Some trees moved.

[Guenwhyever]

To start, http://bunnibunni.com/view.php?user_id=80082

I was playing on kongregate, saved my game, came to bunnibunni.com, loaded game, saw trees were moved (about a tree's width to the right)!

Screeny. (http://www.picamatic.com/show/2009/07/18/06/20/4482269_677x510.JPG)

At the time there were only two trees in each row, I took advantage of the bug and put more trees there :P
It looks like the only things to be moved was those four trees.

[rosedragon]

bug noted :) .

[kuzvvyvdi]

这是一个真实的故事，从网上看到，我被女孩的行为感动了，所以才转到我的空间来。是男孩就一定必须要看，只 用你几分钟的时间，看完后要深深的思考“责任”这两个字，记住你们对女孩说过的话，要对你们说的话负责！女 孩看后不要哭!
走出赛区，看见大门口蹲坐着一个熟悉的身影，走过去看是诺儿。我拍拍她，她显然吓了一跳，见是我，舒了一口 气，把一个保温饭煲递到我手里。我接过后，她慌忙把手藏到身后，可是我还是看见她手上被烫的水 泡。
盒里的饭有点凉了，我问她：“等很久了吧？”
“对啊，你手机关掉了。”她噘着嘴。
“不是告诉你不要来嘛。来，让我抱抱，累了吧？”我有点心疼。
“我不来你又饿肚子，你一点都不乖，还挑食。”
我吃着盒里的饭，诺儿坐在我身边，紧张地问：“好吃吗？好吃吗？”我大口大口的扒着饭，说实话，挺难吃的， 可是我能想象得出这个连袜子都不会洗的女孩是怎样笨手笨脚地为我做第一顿饭。心中是久违了的感动。我笑着说 ：“当然好吃了，你看我不是全部都吃光了吗？”
诺儿听了一脸满足地笑着，站起来就走。
“诺儿你去哪儿啊？”我问她。
“回家呗。“
“别急，我带你去一个地方。”我把她领进赛区，我从没领女孩儿见过朋友，更别说是赛区。队友们见到诺儿都好 奇极了，“小嫂子、小嫂子”地叫着，弄得她脸蛋都通红的，队友们都跑来跟我打趣，我心里明白，我是真的爱上 她了。
QQ上，我问她，“诺儿，你嫁给我好吗？”
她还是呵呵地傻笑，痛快的说：“好啊。以前别人说什么要娶我，我觉得特恐怖，但是我现在突然想 嫁人了。”
嗯，诺儿，相信我，等我攒够钱让你做最风光的新娘，我们就结婚。
虽然我们队没有拿到第一，但对于我们这支刚组成不久的队伍来说，全省第二的成绩已经是非常好的了，所以我决 定继续努力，非打第一不可。
CS的比赛越来越多，我也越来越忙，我忘了多久没想过诺儿了，我总是比赛到很晚，偶尔在QQ上看到她，她也 总是很沉默，我不知道她怎么了。现在想起来，才知道是自己不对，因为我从来没有关心过她是不是开心，过得好 不好。
一天， 她说：“你能陪我说会话吗？”
我说：“不行啊，我现在在联系比赛正在等电话。而且马上要开赛了。”
“就一会儿也不行吗？”
“诺儿乖。”
“CS对你来说真的很重要吗？”
“是。”
“那我呢？难道我就一点不重要吗？”
“也重要。”
“那我和ＧS哪个更重要呢？”
“CS。”我没有骗她。

