One fine August morning Rob Turner was aimlessly staggering out of a club after 10 straight hours of dancing his ass off to pounding house music from the decks of one Danny Howells. Turner was so disoriented that the intensity of the 10 AM sun surprised him and caused him to fall to his knees in the middle of a large puddle. The spray of his descent spattered across the chique red stilletos of a posh young woman casually opening the door to her stretch limo. The woman turned, and seeing a scruffy, unshaven heap of humanity at her feet, sneered and threw down some loose change. Turner, aware only enough to realize a handout when he saw it, choked on the bile in his throat leftover from a rough period in dirty bathroom stall, and sputtered, "how dare you?" The woman, abhorrent that this putrescent being could be so insolent, kicked him squarely in the face, got in her car, and signalled to the driver to leave at once. Turner, now completely dazed and confused, rose to his feet, and, realizing the time, passed out in the puddle.

When he came to, he was no longer on the sidewalk, but huddle in the corner between a chainlink fence and a dumpster, spooning a homeless man that he strongly suspected, judging from the stench, was dead. Confirming his suspicion, Turner rose to his feet, and surveying the situation, saw the limousine from that morning parked at the end of the alleyway. In somewhat more firm possession of his faculties, Turner began moving toward the limo, in the hopes of securing a good look at his tormentor. Soon the woman came into focus, standing underneath a streetlight in a scandalous cocktail dress that seemed to radiate as brightly as the sun itself. At that moment, Turner knew he loved her.

Before he could reach to her and call out, the woman disappeared into a crowd hastily pushing forward into his favorite club. Turner couldn't remember who was spinning that evening, but it no longer mattered. For this woman, he would withstand even LORD OF BASS in the hopes of getting one more glimpse of her beauty. He pushed his way through the VIP line as people peeled away in horror. Turner was exuberant; he was going to get in without a ticket! Then a giant brick of a man loomed into view, and with one fell sweep, blackness replaced light, and Turner awoke once again in the alleyway. Only this time, he was completely inside the dumpster. Not to be denied, Turner made the decision to labor on to win the hand of his fair maiden. Quickly making the decision to sacrifice even his own personal dignity, Turner leapt to his feet, and quickly removed the grill covering a nearby sewer. He climbed in, and soon had traversed a narrow passageway leading to the very bathroom he had spent such intimate time with the evening before. As his hands brushed aside bile he was sure must be his own, he revealed a secret access door used by plumbers to unclog drains destroyed by coked-out drug runners puking up their wrapped packages.

Turner quickly climbed through the door, and within seconds he was back on the dance floor. Some women shrieked, but Turner paid them no attention. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before he was thrown out once again. For a brief moment he had the clairvoyance to realize his life might be at risk. But then all hesitation vanished. He saw her, dancing happily with some jerk. He pushed his way through the crowd, and, reaching her, grabbed her ass. She punched him.

Turner woke up in a jail cell the next morning, naked and hairless. He no longer stunk of bile and urine, a product, no doubt, of the delousing he had received while unconscious. He remained there, without even a chance to make a phone call, for 24 hours, before the guards dragged him by his arm before a judge. As the judge revealed the details of the sexual harrassment case about to be brought before him, the court doors opened and in walked the woman of Turner's dreams. "Myra Romano," the judge boomed, "how nice of you to make it. This, I believe, is the creep that felt you up?" Ms. Romano looked Turner up and down, and ignoring his pleading eyes, announced that he was indeed. Though Turner's fortune had taken a turn for the worse, his mind was lost in wonder. To him, when she spoke it was as if angels had issued forth a heavenly chorus even more beautiful than the vocals in the Arcadia remix of Tiesto's 'Fly'. His life would only be complete if he could summon all of his resolve to speak his heart to her.

"Myra Romano!" Turner bellowed, to the surprise of all inside the court. "I think I love you!" Astonished, the courtroom was completely silent. Murmors soon issued forth, before Ms. Romano stood up, walked over, and looked Turner straight in the eye. "Love is such a powerful word. What makes you so sure of your heart?"

Turner was beside himself; he could scarcely speak a word. "Why, I know not why I am sure. All I know is that I am." Truer words had never been spoken, and like in all times when absolute truth is revealed, evil and doubt retreat, exposing the depths of human emotion. Romano's heart crumbled, just a little bit, at the honesty and humility at her feet. Here was this wretched man, cast aside by society and good fortune, who held on to the only thing he had left in this world: his love for her, and his hope that she may one day return it.

