W K H A A R T I ? S

Hey, anyone who has lived in Iran or knows someone who does, could you tell me who some of the top celebrities are among the people who live in Iran currently? All of my internet search results keep returning people of Iranian descent whose claim to fame has come from their work in international/western culture. I'm particularly interested in celebrities who have either a) experienced some form of government censorship or b) have been accused by anti-government groups of promoting the government agenda. However it's honestly more important for me to understand who would make the Iranian version of tabloids (should such a thing exist) - people who might be compared to the Kim Kardashians, Paris Hiltons, Britney Spearses of Iran with less of an emphasis on true, prestigous artists and more on those who cause drama and/or social controversy. I know the cultural differences between western celebrity culture and the tightly controlled Iranian celebrity culture will make these comparisons somewhat imperfect, however I'd like to get as close as possible to finding connections.

Thank you for your help!

I am interning on a zero budget indie film shooting in Dallas and we are trying to get some restaurants to agree to donate food in leu of hiring a catering company that we cannot afford. Does anyone know a good place to start?

So when I take my 1985 El Camino over about 60mph, the door windows begin to pop out of the little rubber track that holds them in place. How do I keep this from happening? Is there any kind of additional part I can add to keep my windows in place? Thanks!

I need to know this for government class

Do you know where I can get study cheats for Salt: a World History by Mark Kurlansky?

I know what you're probably thinking, but yes, I did read it. I just tend to need extra study help.

PLEASE HELP!!!

I'm currently on page 196 of Breaking Dawn, and am so disgusted and upset I'm about to cry.

Bella is driving me over the edge.

To those who have finished, or are past that part, I implore you. Tell me if completeing this book will totally ruin the Twilight saga for me?

Trolls in the Arts and Humanities section?

Please give me names.

I just came up with this. What if Bella's story ended like this:

Jacob ran off to the north to find the white wolf that lives up there that ran away along time ago (Taka Aki????) to , I don't know, help the wolves fight the vamps when Edward breaks the treaty by bitimg Bella. A few days after Edward bites her (3 days?) the wolves attack the Cullens. Bella sees Edward about to be killed by Jacob in the fight, and, thinking she is powerful enough to defend him, jumps to push Jacob off Edward. Jacob, fighting on instinct, accidentally kills Bella. Edward, in his fury, kills Jacob. Then, the other were-wolves get really, really mad because Jacob is like their second cheif, so they attack Edward. Edward, not caring anymore, lets them kill him as he orders his family to leave.

I know I'm propablly gonna get a lot of angry/hate answers from my fellow Edward lovers, but think about it. It fits all of the characters personalities perfectly.

Karis F.

Okay, what did you think about Eclipse? Bella really got on my nerves. Not only the Jacob thing (which made me throw the book across the room and start screaming in my pillow) but thae fact she's throwing herself at Edward for, like, the whole book. And then, she doesn't even want to marry him.

I mean, she's already got everything with him, why does she constantly have to keep pushing for more?

Who thinks this book sucked? I personally hated it. My fav of the seris is #2.

Okay, If you read my prolouge, here's the first part of the first chapter in Part I. (I changed Robbie's name a bit)

Part I: Three Months Before

Chapter 1

“Megan Doyle?”

I looked up from my doodle of a bird into the face of an unimaginably pale face with. The boy standing over my desk looked down at my drawing with curiosity in his wide, brown eyes. He had those dark circles that really fare people get under their eyes, and his dirty blonde/light brown hair was wild and messy around his slender, feminine face.

“Yeah?”

He held out his hand. “My name is Jacob Marks. Ms. Thompson put us together as lab partners.”

“What?” It was already February and even though I rarely paid attention in AP physics, I knew everyone in my class. Yet, I had never before seen Jacob Marks.

“I just moved here from Nebraska. Ms. Thompson paired me with you.” His eyes took on that wide, childish look again that made me uneasy, but I could tell that there was something different about him. Maybe he was just socially inept, or maybe it was something more serious, but the way he stood, his face so close to mine, his hair so ruffled, as if he just got out of bed, told me that something was up.

“Hey! Ok, lets get started!” I answered in an overly cheerful voice. “Um…what are we doing?” I whispered. Like I said, I rarely paid attention in Physics.

“I think we’re using magnets or something.” There was a black box sitting on our lab table and in it were five, carefully wrapped, horseshoe magnets. Next to it was a two page “Experiment Packet.”

