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Shakespeare's’

Taming of the Shrew

W T A
ho’s hat

(1860) From childhood's hour I have not been As others were -- I have not seen As others saw -- I could not bring My passions from a common spring -From the same source I have not taken My sorrow -- I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone -And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone -Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn Of a most stormy life -- was drawn From ev'ry depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still -From the torrent, or the fountain -From the red cliff of the mountain -From the sun that 'round me roll'd In its autumn tint of gold -From the lightning in the sky As it pass'd me flying by -From the thunder, and the storm -And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view

u!or?

Random CLUE:
He married his twelve-year-old cousin

KEEP READING TO FIND OUT......

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Writer’s Nest

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Greyhound. by Christina Scarlet The service of champions. One form of Pan-American transportation that is guaranteed cheap and ensures an interesting, mostly unpleasant experience. The workers and the customers alike share in their hatred of its existence, mutually despondent and easily annoyed making their interactions both entertaining and dangerous. !!! Traveling on the Greyhound used to scare me. My sister would take it home from college when I was younger and I would stare at her in awe and be enamored by her courage. The stories she would tell were reminiscent of scary stories told around a campfire-! large smelly men sitting next to her, snoring loudly, strange people telling her their life stories, spilling to her their deepest darkest secrets. The Greyhound bus sounded like an adventure, a place where only the strong survived. There was no way I was going to take the Greyhound, I thought to myself. Not in a billion years would I subject myself to those tales of horror. Then I grew up and realized how cheap I was and decided the bus wasn’t that bad. !!! I had to go to Richmond because I thought I wanted to live there. I was going to be staying with my friend’s family until my friend and I could find jobs and an apartment of our own. I’ve only taken the Greyhound to Richmond. I took the bus to Richmond a few times before with little problems. Of course, they say the third time is the charm, and what a charm. Damn that charm. I had just finished a semi-pleasant visit with my sister, brother-in-law, and my newborn nephew. I say semipleasant because my mother was there and makes everything complicated and frustrating. She kept pestering me about going back to Miami and I kept saying, “NO.” Finally, she gave up and was pissed and didn’t say goodbye to anyone the following morning and refused to pick up her cell. Complicated. Anyway, I get to the station and it’s closed. FML. I stare into the empty office, utterly bewildered. According to the service hours on the door the place was supposed to be open until nine that night. Then I hear a feverishly honking car horn. Looking around, trying to figure out what the cause of that ridiculously honking, I find nothing. Until, I see the person in the car is waving imploringly. My elementary school training went out the window as I approached the car. A woman was sitting in the car sniffling, tissues strewn across her lap. She told me she was going home early because she was sick, but she would sell me a ticket. My common sense went out the window as I gave her my information and my money. I looked at my sister who was sitting in the car across the street. Her face was full of worry and doubt. The woman told me to wait there and she would bring me my ticket. I half expected her to drive off laughing heartily at my stupidity. " Luckily, the sickly woman really was an employee and bought me my change and my ticket. I thanked her and she smiled faintly and hopped back into her car and left. The office was officially closed at three o’clock, a full six hours before it was supposed to close. I bet Greyhound would not be happy. I was though, so I didn’t care. The bus finally arrived and I said goodbye and ascended to hell. Everyone’s eyes were on me, burning into my soul, when I stepped upped the stairs onto the bus. At that moment I became the most awkward discombobulated mess. It was like I was drunk as I looked around hazily, stumbling down the aisle talking to myself, “No, I can’t sit there... Whoops... Oh, okay.” I made my way to the end of the bus next to a quiet old man with some teeth missing. Well, I was hoping he was quiet. Actually, my first thought was, Oh shit, he’s racist. Will anyone hear me scream if he tries to kill me. How wrong of me to assume such a thing of him. No, he was not a racist. He was a talker. I kind of wished he was racist, because then I would have had a nice silent trip. " Things I learned about him while we shared a row for 2 and a half hours: He smoked, he’d been on the bus for over 10 hours, he likes gum, he smokes and was happy I didn’t. You’re probably saying, oh that’s not so bad. It is. I didn’t want to know anything about him, but now I have this useless information forged in my head and I’m not sure when it will go away. Along with the fascinating chitchat, a child with a propensity to pee- a lot- was also on the bus. His mother had given up going with him after the first three times he wanted to go. Around the fifth or sixth time is when all hell broke loose.

