbed what they had come for, spun around and disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Malengar screamed in fury and his hands glowed red as the power coursed through his veins.
“YOU – LOST – ME – MY – BOOK!” Malengar thundered, his hands slashed through the air, leaving the two men on the floor, he stormed from the room. He entered his quarters and called for the general of his armies.
“You called my lord?” The man asked, bowing low to the ground.
“Prepare your armies.” Malengar

I just kinda wrote it on a whim. It doesn’t relate to me at all.
Notebook
The notebook lay open, going untouched.
The girl walks away from her one comfort.
The notebook was always her best friend when times were hard.
The only thing that could understand her.
The only thing that went without criticism.
It didn’t tell her to find help.
It only listened.
Listening is the greatest medicine to pain.
But instead, most people think advice is the best cure.
Other people don’t understand exactly what is going on.
Nor will they ever understand.
It is your pain, and your pain alone.
The girl walks back to the notebook, then next day.
She feels empty.
Or worse, used.
She pucks up the notebook and begins her writing.
She stops, mid sentence, and puts it down.
She walks to her desk, and finds her hidden razor blade.
She had turned to cutting, the most painful of methods.
She walks back to her notebook.
She slices up her arm, and lets the blood run free.
It drips onto the clean, white pages of the trusting notebook.
She hides the razor blade, and walks away.
Pretending like nothing’s happened.
Someone knew something was wrong.
They looked in her notebook, only to find white paper.
Nothing written.
Only a few words, here or there, that was cut off mid sentence.
After turning a few pages, they begin to see a couple of red spots.
More and more red spots, until it is the only thing on the now red page.
They start screaming, screaming and running.
The run into the bathroom, only to see her lifeless body on the tile.
The white tile, now red.
Stains that never disappear.
Red water everywhere. Running out of the room, down the hall.
There her body lay, shattered and torn.
Never to
And that’s the end. It’s supposed to cut off like that. My friend didn’t understand it at first, so I’ll tell you the reason of the ending in case you didn’t understand.
The part that says
She picks up the notebook and begins her writing.
She stops, mid sentence, and puts it down.
Then the end,
There her body lay, shattered and torn.
Never to
It cut off mid sentence. Get it?
Sorry, I was thinking of people who wouldn’t get it like my friend. If you already understood it, I hope you didn’t read all that. Anyways, what do you think?

I like granite, but it’s too traditional for me. Also, I know that a lot of people don’t consider it an upgrade anymore because it has become so popular. I want to put equity into my home and I’m not sure that in 5 yrs when I want to sell it, that granite will be as profitable then as it is now. I did here that silestone was becoming a new alternative, but I was also thinking about stained concrete countertops or butcher block. My cabinets are white and a few have glass in the doors. This will be a DIY project so any tips would be appreciated. Also, what color do you think would work best with the cabinets (paint and countertops)?
I plan on doing a neutral back splash like this or something like this, preferably the long tiles that look like stone bricks: http://www.burkesfloorcovering.com/backs…
The floor will be a dark handscraped hardwood like this: http://img.diytrade.com/cdimg/698642/644…
or brick pavers for flooring like this:http://www.theportstonestore.com/images/…
I have also thought about doing a butcher block countertop like this, and I think it will look great with the hardwood floor:http://www.spekva.dk/graphics/interface/…
here is a pic of the kitchen we are remodeling, none of this is my personal style, this is from when the previous owners had it:http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2457/3876…
As you can see, it is small. We plan on putting in stainless steel appliances, and getting rid of the saloon doors. My personal style is more like Anthropologie or french country or shabby chic, i love vintage stuff.
I know this is a lot of information, but I would love any input!! Especially pictures