很久，她的QQ头像都没有再晃动。
几天后，我看到她给我的留言：“我不知道能不能等到自己比GS更重要的那一天了，以后你要照顾好自己．．． ．．．”我觉得她像是在说傻话，没看完就关了QQ。
几个月后，打完CS回到家已经是精疲力竭了，倒在床上一动不想动。这时手机响起来，我不想接，可它却响个没 完没了。我一看是诺儿的号，就没好气地接起来说：“不是叫你这几天别打电话给我吗？你不知道我 有多累……”
电话那一端传来一阵怒吼：“……你他妈的还算不算是男人啊？”
不是诺儿,最新开网通传奇私服 (http://www.bjmtc168.com/)，我一愣，“你谁呀你？”
“你甭管我是谁，明天诺儿出殡，你要是也算个男人，就来看她最后一眼。”
诺儿？出殡？什么跟什么呀？我还想再问下，电话戛然挂断。
忽然一股恐怖感占据了我，我拼命的回拨，很久才有人接起来，是个很苍老的声音，“你找……”
“诺儿呢？”
“她……不在了……”声音里明显带着哭腔。
我的脑袋轰的一下，难道，诺儿她真的出事了？
哪天，我看见诺儿被他们抬了出来，她脸上还带着微笑，可天使般的微笑再也泛不出光晕了，诺儿的朋友看我的眼 神分明是仇视的，恨不得吃了我。诺儿的妈妈告诉我,传奇世界私服发布 (http://www.wenandz.com/)，诺儿有血小板减少症，家里人什么都不让她做，生怕她不小心弄破了手指或是什么地方，血流不止。原以为治 好了，可后来不知怎的，血小板又突然下降，心脏功能也开始衰竭。前几天她突然精神很好，我们都明白那意味着 什么，她说她想听听你的声音，打电话给你，可是关机，她说你一定在比赛呢。有人说去找你，可诺儿不让，她说 比赛对你很重要，她怕你生气，说着说着自己就哭了，我们也都跟着哭，她说肯定有一天你会明白，她比CS重要 ，可她等不到了……诺儿妈妈有抹起眼泪来。 我好几天没打CS了，呆呆地看着诺儿的QQ形象，自从诺儿走了以后，我整个人好像被抽走了力量。身和心都特 别疲惫。
我打开诺儿的QQ才知道，里面只有我一个人的号。
我注意到她的资料里有一个网址，打开是个心情驿站，有各种各样的故事，其中有篇文章的署名是诺 儿。
“不敢想象，我就那么无可救药地爱上了他。我喜欢他的温柔，也喜欢他假装凶巴巴的样子，我想如果有一天他向 我求婚，我一定会嫁给他。
我最近很不开心，我喜欢听他说话，可他却连话都不愿意和我说了，因为他很忙，他要打CS。他再也不叫我小傻 瓜了，他从没说过爱我，也没送过花给我，可我还是喜欢他。
有一天我告诉他江边涨水了,私服魔域刷魔点外挂 (http://www.qq168.net/)，他说以后陪我看，我很高兴。有一天我看见一只很可爱的小狗，他答应我，我们以后也会有一只，也叫诺儿， 我很高兴。他说过几天陪我去看电影，放风筝，我特别开心，虽然这些都还没有实现,新开传奇sf (http://www.needghd.com/)，我相信总有一天会的。但我恐怕等不了那么久了。
他说CS比我重要，我没生气，因为这是实话，可是我很伤心，所以我偷偷地哭了。我想我还不够坚强，我做的还 不够好，医生说我过不到下一个生日了，也就是*月*日，他还不知道我的生日呢！不过这也没关系 。
我又虚弱了，刚打了几个字就很累，真的很没用。
我知道他有很多女朋友，这样也好，我走了，他不会伤心 ，虽然我是那样想嫁给他，我一直盼他送我玫瑰，哪怕只一支，以前有很多人送我，可我没收，因为那代表爱情， 我想我可能等不到他送我的那一天了，所以我偷偷买了一朵送给自己，我想我写什么他永远都看不见了，所以我可 以随心所欲地敲打文字，我刚才打电话给他，但他关机了。那个讨厌的声音一直重复‘对不起，您拨打的电话已关 机’。我好想，真的好想再和他说说话，哪怕就一分钟，听听他的声音也好，我们好久都没见面了，我每天都好想 他。真没出息，又哭了，唉，其实我真的好放心不下他，他玩游戏时间长了眼睛会疼，我买了眼药水却没法给他， 还有，他挑食……”
文章没有写完，想是她累了，结尾有一个flash，我点击Play，优雅的声音在空空的房间里 回荡。
“静静地陪你走了好远好远/连眼睛红了都没有发现/听着你说你现在的改变/看着我依然最在你的笑脸/这条旧路依然没有改变/以往的每次路过都是晴天/想起我们有过的从前/泪水就一点点开始蔓延……每当我闭起眼/我总是看见/你的诺言全部都会实现/我亲过你的脸/你已经不在我身边/我还是祝福你过的好一点/断开的情线/我不要做断点/只想杂睡前听见你的蜜语甜言……”
Flash制作得有点粗糙，可我那憋了很久的眼泪还是滴了下来，画面的结尾还有一行行的小字。
“想听你说爱我，一声也好；
想接受你送的玫瑰，一朵也好；
想再多点时间爱你，哪怕只一秒；
可是现在，我的手都已经好颤抖，好想再见你一面。”
我一个人做在漆黑的房间里，终于大哭起来，我就那样错过了你，我最爱的女人，还来不及宠你，还来不及实现诺 言，还来不及让你做我最美丽的新娘。
该死的CS，我连你最后一面都没见上，我真该死。
是的，我终于明白了你是最重要的，可惜你不能在等我了。
今年清明没下雨，我放弃了CS，做了白领，我一定会要你做我最风光的新娘。
“生日快乐，小傻瓜。”
每日礼拜我都会来这里，我只想和你说说话，纯白饿墓碑宛如你的纯洁。微风像你的发丝轻佛过我的脸，想念我那 依然最爱的你的笑脸。
朋友、家人都惊讶于我的改变，我不抽烟了，不打CS了，不上网了，养了一只和你一样可爱的小狗，像当初我们 说好的那样，叫它诺儿，我只想再和你说说话，再送你最美的玫瑰。
诺儿，我爱你。 请看过的每个人，都转载到自己的日志里，不要等到身边爱你的人失去啦，才知道珍惜！