Writer’s Nest HOW TO SUBMIT:
Continue....

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The little boy skipped to the bathroom, anxious to get into that smelly stall to do heaven knows what. Absently locking the door behind him, he did his business, flushed the toilet excitedly - I knew he was excited about the flushing because of the wonderment in his voice the last billion times he was in there with his mom. He then jiggled the door handle to exit the putrid dungeon, but was unsuccessful. He tried a second time. Then a third. The fourth time he tried the door he finally gave up and succumbed to his impending death in the hallow stench, but then rethought his decision and proceeded to bang furiously on the door. “Get me out of here!” He screamed powerfully. I had no idea a child of his size could scream with that much force. The entire bus had his attention. “Mommy! Help me! Help! Help! Help” Screaming his little lungs out, he dragged out each help like it was his last breath, extending the vowels with furious determination. A hero stood up - not me, not a chance I was getting involved in this drama, and tried to open the locked door. I giggled (in my head of course), what a silly man to attempt the impossible. That kid was a goner. After several minutes and a few more daring passengers willing to crowd the bathroom door in feeble attempts at freeing the screaming child, his mother finally stumbled to the back of the bus and tried to calm the tiny raging lunatic down. “Stop yelling,” she told him sternly. Obviously, he ignored her. Then one of the passengers realized the only way the little guy would get out of that bathroom would be to actually unlock it. So, he told the littly tyke to turn the latch above the handle to the left. “Turn it to the left. You have to calm down. Turn the latch to the left. The latch above the handle.” So now it reached new levels of ridiculousness. The man shouting at the terrified, screaming boy. The mother yelling at her son to calm down. The bus driver yelling back every so often at the mother, “You should have been with him. You should always accompany a child to the bathroom.” This went on for a good fifteen minutes until finally we all heard the wonderful sound of the latch turning. The exhausted yelling youngen stumbled out, face covered in tears. He was trembling as his mother wrapped her neglectful arms around him. He looked at her angrily, but allowed her to hug him. They both went back to their seats and I didn’t see them for the rest of the ride. Everyone on the bus was relieved the noise ceased and went back to their respective books, electronic gadgets, or distant stares out the window. I turned back in my seat, hoping the nice toothless man next to me would give me peace. He did. And I went back to reading, he looked out as America passed him by in bursts of color, reds, oranges and yellows, and probably thought of his existence in this constantly changing world. Greyhound: 1. Chris: 0 but Amused

Writer’s Nest

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SEND YOUR STORIES, SCRIPTS, COMICS AND POEMS TO PFM@NOVALPUBLISHING.COM ONLY ENTRIES UP TO 5 PGS WILL BE ACCEPTED AND REVIEWED

Monkey

My simian friend. Puckered face that collapsed my knees. Kerosene affixed to the fire that had died down. The warmest months involved some light gusts of comfort Light-hearted breezes crossing the flooded Mississippi, To the cosmopolitan island where I remained. Bringing with them optimistic words, Gleaming whispers of a time, That you were here, To reassure me. - Raul Chavez

Had it never Raised concern to the discomforted rhinoceros in the courtroom Horning the jury who persecutes me, I would soberly remain. Proud ungulate endeavor though, to eject me out of my domain. Never has it Been an obscenity to wander blurred from the night. Poking through gloomy corridors and doorways. Never will it Be pardonable to close the door in such a way.