This is a poem i wrote today.
Unconventional but honest….
When my eyes first open
My body tosses and I quickly close them again
but only time can win this fight
I rise with hesitation and stumble down the hall
then stairs
then the cold tile of our unfinished bathroom
i hate this room.
especially at night when the bugs and vermin crawl through
The air outside is cold and i can hear the droning and blandness of the wind. My mother sits on the couch staring at the television as she does.
Somewhat interested yet unattached
I walk into the kitchen; the sink filled with cutlery and dark water that smells stagnant and cold.
I wash them all
Carefully and quickly ridding them of any debris
I fill my stomach with food that my body doesn’t honor
There is no more tea
I settle for coffee
I mix in sugar and cream to soften its blows
I only drink a few sips
I return to the stairs that lead to my dimly lit room
Lay in my bed with my worn thin stained sheets
I open the window to hear the sounds of birds speaking and cars pass.
I wonder who is in these cars.
I wonder where they are going.
And if only for a moment I want to be with them and near them.
I want to laugh and create memories better than the ones i have to offer.
I want to fly lie the birds that I hear.
I want to go to a place where the wind sings to me.
I want to see the glow of the sun again
and feel warm air caress me and invite me to return any time I please
I no longer want to be bound to this old house with holes in the walls and cracks in its floors.
I want something….
So I sleep and I dream it.
But i’ll wake up soon
Learning of realities’ constance and my inability to leave it.
No matter where I may go.
I’ll wake up tomorrow.

Brick ranch
Chicago’s nw side
near metra and jeff park cta
3br/2bath
remodeled baths, kitchen
new windows thru-out
partially fin. basement
fully landscaped front yard
nice big back yard
**no real dining room**
(combines w/ living room)

What are some really durable floor choices for high traffic areas and also wet areas such as bathrooms and kitchens? We need to remodel, and I heard that Pergo wasn’t good in wet areas.
Please and thank you!

this is from an online dictionary. it seems it has nothing to do with stretching your ears. imagine that.
gauge
? ?/ge?d?/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [geyj] Show IPA verb, gauged, gaug?ing, noun
–verb (used with object)
1. to determine the exact dimensions, capacity, quantity, or force of; measure.
2. to appraise, estimate, or judge.
3. to make conformable to a standard.
4. to mark or measure off; delineate.
5. to prepare or mix (plaster) with a definite proportion of plaster of Paris and mortar.
6. to chip or rub (bricks or stones) to a uniform size or shape.
–noun
7. a standard of measure or measurement.
8. a standard dimension, size, or quantity.
9. any device or instrument for measuring, registering measurements, or testing something, esp. for measuring a dimension, quantity, or mechanical accuracy: pressure gauge; marking gauge.
10. a means of estimating or judging; criterion; test.
11. extent; scope; capacity: trying to determine the gauge of his own strength.
12. Ordnance. a unit of measure of the internal diameter of a shotgun barrel, determined by the number of spherical lead bullets of a diameter equal to that of the bore that are required to make one pound: a twelve-gauge shotgun.
13. Railroads. the distance between the inner edges of the heads of the rails in a track, usually 4 ft. 8.5 in. (1.4 m) (standard gauge), but sometimes more (broad gauge) and sometimes less (narrow gauge).
14. the distance between a pair of wheels on an axle.
15. the thickness or diameter of various, usually thin, objects, as the thickness of sheet metal or the diameter of a wire or screw.
16. the fineness of a knitted fabric as expressed in loops per every 1.5 in. (3.8 cm): 15 denier, 60 gauge stockings.
17. Nautical. the position of one vessel as being to the windward (weather gauge) or to the leeward (lee gauge) of another vessel on an approximately parallel course.
18. Building Trades. the portion of the length of a slate, tile, etc., left exposed when laid in place.
19. the amount of plaster of Paris mixed with mortar or common plaster to hasten the set.
Also, especially in technical use, gage.
Origin:
1375–1425; late ME < ONF (F jauge) < Gmc
Related forms:
gauge?a?ble, adjective
gauge?a?bly, adverb
Synonyms:
2. evaluate, assess, value, calculate.
Dictionary.com Unabridged
Based on the Random House Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2009.
Cite This Source
|
Link To gauging
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chamberscooke.com
Thickness Measurement
Precision Optical Gauging Leading online & off line Solutions
Sponsored Resultswww.lumetrics.com
gauge also gage (g?j)
n.
1.
1. A standard or scale of measurement.
2. A standard dimension, quantity, or capacity.
3. The distance between the two rails of a railroad.
4. The distance between two wheels on an axle.
2. An instrument for measuring or testing.
3. A means of estimating or evaluating; a test: a gauge of character. See Synonyms at standard.
4. Nautical The position of a vessel in relation to another vessel and the wind.
5.
1. The distance between the two rails of a railroad.
2. The distance between two wheels on an axle.
6. The interior diameter of a shotgun barrel as determined by the number of lead balls of a size exactly fitting the barrel that are required to make one pound. Often used in combination: a 12-gauge shotgun.
7. The amount of plaster of Paris combined with common plaster to speed setting of the mixture.
8. Thickness or diameter, as of sheet metal or wire.
9. The fineness of knitted cloth as determined by the number of loops per 1 1/2 inches.
tr.v. gauged also gaged, gaug·ing also gag·ing, gaug·es also gag·es
1. To measure precisely.
2. To determine the capacity, volume, or contents of.
3. To evaluate or judge: gauge a person's ability.
4. To adapt to a specified measurement.
5. To mix (plaster) in specific proportions.
6. To chip or rub (bricks or stones) to size.
[Middle English, from Old North French, gauging rod, of Germanic origin.]
gauge'a·ble adj.