[dl552lfk77]

Love Is Just a Word

ooo

JAY

When I woke up, the sun was already over the horizon, though just barely. A cool breeze swept by my face, but the rest of me was warm inside of the sleeping bag. I yawned and noticed with happiness, Wyatt’s white-blonde-haired head close to me. His breath tickled my neck as he inhaled and exhaled, still asleep.

A smile fell across my face as I reached up with one hand and gently began to brush my fingers through his hair. It was so perfect, that moment. I wished that it could be like this forever.

After a while, I finally felt him stir and slowly open his eyes, a dazed look inside of them as he looked up at me.

My heart sped up. Wyatt looked adorable whenever he was just waking up—well, more than he usually did. “Morning,solid wooden doors (http://www.solidwoodendoors.org/), bunny.” I greeted him.

“Did I hear you say ‘bunny’?” He asked, puzzled.

“Yes, I just said ‘bunny’,” I replied.

“Why?” He blinked and then closed his eyes.

“I was giving it a try, but it doesn’t really sound as good as ‘honey’ or ‘sweetie’,” I started. “People use ‘chick’ all the time, but that’s only for girls, so I was trying to think up a male equivalent, but ‘duck’ was still too weird and then ‘bunny’ popped up in my mind.”

“You’re so amusing,” he said.

I ran my fingers over his hair again. “And you’re so genuine.” I paused. “We play the complimenting game a lot. Is there anything you hate about me? Any flaws that just make you want to smash your truck into a tree?”
He thought about it. “Nope.”

“Come on. Not even one thing?”

“Well… Oh, I have one.” Wyatt opened his eyes; the hazel color of them looking deep down into me.

My breath caught in my throat, surprise hitting me in one hit. What would it be? What does he hate about me? Nervousness bubbled up before I remembered that this was Wyatt and flushed it back down, feeling incredibly stupid. “What is it?” I asked, a bit quietly.

“The way you feel the need to put all our burdens on yourself,” he said. “I wouldn’t necessarily say I hate it, but I don’t like that you do that. You shouldn’t be the only one to feel the need to solve the problems. I’m always here, too.”

I shifted my gaze, unable to help but feel a bit ashamed of myself.

“Hey now, but that’s a part of who you are. It shows that you’re a good person with a conscience.” Wyatt started. “I’m sorry if what I said was offensive.”

“I did ask and I appreciate your honesty,” I told him. “But…” I stop, not knowing what I actually wanted to say after that.

“Let’s make it even. What do you dislike about me?” He asked.

Nothing came to mind when it occurred to his personality. Finally, I decided on, “That you aren’t always near me.”

“It’s the times when we’re apart that makes us stronger,” he said, smiling. “And keeps our love strong.”

I opened my mouth to say something to that, when a ringtone rung through the air, so I ended up saying, “I think that’s your phone” instead.

Wyatt sat up. “Yeah, it is.” He reached around and finally found his phone.

“I haven’t gotten my morning kiss yet,” I said before he flipped it open. “Kiss me first.”

He pressed a kiss against my lips before answering, “Hello?”

I blinked up at the blue sky, wondering what it felt like if it could be touched, as I waited for him to finish his conversation.

“Yeah, I’m with Jay.” “Eleven?” “I’m not sure. I’ll call you back later.” “Oh. Bye.” He closed it.

“Who was that?” I asked, praying that it wasn’t Mrs. Vanern and then feeling guilty about it and then remembering Wyatt’s opinion on my conscience.

“Doug,” he replied.

“Oh,” I felt relieved at that and tried not to feel bad about it. “I like Doug. He still stuck around after all this.”

“We have known each other since 3rd grade,” Wyatt said. “I guess that’s long enough for people to stick around even despite other relationships.”

That’s nine years! I couldn’t help but feel jealous. “What did he want?”