Rhino

-Raul Chavez

Writer’s Nest

HOW TO SUBMIT:

SEND YOUR STORIES, SCRIPTS, COMICS AND POEMS TO PFM@NOVALPUBLISHING.COM ONLY ENTRIES UP TO 5 PGS WILL BE ACCEPTED AND REVIEWED

Promise to Self
I promise to be my own best friend, till the day I die. I will continue to bring forth my own jubilation. Exquisite me, myself, and I. I vow to never give another the power to make me cry. I will remember I am a unique creation. I promise to be my own best friend, till the day I die. I will seek endless knowledge, for my mind I promise to intensify. I will never accept any limitation. Exquisite me, myself, and I. I will forever stay true to me, to myself never lie. I will never settle for imitations.

I promise to be my own best friend, till the day I die. The love for self I will not deny. To other women I will be an inspiration. Exquisite me, myself, and I. Everyday I look in the mirror a smile I will apply. I will not need another to give my life clarification. I promise to be my own best friend, till the day I die. Exquisite me, myself, and I. by Danielle Marie Gittens-Alexander, my
mother and the strongest woman I know.

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I am a 19 year old male from a hispanic family, I am not in college yet but I plan on going to community in about a year or two I have a job now so I!ll be real good. My older brother is 23 and also has not gone to college but is joining the marines. It!s just me, him and my mom and i really dont want anything to happen to him. Sometimes I like said to him little things like “oh, joining the marines is stupid” and he just yells at me and wont change his stupid mind!!!!!!!!! He hung up a poster in our room and I ripped it and he threw my speakers on the floor!!!! I dont know what to do? How can I get my brother not to go to the marines? ItzDAbiz

Hello Noval Publishing! Help me out here! I have this close friend that I go out with all the time, wellz.... She alwayz getz way too drunk and starts telling my business to everyone!!! She gigglez and laughs about personal thingz with my boyfriend and family! SHe did this many timez and when I confront her she sayz she did it by accident and wont do it again! Then she getz drunk again and tellz everyone that I cursed her out because I have an eating disorder! Bitch right? So I told everyone that her mother was an alcoholic and it just runz in the family!! We got into a fight and we got over it, but now when we go out she starts telling her own business to everyone! Itz really embarassing being around her but I dont want to cut a 8 year long friendship. PreciousGirl

Dear PFM,

So my boyfriend hasn't touched me in weeks! I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't gain any weight or change my look at all! Whenever I try to be sexy he turns me down!!!! At first I thought his sex drive was going down but then I saw him in the shower! I think that he's been hiding his sex drive from me and handling it himself behind my back! I asked him about it and he denied it but I know it's true! WTF? Is my boyfriend just not attracted to me anymore? Idk what to do. - FrustratedFemale20

PFM

! FrustratedFemale20,
This situation is not your fault. You are trying the best you can and that's all that can be asked of you. It's time to put your personal insecurities aside and think about what his mental, physical, or emotional issues that might be causing this complication. No one likes to consider the worst but have you entertained the possibility that he may be acting unfaithfully? This could explain why he is not sexual with you and why he feels he needs to hide his sexual acts, he may be ashamed. On the other hand people have changes in their libido depending on their age, job situation, and stress levels. There is also a possibility that the relationship isn't working for him anymore. If he won't talk with you directly then therapy would be the next logical step in order to determine the root of the problem. If he refuses to see a therapist then you need to consider whether or not this relationship is healthy for you to be in. !

Q

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W T A
ho’s hat
(published 1845)

u!or?

Random Clue:
In his first year of college at age 17, he gambled away all of his scholarship aid, and often showed up in class drunk-even during examinations.