Uggghhh. When was Rockwall High School going get more creative with stuff like this. I did this lab three times from

ages fourteen to sixteen. Well, I guess in Texas, all of the high school funding went to football instead of innovative lab activities. Oh well. I loved football, especially since my best friend in the world, Robert Andrew Michaels, became starting quarter-back for the Rockwall Yellow Jackets.

“Hey, I’ve done this lab a million times. I’ll just fill in the answers and you can work with the magnets,” I muttered to Jacob as I began writing in my signature, messy cursive on the familiar page. When he didn’t answer, I looked over to see him trying to force two repelling magnets together. Yep, there definitely was something different about this boy.

Different was fine by me though. It seemed that Rockwall was the same as any other bible-belt Southern town. Everyone was the same, friendly person as the next, and no one shared opinion or true emotion except for me and Robbie.

I scratched down the answers quickly enough that I had time to finish all my homework in class. Now I just had to entertain Jacob who, as was customary, would not receive homework until he had been here a week.

“So… Jacob…um…where did you live in Nebraska?”

“Lincoln, I think. Somewhere near a cornfield,” he chuckled with a nervous and obnoxious laugh that sounded more like a goose honking than any person.

Somewhere near a cornfield, you think? The whole freaking state is one gigantic cornfield! How could he not know where he lived for most of his life? I could feel the frustration start inside my stomach. I held very little patience for morons. ‘Stop it Meg’ I thought, ‘be nice’

“That’s cool. Why did you move to Rockwall?”

“My dad’s retarded job. He’s some kind of an account-tant or something.” He spoke with such forced annunciation; it was almost painful to listen to. You could tell he was trying to impress me. Something about this idea endeared him to me. He was trying to make me like him.

I smiled. “That must suck. I bet you had a lot of friends back in Lincoln…or where ever you came from.”

Once again, he started that same laugh at this comment. “I didn’t have any friends. No one liked me,” his once cheerful face changed glum in an instant. “No one ever really likes me.”

I don’t know what prompted me to say these next three words, but it was these word that would change my life forever.

“I like you.”

“Really?” His eyes were wide and genuinely excited.

“Yeah, really.”

Prologue

I stood in Robbie’s strong arms, taking in with terror the sight over his back. It happened so fast, I didn’t even have time to gasp before the pale faced boy pulled out his gun and raised it so it was aimed square at my best friend’s back. No one else on the floor was aware of what was going on, as they happily went on with their various dates. Only I knew. And I was petrified.

“Not him,” he whispered. I shook my head.

“Don’t do this Jacob,” I mouthed

Robbie must have realized there was something wrong when I stopped dancing because he murmured, “What’s wrong?” into my ear and turned. Immediately, he shoved me behind him and turned to face his attacker.

“Put it down Marks.” Robert’s voice was cool and collected. I hung onto every word.

“Remember the story Meg?” Jake demanded. I knew what story he meant, and it chilled me to the bone. “We can be just like them. People-“ He looked pointedly at my closest companion, Robbie and then back to me “wouldn’t let them be together in life, so they had to die to be together forever.”

“Jake, I love you, but in a different way than the book characters. Your like my brother,” I answered nervously, clinging to the back of Robbie’s shirt.

By this time, others had noticed what was going on and there were hysterical noises and squeaks coming from all around. Some kids were trying to leave, but Jake pointed the gun in the air and fired. There were a few screams and then complete silence. The confused boy quickly pointed the gun at Robbie.

“Any one leaves, and I’ll start with your star quarter-back!” he screamed, then, he spoke to me, “Please Megan, we can finally be together forever.” He was on the verge of hysteria now.

I clasped Robert’s shirt even harder. Jake noticed. His eyes grew almost as wide as I’d ever seen them, and, in a way, he looked childish, like a little hurt and frightened seven year old who had just been told by his mom that there was no such thing as Santa Clause. “No,” he whispered. I’m sure that he saw the look in my eyes as I watched Robbie. It was the same look that gave away to my friends the way I truly felt about him.

Jake unlocked the safety. “Goodbye, Mr. Harding.”

“Marks wai-“ BANG!!!!!

The sound of the gunshot split the air. I saw Robert fall, holding his stomach. Then, I suddenly felt a dull pain in my leg and noticed the red liquid oozing from my guardian’s back. The bullet was lodged in my leg and suddenly, I fell on top of my friend, incapacitated.

I heard a piercing scream from right next to me and guessed it as my own. Everything went white in my vision, as I began to feel the pain consume me. I heard many gasps and a shuffling of feet followed by six more gun shots.

