[doHTML]<div style="width:320px; padding:25px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/20qjskl.jpg);"><div style="font-family:courier new; font-size:27px; color:5d5643; padding-bottom:4px;">i'm your lionheart</div><div style="font-family:arial; font-size:8px; color:ac8861; padding-bottom:1px; letter-spacing:-.6px; font-weight:bold; text-transform:uppercase;">And as the world comes to an end
I'll be here to hold your hand</div><div style="Width:230px; padding-bottom:2px; text-align:justify; font-family:trebuchet ms; font-size:7px; font-weight:bold; color:2d261c; line-height:7px; text-transform:uppercase;">Taking over this town, they should worry,
But these problems aside I think I taught you well.
That we won't run, and we won't run, and we won't run.
And in the winter night sky ships are sailing,
Looking down on these bright blue city lights.
And they won't wait, and they won't wait, and they won't wait.
We're here to stay, we're here to stay, we're here to stay.-----------------------------------------------
</div><div style="width:284px; height:250px; background-image:url(http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbesbsrqZw1qfnizi.png);"></div><br><div style="width:310px; background-color:5d5643; font-family:trebuchet ms; font-size:9px; color:eaeaea; padding:5px 5px 5px 5px;">NOTES:
C: / WORDS:
0589</div><br><div style="width:285px; text-align:justify; font-family:georgia; font-size:9px; line-height:8px; color:5d5643;">
working at a butcher's was not the most glamorous job in the world. in fact, it was probably one of the worst. every day came with blood covered aprons and clothes, new bruises from pigs on hooks accidentally swinging into you, and sore muscles. if one were to look deeper, there was a moral and emotional pressure that was on most people. most
people. while all of the physical stress was on one joel ballard, barely any of the emotional pressure weighed him down in any way. he had been working too long in this field to feel any remorse for these pigs, cattle or chickens. it was a job that needed to be done and he was one of the few who could do it without puking or feeling like a horrible human being. <p>
well, mostly because he already was a horrible human being. so, that remorse had been with him for years already and he'd gotten used to it.<p>
but, joel was not completely heartless. while he did kill pigs, cattle and chickens, he did not usually treat them badly. he supposed it was his way of making up for the fact that their lives were cut short for other people to kill them. or, he just liked animals in general. it was probably more of the second but--well, who knew? <p>
in any case, he spent a lot of time, when he wasn't actually working at the store front, back in the holding pens. being on the outskirts of chelsea had its perks. one of those perks being the amount of space he could put for his farm. he had about an acre of land out back with a barn closest to the store front. the wide field was mostly for the cattle, and the barn had a chicken coop attached to it. while it wasn't a huge farm by any means, it was large enough for him to keep the animals happy and for him to work and live comfortably. <P>
currently, he stood out at the barn, watching at the cattle grazed idly in the fields. smoke curled from the cigarette in his hand and his eyes watched as the large animals shuffled from grass patch to grass patch, munching like there wasn't a care in the world. it was times like these that he wished that he was an animal of some kind. perhaps not a cow. maybe a dog or a cat. well, maybe not those either, considering all the strays he saw walking around. but some kind of well-taken-care-of animal, just so he didn't have to worry about all of this rebel
stuff. but, alas, he was human and he needed to care about this rebel stuff. he did enjoy the brunt of it so he really shouldn't be complaining (even silently), but he was also human and humans never seemed to be satisfied. <p>
after a bit of watching the cows, he snuffed his cigarette out and headed into the field further, walking up to one of the newest cows who was heavily pregnant and pressing a hand on her spine, stroking down her back slowly. the cow seemed to groan and he grinned a little bit, secretly. he did enjoy being around these animals. it was one of the very few things he actually enjoyed anymore. so, he relished in the feeling of the cow's wiry coat and listening to her seemingly talking with another cow as he did so. it was... peaceful. <p>
and god knows that joel ballard needed peaceful sometimes.
</div><br><div style="width:200px; background-color:ac8861; font-size:7px; font-family:trebuchet ms; padding:5px; color:eaeaea;">CODE BY NICK AT ATF