“He wants me to hang out with him since I barely ever do nowadays,” he said.

“Just the two of you?” I asked.

Looking bad about it, he nodded.

“That’s cool. I have homework”—I winced—“a lot of homework to do anyways.”

“We can go somewhere for dinner,” Wyatt suggested.

I nodded, smiling at him. “Sounds good.”

ooo

WYATT

After dropping Jay off at his house, I drove over to Doug’s place.

He was sitting on the steps that led up to the front porch, still in his Blue Clues pajama pants and a dark button-up shirt. Doug wears the weirdest things to bed, but I guess it doesn’t really matter because people rarely see you in your PJs anyways.

I left my truck in the driveway. If there was a spot available, then I could always feel free to park in it—was what Doug’s dad, Mr. Trumen, had told me.

“Yo,” Doug called out to me.

I caught sight of the cigarette in the hand that he had quickly lowered out of sight. “Smoking again?”

“I’ve been smoking since seventh grade,” he said. “And I’ve told you: I only smoke when I’m stressed.”
“That doesn’t mean that you’re not addicted,” I said.

“I’m not addicted,” he said, glaring at me. “I haven’t smoked a cigarette ever since you started dating Jay—and that’s been…what, almost a year now?”

“Then why are you smoking now?” I asked, confused.

He held up the cigarette to his mouth and took another drag. “I’m not telling you right now,” he said, letting a visible cloud of smoke out from his mouth.

“Fine then,” I headed up the steps and opened the door. “I’ll wait inside then. You know I hate the smell of that.”

“You know you’re just envious!” He yelled as I closed the door.

I looked around the house, as familiar to me as my own home: The stairs that led up to the second floor in front, the living room and kitchen to the right, and Mr. Trumen’s office to the left. I turned right, sitting down on one of the couches. The house was quiet. No Mrs. Trumen doing laundry, or practicing on a new dish (she was a chief at a restaurant in the city), and no Mr. Trumen, sipping coffee in the dining room or watching sports on his laptop.

It felt strange. I realized that I really hadn’t been around in a while. I wondered if Doug had told his parents about Jay and me. If he did, had they reacted the same way Mom did or secretly think the same way?

The door slammed shut and Doug walked into the room. “Want a try of the cig?”
I gave him a look. “What do you think?”

“I can tell by your eyes that you want do,” he walked over to me, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. “Here. One try.” He held it to me.

“No,” I rolled my eyes. “Smoking is not for me.”

“How do you know that when you haven’t even tried?” He withdrew the cigarette and threw it into the trash can. He was lucky that his dad smoked so no one would question the cigarette.

“You’re right: I don’t know,” I said, “but I don’t care and I don’t want to. There are some things in life that are better off being left alone.”

“You seriously have a quote for everything,” Doug said, heading over to the kitchen and taking a soda out of the fridge. “Want one?”

“No,” I replied. “Just glad that’s not alcohol you’re having.”

“You sound like my mother,” he laughed, sitting down on the couch opposite of me. “You’re so weird, though. I mean, cigarettes and alcohol? Do you have something against drugs too?”

“They kill your brain,” I answered bluntly as he laughed even more. “Do you use drugs too?”

He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Nah,wooden doors (http://www.solidwoodendoors.org/), not a big fan of drugs.” He cracked open his soda and took a sip of it. “This is the first time you’ve been around in a long time, and we’re catching up on drugs.”

“You invited me here,” I told him. “I figured that there was something important you wanted to tell me, since this visit is really out of the blue and all.”

Doug took another swallow of the Dr. Pepper, eyes lowered as if he was thinking of something.

“Did you get a girl pregnant?” I questioned.

“What?” His eyes snapped up, bewildered. “No. Where did you get that idea?”

“Just wanted to make sure that you were listening to me,” I said.

“I was…thinking,” he said, standing up.

There was a long pause.

“Thinking…?” I began.

He suddenly got up, walking towards me.

I got a weird feeling in the back of my mind,solid wood doors (http://www.solidwoodendoors.org/), but I didn’t know rather or not to ask about it. Instead, I got up on my feet, beginning to walk towards the kitchen. “Actually, Dr. Pepper sounds good.”

“Wyatt,” Doug spoke.

Reluctantly, I stopped and look back at him. He had an angry expression,wood doors (http://www.solidwoodendoors.org/), eyes squinted and mouth turned down at the corners, but he wasn’t mad. When Doug looks angry, he’s actually being serious (and when he’s angry, you can’t tell at all). “What is it?”

An uneasy expression took over his face. “I…I like you.”