Thousand Oaks Blog

aydin asked:


how much dose it cost to show a car to mechanics when buying a used car in thousand oaks,ca

PHILIPPE

cameronc08 asked:


I recently moved to Thousand Oaks, California and am curious to become a waiter at Marie Callender’s. I was just curious if anyone works at one of these restaurants, any tips on a NEW waiter. How long until I begin waiting tables? Do you guys bus your own tables? Is it very laid back? Do you make min wage? Whats an avg night’s earnings? Just looking for tips both from a new waiter standpoint and from the specific restaurant, so any help is much appreciated. Thanks!

DELOSANTOS

ihartstewie! asked:


I slowly walked towards the small wooden door. My small Mary Janes made little or no sound as I neared closer. My mother had just told me to feed her, and I was doing so, for she would never do it herself. As I reached for the glass door knob, a tingling feeling shot up my arm and through my whole body.I became stiff and petrified. But, this was the same feeling that overcame me everytime.I took a deep breath and opened the door, slowly, so that it wouldn’t make the slightest sound. I turned to face her, hunched over on the same old, oak bed and thrashed matress. She was nearly 13 yrs. older than me, but still lived with us and there was a reason, a frightening reason. Even though we heard her screeching cries for help, all through the night , we never helped her, never. I looked straight into her bloodshot eyes, and she met mine. She seemed to be staring straight into my soul. It was unsettling, I soon looked away. I paced towards the rickety bed, and studied her.

The same protruding bones, stretching her skin out to its near extent. The same crooked hands that seemed to be clenching something. I always looked at her in such horror and disgust, but she never said a word, for she couldn’t. Her long, jagged fingernails cut the palms of her hands, which had become raw and swollen. You could see the old, dry blood sitting there, peeling off, and crumpling onto the bed frame. It smelt as though a thousand corpse’s had been rotting in that room for million’s of years, and it was so cold, I felt as though I was in a freezer!

Once I reached the foot of her bed, I quickly set the bowl of split pea soup on the ground and began towards the door. I knew she couldn’t feed herself, but I didn’t care, I was so frightened and scared. As I reached the door, my mothers words echoed into the deep, depths of my mind. “If you don’t feed her ill beat you, and I mean it, this time, I mean it!” Memories of the wooden pole she had used to bash my head in when I was a “bad girl” came swarming back into my head. I raised my left hand to the top of my forehead, and felt where the bloody wound had once been. I turned around, and slowly paced towards the edge of the bed. As I approached it , I reached into the top left pocket of my flower-printed summer dress and plucked out a small, wooden ladle. I bent down and dug it into the bowl, then out again. The distasteful smell wafted from it, and made it’s way into my nostrils. I slowly walked over to her, the soup swishing this way, and that onto the dry, wood floor. As the spoon neared her mouth, she began to scream in agonizing pain. It reached the tip of…

her tongue, she tried to swallow it as huge droplets hit the matress and seeped through. Unable to consume it, she began to vomit profusely, every which way. It would usually sit there for weeks, rotting like an, old, mangled corpse, for I was always to afraid to get to very near to her . I usually waited until my mother nearly forced me to clean the putrid mess up. I look at her with a blank stare, emptiness. I knew she was my sister, but did I love her? I didn’t know. How COULD you love someone so disgusting and horrible looking? In a way I felt sorrowful, but in a sick way, I wonderfully enjoyed the night she died……

this is just the prologue, be nice, but be truthful, im only 13. if u say its good ill continue:D
0 seconds ago

+how can u get a book published?

section1.-beginning(continued)-

I had always wondered what was wrong with my sister, ever since I was a little girl. I would look up at my mother with the same coy expression, every time, asking ,”What’s wrong with Lia?”She would simply come down to my level and scream into my ear,”Nothing,now go feed her!”I hardly remember the first moment of having to go into that dimly lit basement and seeing her nausiating body curled up on that beat up matress. I’m not much older now, only eleven, im used to stepping into that room and feeding her.Its just that I always thought she would be DEAD by now,why wont she just die all ready?! Its not that I wish for this ALL the time,sometimes I feel bad for her. Or DO I ? This question runs through my mind every second of every day. Maybe I DON’T feel bad for her. Maybe I don’t feel bad for her at all.

