wasn't like he'd planned to; during the early part of the battle Sauron stayed home, presumably to watch the soaps. Unfortunately for him, those pesky Elves and Men showed up on the doorstep of the Barad-dur and refused to go away: "...Gil-galad and Elendil passed into Mordor and encompassed the stronghold of Sauron; and they laid siege to it for seven
progress has achieved wonderful things, too. Paving. Asphalt. Smog. Car alarms that wake you up in the middle of the fucking night. Carcinogenic food. The Exxon Valdez. That stereo in the apartment upstairs. Hydrogen bombs. Hormone-injected meat. Artificial coloring. Alarm clocks (and a society so dependent on measured time that we need alarm clocks). Television, and a society that has replaced "How can we improve the human condition?" with "Hey, did'ja see the Simpsons last night? Huh huh". An Internet where people like us can waste away their free time instead of going out and having a life. Yeah! Progress! I love it! Get me the genetic splicing kit! I want to make a new kind of trout!
Lord blessed the latter part of Job's life more than the first. He had fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, a thousand yoke of oxen, and a thousand donkeys. And he also had several sons and three daughters. The first daughter was named Dove, the second Cinnamon and the third Eyeshadow Kit. Nowhere in all the land were there found women as beautiful as
Harry's capitalization pool was starting to roll over. He knew there was fallout risk. With a quick glance at Ron and Hermione he added a short hedge of soft dollars and stirred in some FASB No. 8. But this was a mistake; the market began churning, and his small-issues exemption began to smoke. He started trying to write down the value when he felt, rather than heard, Snape gliding up from behind. His variance was harsher, less ironic, than usual. "So, Potter," he sneered. "That's your solution? When someone takes a poison pill, you can't always just shove a BARRA analysis down their throat, you know. If this had been a volatile market you'd be in Askaban for having violated Glass-Steagall." Snape looked down his nose at him, his equity balanced. "You're just like your father: arrogant, always at unsystematic risk, overextended, overbought and underfinanced."
This was too much. "My father was not overextended!" Harry shouted, jumping from his stool, portfolio in hand