Q. Why do men take showers instead of baths?
A. Peeing in the bath is disgusting.
Q. Do you know the punishment for bigamy?
A. Two mothers-in-law.
Q. What’s the difference between a new husband and a new dog?
A. After a year, the dog is still excited to see you.
Q. Why does the bride always wear white?
A. Because it is good for the dishwasher to match the stove and refrigerator.
Q. What have men and floor tiles got in common?
A. If you lay them properly the first time, you can walk all over them for life.
Q. What is the difference between a battery and a woman?
A. A battery has a positive side.
I know they’re old but what the hell. I’m stuck here working with plenty of time to kill.
Leave a comment or joke of your own if like.

i had a strange dream last night… can you help me understand it?
i was in a room full of poo. it was the guy’s bathroom and there were litterally piles of dung in mounts … there were more round balls of poo and they were everywhere and the floor was generally coated with poo that had ridges in the way it was pasted like the cemet stuff they lay with that ridge tool when they do ceramic tiles and dana (this tom boy girl that i haven’t seen since grade 7) was in there and i had to go poo but i was frustrated b/c everytime i went, i slipped and feel in the poo and in the centre of the room was free candy and there were box and boxes of candy – primarily mike and ikes and nerds and they didn’t have the right kind of nerds i wanted… i wanted the strawberry grape sour nerds but i got bannana strawberry and a box of mike and ike when i picked (Note: in real life Strawberry is my closest best girl friend). My dream Continues below..

Dawson stood at the window looking out at the town below him, than he stroked Joey his *****. Joey’s penis was getting hard so Dawson rubbed it raw with a cheesegrater causing Joey to ejaculate, his semen landing on Dawson face. “mmm nothing quite lie it” Dawson said as he licked the semen form his face. “I brewed it special just for you Dawson” Joey said with a nervous giggle. “How about some fun with electricity” dawson asked. So Joey hooked up some electric jumper cables to dawson’s nipples and then hit the power switch. Electricity went through Dawson’s body dawson moned and writhed in an extacy of pain and pleasure, his penis growing harder byt he second. when it was over he left for work, his job was a s a highly paid executive.
When he got home form work 5 hours later that night Joey had prepared a special surprise for him, dawson walked in his door and was surprised to see the dining room table prepared for what looked to be an elegant meal. The good silver was on the table and two places were prepared one for dawson and one for Joey. But the food had’nt been served yet and the plates were empty. Dawosn sat down in one of the cairs witha smile on his face anticipating a special meal. “Im glad your home dawson coz this meal is one that you aint never had before!” Joey said. He walked to dawson with the meal witch had one of those silver lids over it so dawson could not see what was on the plate. “Are you ready for something real special?” Joey asked with a smile. “Voila!” Joey said as took the cover off of the plate revealing a large pile of human feces on it. “Oh wow” Dawson said i have never eaten human feces before!” “I know thats why I htought it would be such a lovely surprise” Joey said with a grin. So Joey and dawson ate the feces as best they could. By the end of the meal their face were smeared brown and they were struggling not to vomit. Than Dawson pulled out a large wipped and flayed the skin from Joey’s back till Joey collapsed with pain and pleasure. Than Dawson retired for the night on his large kingsized bed while Joey lay writhing on the marble tiles of the kitchen floor, in agony but happy that he satisfied his master for another day.