SENN

ihartstewie! asked:


I slowly walked towards the small wooden door. My small Mary Janes made little or no sound as I neared closer. My mother had just told me to feed her, and I was doing so, for she would never do it herself. As I reached for the glass door knob, a tingling feeling shot up my arm and through my whole body.I became stiff and petrified. But, this was the same feeling that overcame me everytime.I took a deep breath and opened the door, slowly, so that it wouldn’t make the slightest sound. I turned to face her, hunched over on the same old, oak bed and thrashed matress. She was nearly 13 yrs. older than me, but still lived with us and there was a reason, a frightening reason. Even though we heard her screeching cries for help, all through the night , we never helped her, never. I looked straight into her bloodshot eyes, and she met mine. She seemed to be staring straight into my soul. It was unsettling, I soon looked away. I paced towards the rickety bed, and studied her.

The same protruding bones, stretching her skin out to its near extent. The same crooked hands that seemed to be clenching something. I always looked at her in such horror and disgust, but she never said a word, for she couldn’t. Her long, jagged fingernails cut the palms of her hands, which had become raw and swollen. You could see the old, dry blood sitting there, peeling off, and crumpling onto the bed frame. It smelt as though a thousand corpse’s had been rotting in that room for million’s of years, and it was so cold, I felt as though I was in a freezer!

Once I reached the foot of her bed, I quickly set the bowl of split pea soup on the ground and began towards the door. I knew she couldn’t feed herself, but I didn’t care, I was so frightened and scared. As I reached the door, my mothers words echoed into the deep, depths of my mind. “If you don’t feed her ill beat you, and I mean it, this time, I mean it!” Memories of the wooden pole she had used to bash my head in when I was a “bad girl” came swarming back into my head. I raised my left hand to the top of my forehead, and felt where the bloody wound had once been. I turned around, and slowly paced towards the edge of the bed. As I approached it , I reached into the top left pocket of my flower-printed summer dress and plucked out a small, wooden ladle. I bent down and dug it into the bowl, then out again. The distasteful smell wafted from it, and made it’s way into my nostrils. I slowly walked over to her, the soup swishing this way, and that onto the dry, wood floor. As the spoon neared her mouth, she began to scream in agonizing pain. It reached the tip of…

her tongue, she tried to swallow it as huge droplets hit the matress and seeped through. Unable to consume it, she began to vomit profusely, every which way. It would usually sit there for weeks, rotting like an, old, mangled corpse, for I was always to afraid to get to very near to her . I usually waited until my mother nearly forced me to clean the putrid mess up. I look at her with a blank stare, emptiness. I knew she was my sister, but did I love her? I didn’t know. How COULD you love someone so disgusting and horrible looking? In a way I felt sorrowful, but in a sick way, I wonderfully enjoyed the night she died……

this is just the prologue, be nice, but be truthful, im only 13. if u say its good ill continue:D
0 seconds ago

+how can u get a book published?

section1.-beginning(continued)-

I had always wondered what was wrong with my sister, ever since I was a little girl. I would look up at my mother with the same coy expression, every time, asking ,”What’s wrong with Lia?”She would simply come down to my level and scream into my ear,”Nothing,now go feed her!”I hardly remember the first moment of having to go into that dimly lit basement and seeing her nausiating body curled up on that beat up matress. I’m not much older now, only eleven, im used to stepping into that room and feeding her.Its just that I always thought she would be DEAD by now,why wont she just die all ready?! Its not that I wish for this ALL the time,sometimes I feel bad for her. Or DO I ? This question runs through my mind every second of every day. Maybe I DON’T feel bad for her. Maybe I don’t feel bad for her at all.

JASIK

Hungry707 asked:


Ok, recently moved to Thousand Oaks and because I’m a workaholic, don’t usually eat dinner until after 8:30. Most restaurants out here seem to already be closing by this time, so where can I go to eat something (besides fast food or eating at a chain restaurant)? Preferrably something chic or at least UN-Denny’s like? Are there any hangouts for the upper 20s-30s group?

LEITAO

arie asked:


anyone have ideas? near calabasas, westlake, malibu, thousand oaks, CA

150 capacity
semi-casual attire

thnx.
found a great mansion in malibu already!

thanks for your help.