"Your honor," Romano sighed, barely holding back her tears, "please let this man go. He has done no wrong by me, and I forgive him his wretched state."

With that, she turned, and burying her nose in her hankie, rushed forth from the chamber. The judge turned to the bailiff, and whispering a terse command, signalled that Turner could freely take leave. Turner, amazed at the turn of events, bolted for the door, eager to overtake Romano before she disappeared forever. He arrived at the steps of the courthouse just as her limo appeared. As she opened the door to get in, he shouted out to her. Her brief hesitation did her in; he was upon her. As she whirled to meet him, he quickly placed one finger on her lips. No words, he signalled.

They stared into one another's eyes for an eternity, each saying more than ever could be said verbally. In that moment, Turner knew his undying passion was returned. They parted ways only after the promise of a rendezvous the next day. That night, Turner returned home, and after six straight hours, had created a perfect mix in her honor. Unbeknownst to him, Romano had suffered a bout of insomnia herself, and had put together the most amazing dj set in her life for him. The next day, when they met for dinner at a local McDonald's -- after all, Turner was dirt-poor but still old-fashioned -- they exchanged gifts, and in that moment, history had been sealed. Turner and Romano were created: a team that would change the DJ world and come to be known as the most powerful duo of all-time. Sasha & Digweed; Clovsha & Basweed; Bonnie & Clyde; Tom & Jerry; none would ever garner the commercial success to be achieved by Turner and Romano. Romano and Turner consummated their partnership with a passionate session of butth4x -- the first time Romano had ever allowed that on a first date. The rest, my friends, is history.







Too long?

___________________

Please tell me you didnt write all that.

quote:

