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Failed tormentation attempt #1[ Comments and Leya Tormentation Stories ] [ FAQ ] Posted by D on 15:24:57, PDT 12/06/2005 Although I am filled with an abundance of ways on how to torment this young "British" lass, I must confess that I am struggling with the most important part of a succsessfull tormentation: I can not identify her! Please listen to my sad story if you will. After reading part 1 of this web site, I decided that my best bet in finding her would be to yell her name loudly from the top of my lungs. So naturaly, I had to decide where the best place to do this would be. I figured that with a name like Lea, she must not be very creative. This led me to believe that there is no chance this beautiful young lady is skilled in the area of the arts. I mean, there is no chance she could possibly be writing the most amazing poetry the world has ever laid ears on, or that the words birthed from the chasm of her pure and passionate heart could cut to the quick of any hurting lost soul who read them. Something this divine could not posssibly be fasioned from a girl named Layla. But fear not faithful readers, this did not stop me from my quest. I concluded as well, that any musical ability was surely drained from this womans soul. No way could the wind from her horn sound so sweet, as to make the heavens weep. I pondered for a second more and than a revalation sent from above was revealed to from up above in the form of a revalation (you get the idea). A girl with such a lack of amazing passion and creativeity could only be found in one place.... Walmart. I quickly drove like a stead of wild horses to the nearest walmart, jupmed out of my car (once I was safely parked of course. I did however forget to undo my seatbelt, which left quite a mark and to this day is a little sore) and started to scream Lea, Leah, where art though!? Sadly I was met only by the strange looks of those returing to their automobiles and mothers bringing their children closer as if I was I unsafe to be around. I walked round back of the massive building that is walmart and my heart stopped. My jaw dropped. 'Could this be the moment,' I thought to myself; the moment where my journey ends and my life finaly can began. There, far off in the dumpster I saw some movement as if the garbage itself was breathing a beautiful and peaceful breath. I ran. Once at the rim of this great blue box I stood on the tips of my toes and peeked my curious (and really bored) head inside and said with a gentle whisper, "Layla, is that you?" No sooner than the words escaped my lips did an empty bottle of Jim Beam swat my across the face. I fell to the ground. A homeless man jumped out of what a had now become my box of shattered dreams and leaning over my helpless body said to me,"money grows on trees just like bannanas." He then turned and stumbled away in a drunken stooper. I was left laying there in a puddle of tears and really gross homeless guy breath pondering what he had said. Although enlightened by the truth he had spoken into my life, I was left heartbroken on my failed attempt to identify and torment Leah. Not because she is worthy of tormentation mind you, but because I am myself am so not worthy. So brothers, sisters, I beg of you. How do I find the woman in which this website is named. With out your help I will only go on searching with more failed atempts to share with you. I know you don't want that do you?
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