Okay, In Honor of the Oscars, I'm launching my own Movie Awards series, creatively titled The Raptors!
You can check out The Official Site for details and to nominate a movie for any or all of the categories.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or the press, or the right of the people to peaceably assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
A well-regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Sunlight scorched the canyon floor as the Boss and the Judge met. Bitter rivals that they were, everyone around knew it wouldn’t be pretty. Words were exchanged; shoves were traded back and forth. Cooler heads managed to intervene before the situation could escalate further. After some debate, it was decided that the pair would settle their differences in the usual way.
Paint gleamed in the bright light as the crowd pushed the Boss and the Judge to the line. The Boss’s smile stretched ear to ear as he came to a stop. He had the horsepower to win this and he knew it. He reached over and slid the key into the ignition. A moment later, the loud rumble of his 429 echoed off the canyon walls.
The Judge’s lips didn’t form a smile, but rather a satisfied smirk. He knew that the Boss had the horsepower to win, but he had the torque and the gearing. Soon the echo of his Ram Air 455 joined the Boss’ 429 in thundering off the limestone. Oh, the Judge almost forgot; he also had his secret weapon. He had The Humbler. The Judge leaned down under the dash and pulled a small switch. Immediately, his rumbling changed to a deep, throaty growl. A few blips of the throttle, and the growl became a bellowing roar.
The Boss’ smile began to falter. No one had told him that the Judge had The Humbler. Now he was nervous. He knew what The Humber did for the Judge’s performance. A moment ago, he was sure he could win. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He glanced over at the Judge. The Judge didn’t look back; his eyes remained fixed down the asphalt ribbon ahead of them. The Boss turned away from the Judge and began revving is own engine. Twin roars shook the canyon walls; some of the onlookers winced and covered their ears.
A girl emerged from the crowd, her long brown hair whipping around in the heat-stirred wind. Stopping before the feuding pair, she unwrapped a scarf from around her neck and held it aloft. A hush fell over the crowd, broken almost instantly by the Boss’ bellow and the Judge’s roar. Wheels strained against their brakes, tach needles hovered just above their sweet spots. All eyes locked on the scarf. For a long moment it hung there, whipping back and forth over the girl’s head. Then she released it, and the canyon came alive with the scream of big-block V8s, and the Boss and the Judge raced off in a cloud of exhaust and burnt rubber.
Posted by Raptor at 4:21 PM