Originally posted by Lebezniatnikov One fine August morning Rob Turner was aimlessly staggering out of a club after 10 straight hours of dancing his ass off to pounding house music from the decks of one Danny Howells. Turner was so disoriented that the intensity of the 10 AM sun surprised him and caused him to fall to his knees in the middle of a large puddle. The spray of his descent spattered across the chique red stilletos of a posh young woman casually opening the door to her stretch limo. The woman turned, and seeing a scruffy, unshaven heap of humanity at her feet, sneered and threw down some loose change. Turner, aware only enough to realize a handout when he saw it, choked on the bile in his throat leftover from a rough period in dirty bathroom stall, and sputtered, "how dare you?" The woman, abhorrent that this putrescent being could be so insolent, kicked him squarely in the face, got in her car, and signalled to the driver to leave at once. Turner, now completely dazed and confused, rose to his feet, and, realizing the time, passed out in the puddle. When he came to, he was no longer on the sidewalk, but huddle in the corner between a chainlink fence and a dumpster, spooning a homeless man that he strongly suspected, judging from the stench, was dead. Confirming his suspicion, Turner rose to his feet, and surveying the situation, saw the limousine from that morning parked at the end of the alleyway. In somewhat more firm possession of his faculties, Turner began moving toward the limo, in the hopes of securing a good look at his tormentor. Soon the woman came into focus, standing underneath a streetlight in a scandalous cocktail dress that seemed to radiate as brightly as the sun itself. At that moment, Turner knew he loved her. Before he could reach to her and call out, the woman disappeared into a crowd hastily pushing forward into his favorite club. Turner couldn't remember who was spinning that evening, but it no longer mattered. For this woman, he would withstand even LORD OF BASS in the hopes of getting one more glimpse of her beauty. He pushed his way through the VIP line as people peeled away in horror. Turner was exuberant; he was going to get in without a ticket! Then a giant brick of a man loomed into view, and with one fell sweep, blackness replaced light, and Turner awoke once again in the alleyway. Only this time, he was completely inside the dumpster. Not to be denied, Turner made the decision to labor on to win the hand of his fair maiden. Quickly making the decision to sacrifice even his own personal dignity, Turner leapt to his feet, and quickly removed the grill covering a nearby sewer. He climbed in, and soon had traversed a narrow passageway leading to the very bathroom he had spent such intimate time with the evening before. As his hands brushed aside bile he was sure must be his own, he revealed a secret access door used by plumbers to unclog drains destroyed by coked-out drug runners puking up their wrapped packages. Turner quickly climbed through the door, and within seconds he was back on the dance floor. Some women shrieked, but Turner paid them no attention. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before he was thrown out once again. For a brief moment he had the clairvoyance to realize his life might be at risk. But then all hesitation vanished. He saw her, dancing happily with some jerk. He pushed his way through the crowd, and, reaching her, grabbed her ass. She punched him. Turner woke up in a jail cell the next morning, naked and hairless. He no longer stunk of bile and urine, a product, no doubt, of the delousing he had received while unconscious. He remained there, without even a chance to make a phone call, for 24 hours, before the guards dragged him by his arm before a judge. As the judge revealed the details of the sexual harrassment case about to be brought before him, the court doors opened and in walked the woman of Turner's dreams. "Myra Romano," the judge boomed, "how nice of you to make it. This, I believe, is the creep that felt you up?" Ms. Romano looked Turner up and down, and ignoring his pleading eyes, announced that he was indeed. Though Turner's fortune had taken a turn for the worse, his mind was lost in wonder. To him, when she spoke it was as if angels had issued forth a heavenly chorus even more beautiful than the vocals in the Arcadia remix of Tiesto's 'Fly'. His life would only be complete if he could summon all of his resolve to speak his heart to her. "Myra Romano!" Turner bellowed, to the surprise of all inside the court. "I think I love you!" Astonished, the courtroom was completely silent. Murmors soon issued forth, before Ms. Romano stood up, walked over, and looked Turner straight in the eye. "Love is such a powerful word. What makes you so sure of your heart?" Turner was beside himself; he could scarcely speak a word. "Why, I know not why I am sure. All I know is that I am." Truer words had never been spoken, and like in all times when absolute truth is revealed, evil and doubt retreat, exposing the depths of human emotion. Romano's heart crumbled, just a little bit, at the honesty and humility at her feet. Here was this wretched man, cast aside by society and good fortune, who held on to the only thing he had left in this world: his love for her, and his hope that she may one day return it. "Your honor," Romano sighed, barely holding back her tears, "please let this man go. He has done no wrong by me, and I forgive him his wretched state." With that, she turned, and burying her nose in her hankie, rushed forth from the chamber. The judge turned to the bailiff, and whispering a terse command, signalled that Turner could freely take leave. Turner, amazed at the turn of events, bolted for the door, eager to overtake Romano before she disappeared forever. He arrived at the steps of the courthouse just as her limo appeared. As she opened the door to get in, he shouted out to her. Her brief hesitation did her in; he was upon her. As she whirled to meet him, he quickly placed one finger on her lips. No words, he signalled. They stared into one another's eyes for an eternity, each saying more than ever could be said verbally. In that moment, Turner knew his undying passion was returned. They parted ways only after the promise of a rendezvous the next day. That night, Turner returned home, and after six straight hours, had created a perfect mix in her honor. Unbeknownst to him, Romano had suffered a bout of insomnia herself, and had put together the most amazing dj set in her life for him. The next day, when they met for dinner at a local McDonald's -- after all, Turner was dirt-poor but still old-fashioned -- they exchanged gifts, and in that moment, history had been sealed. Turner and Romano were created: a team that would change the DJ world and come to be known as the most powerful duo of all-time. Sasha & Digweed; Clovsha & Basweed; Bonnie & Clyde; Tom & Jerry; none would ever garner the commercial success to be achieved by Turner and Romano. Romano and Turner consummated their partnership with a passionate session of butth4x -- the first time Romano had ever allowed that on a first date. The rest, my friends, is history. Too long?

U got an A+!

quote:

Originally posted by Sunsnail Please tell me you didnt write all that.

Once again, anything to avoid writing what I'm supposed to be

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Damn, whenever I don't want to write something I usually just go to sleep, not write something else

btw, core version?

quote:

Originally posted by Lebezniatnikov Too long?

dude! omg!

*copy + paste + SAVED*

the weird thing is, that's pretty close to the real story of how we fell in love... minus the limos and bile and stilettos and spare change and court orders.

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+ + + AMBROSIA
lovebirds tracklist archive | vincenzo tracklist archive

quote:

Originally posted by Sunsnail btw, core version?

quote:

Originally posted by lücid limos and bile and stilettos and spare change and court orders.

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