   Once it smiled a silent dell Where the people did not dwell; They had gone unto the wars, Trusting to the mild-eyed stars, Nightly, from their azure towers, To keep watch above the flowers, In the midst of which all day The red sun-light lazily lay. Now each visitor shall confess The sad valley's restlessness. Nothing there is motionless -Nothing save the airs that brood Over the magic solitude. Ah, by no wind are stirred those trees That palpitate like the chill seas Around the misty Hebrides! Ah, by no wind those clouds are driven That rustle through the unquiet Heaven Uneasily, from morn till even, Over the violets there that lie In myriad types of the human eye -Over the lilies there that wave And weep above a nameless grave! They wave: -- from out their fragrant tops Eternal dews come down in drops. They weep: -- from off their delicate stems Perennial tears descend in gems.

KEEP READING TO FIND OUT......

¤

Wow★That’s★Funny!?

Little Johnny attended a horse auction with his father. He watched as his father moved from horse to horse, running his hands up and down the horse's legs and rump, and chest. After a few minutes, Johnny asked, 'Dad, why are you doing that?' His father replied, 'Because when I'm buying horses, I have to make sure that they are healthy and in good shape before I buy. Johnny, looking worried, said, 'Dad, I think the UPS guy wants to buy Mom .'

Pictures Worth a thousand Words:
Come up with a story to match the picture below! Keep it under a thousand words and submit it to pfm@novalpublishing.com! The most interesting stories would be posted in the nest issue! Wanna submit a funny picture? Send your unbelievable pictures to pfm@novalpublishing.com!

Pictures Worth a thousand Words:
Come up with a story to match the picture below! Keep it under a thousand words and submit it to pfm@novalpublishing.com! The most interesting stories would be posted in the nest issue! Wanna submit a funny picture? Send your unbelievable pictures to pfm@novalpublishing.com!

After the press from Kirstie Alley, the family business, Phat Phuc Noodle Bar quickly became a favorite get away. Following a hard days work a businessman decided to treat himself to dinner and a few drinks, then decided to have a little fun with the owners. "How are you Phat Phucs doing today?" he asked the owners. "So tell me how many Phat Phucs did it take to make this place famous?" Just as he finished his sentence the couple began hisyterially laughing. Confused he paid his bill and left the restaurant. "Why are you two laughing?" their son asked. "Did you see the name on his coat?" his mother asked. But before he could answer his father jumped in quickly. "His name is Harry Cox!"

Pictures Worth a thousand Words:
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Next Month:

Type to enter text

B.elievable S.tories ...

Submit B.elievable S.tories E-mail PFM@novalpublishing.com with B.S in the topic. Don’t forget to include your proof!

The Author of the Story Claims it to be the truth! Do you believe this story? Type B in the Comments Box for Believe and S in the Comment Box if you think the author is a liar! Be sure to give your reason! We’ll reveal at the end of the month if the author claims their story is true, or just something they made up! We’ll reveal in the next issue the truth!

!! terrible diet and a room with no ventilation are being blamed for the death of a man who was killed by his own gas. !!! There was no mark on his body, but an autopsy showed large amounts of methane gas in his system, police said. His diet had consisted primarily of beans and cabbage (and a couple of other things).! !!! It appears that the man died in his sleep from breathing from the poisonous cloud that was hanging over his bed, police said. Had he been outside or had his windows been opened, it wouldn't have been fatal. But the man was shut up in his near-airtight bedroom.! !!! He was “a big man with a huge capacity for creating[this deadly gas],” a police representative said.! !!! Three of the rescuers got sick and one was hospitalized.!

A

W T A
ho’s

To The River
by

hat

u!or?

Edgar Allan Poe

(published 1829)

!! Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow !!! Of crystal, wandering water, Thou art an emblem of the glow !!!!!! Of beauty -- the unhidden heart -!!!!!! The playful maziness of art In old Alberto's daughter;

But when within thy wave she looks -!!!!!! Which glistens then, and trembles -Why, then, the prettiest of brooks !!!!!! Her worshipper resembles; For in my heart, as in thy stream, !!! Her image deeply lies -The heart which trembles at the beam !!! Of her soul-searching eyes.

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