And then I heard a voice by my ear: “They fight, Paris falls. ‘These violent delights have violent ends.’”

Then one more shot, and all was silent.

I a fourteen year old girl who is 5'6" and weighs 150 lbs overweight?

What about an eleven year old who is 4'7" and weighs 145

Does anyone know a good sight - that's not wikepedia - where I could get legid. info about steam locomotives?

In "The Outsiders," what do these things symbolize?

-sunset

-Mickey Mouse (Soda's Horse)

-the country

-abandoned church

-cut hair

-"Gone With the Wind"

-gold

-burning church

-rumble

-unloaded gun

Please answer. I need these by ten thirty or I'm screwed.

He climbed the steps slowly. I could here him move to fumble with his keys at the door.

Everything went silent. The blareing TV as some guy with a cowboy hat announced big deals. The creaking of my mother's rocking chair. The sound of his curses as he tried to unlock the door in his drunken state.

Even the beating of my heart was lost as I clicked the safety off.

WHAM!!!

The door slammed open, and my mother, as usual, ran up to stroke the monster's unshazen cheek. When he threw her down, I could barely keep myself from raising the gun and shooting him there. But some sense in me said that if I were to miss, it wouldn't be self-defense.

When he looked up and noticed me on the couch, his scowl turned to a wide sneer.

"Mary," he boomed.

"My name is Megan Doyle, Mr. Black, and I would thank you to not confuse it.

"I will call you whatever the hell I ******* feel like calling you. Now you look old enough to know what grownups do in bed. Let me show you.

No room 4 rest o story

Please Critique it for real.

When I woke up, the TV was still on.

I must have fallen asleep on the couch last night. Again. Waiting. Always waiting for him.

He said he would be back.

Lie.

He said he couldn’t wait to see us again.

Lie.

He said he loved me.

The biggest lie of all.

My mother and I both knew where he was.

With her. Gina.

I twisted on the couch to look up into my mother’s ragged eyes. She wasn’t really much older than 38, yet she looked near 50 in the glow of the rising sun outside our picture window. Her hair was once a gorgeous golden blonde that fell over her shoulders in lush, thick locks. Her eyes were once as blue as the Texas sky, and seemed to stretch as deep as it is wide. She rocked nervously in her mother’s old wooden rocking chair on the hard wood floor. Each creak seemed to count another step, another second he was gone.

Creakcreakcreakcreakcreakcreakcreakcreakcreakcreakcreakcreakcreakcreakcreak.

She starred out the window towards the sunrise. Her eyes fixed on the horizon. My mother has always been free spirited, the type that flew wherever the winds would take her, and now there was a great and howling wind pushing against her, pushing her down into her creaky rocking chair. Yet, despite him, she desperately needed to open her wings and fly east. Over the golden sunrise.

“Do it mom,” I could hardly keep from saying it. “Free us both. Fly over the horizon.” But of course, she wouldn’t. I knew exactly what she would do.

He would come home around seven o’ clock AM. Of course he would be drunk. Of course he would be angry. She would run to him, hug him, kiss him maybe. She would open her eyes wide, full of hope. “Now my dear John,” she would say “what on Earth kept you out so late, sugar?” A wide happy smile would spread across her face as she would stroke back a strand of his hair and touch his face with all the love in the world. He, on the other hand, would look at her in disgust, as he always did when he needed nothing from her. “Get away from me you ******* hoar!!” he would scream, as he would throw her aside. “I need nothing from you God damn it!!” As she would try to pull herself up, he would kick her hard in the legs and ribs, causing her to scream out in pain, which would usually wake me, if I wasn’t already up. I would run in and pull my mother to the couch, all the while, my drunken step-father would attack me with slurred curses and threats. After he settled down a bit, he would seize my mom and take her to their bed, where I could hear her forced moans echo through the house.

But that wouldn’t happen this time. This time, I had a plan.

It was stashed under the couch I was on.

I could grab it the minute he came at my mother. I could say he would have killed us both.

A car door slammed outside, and I reached down to wrap my hand around the handle of my father’s handgun.

Falling faster, faster still

cause of death, loss of will

but don't lose yourself to this bottomless night

just catch your breath, and keep up the fight

everytime you fall, your closer to your goal

every time you stumble,you shallow the hole

Though earth pulls you down

and their are demons all around

push on through the hate

and soon, you will be great

I know its juvinille, but it's one of my firsts.