GATTON

Haleiwa girl asked:


Hi,
I am looking for a good vet for a cat. My parents live in the Ventura County area and need a good vet. Simi, Thousand Oaks, Moorpark area would be fine.
Please only personal experience. I have already done the search engines to look for reviews. I am far away and so I can’t do the footwork.
Aloha

OLDAKER

XxXxJoeJonas4everXxXx asked:


My heart raced a thousand time faster as I heard last period bell ring. I jumped up from my seat, anxious to see him. I dashed out of Mr. Raymond’s biology 1 class and to the, now overly-packed, hallway. My eyes lurked around, searching for him. No sign. I figured I might have just enough time to put my things in my locker so I don’t have to take everything home. I rushed to my locker, pushing past people, and ignoring the rude glances they shot at me for doing so. I opened my locker door hastily, trying to rush. I finally got it opened and literally threw everything in there, getting only the things I need for my homework. I slammed the locker door shut, and I knew I had to run to get outside before he left. I ran past people, searching every face until I found his. No where to be seen. I sighed. I ran down the concrete steps, trying to find him, but at the same time trying not to miss my bus. I waited by the old oak tree in the front of the school, hoping he didn’t come out yet. I may never have a chance with him, but it’s nice to dream. Then, I heard it. The laugh of the century. The beautiful bass chimes filled me ears, sending back to my dream-like state I always happened to fall into when he was around. He walked down the steps, with his beautiful princess-like girlfriend flanked on his side. She was laughing as well, only her laugh was harmony. They created a beautiful melody with their laughs, making me wonder what was so funny. She flipped her satin blonde hair, though I wasn’t really paying attention to her, only to the tall, black haired boy on her side.
The were almost down the steps now, almost towards me. I couldn’t look too pathetic, so I pulled out my blue and green notebook at sat down on the ground, leaning my back on the hard bark of the tree. I pretended to work on something, making sure my hair was covering most of my face. I peeked through my hair a couple times, just enough to see where they were. Probably about 10 feet away, I guess. Their fingers were intertwined, and they were smiling. The sun glistened off of his beautiful white teeth, making me stare in awe. They walked past me without even the slightest glance, but I could still see his amazing brown-gold eyes as clearly as I could see a splash of blood on a white cloth. They both piled into his cherry red Ferrari F30, I know it’s a little much for the small town of Hullerton, but he had money. Lots of money. I sighed and got up, wiping the pieces of grass off of my back and butt, hoping I got all of them off. I rushed to my bus, hoping I wouldn’t miss it, and I didn’t. Just in time. I climbed up and sat in my usual seat. Alone. I pulled Breaking Dawn by Stephanie Meyer and began to read it for the seventh time this month. I read the words, though I never could stop thinking about him, as usual. I sighed and closed the book shut, slamming it into my bag. I sighed. Another day where I can’t get him off of my mind. Shocker, shocker there. I laid my head against the cold glass window and watched the grass wiz by underneath me. I heard the hustle and bustle of the people on my bus, but I didn’t take in any of it. All I could hear was his laugh. Joe’s laugh.

I walked off of the smelly, packed yellow bus and up my long, swerving driveway. I sighed and continued to walk, looking down at my feet the whole time. What was I thinking?! He would never notice me, ever. I was nothing to him. A small piece of nothingness that just crowds his way. I wanted to cry. I promised myself I would never, ever lose hope, because one day, when were both older and more mature, he will realize what he always wanted was right in front of him. I will always be there with open arms. Always and Forever.
I opened the front door of my house. Well, my parents house. I am only 16. I took off my shoes in the foyer and gave my jacket to Maria. Yeah, I have a maid, and a butler, but that doesn’t really matter. I think of them as family, just really clean nice family. My parents had money, loads of it. I don’t like flaunting my money out to the world, so very little people know my actual lifestyle. I refuse to go to premieres and red carpet events, due to the fact I’m not really famous. I don’t like attention, and my older sister always makes fun of me for it. Yes, my older sister is famous, but there is no way anyone besides my two closest friends and my family know about this and no one else ever will. My sister is an actress, but she’s way older than me. You may know her, her name is Angelina Jolie. Yes, the same Angelina Jolie who was in Wanted and Sharktale. My name is Anastasia Jolie. The unimportant and uglier version of Angie. And when I say uglier, I mean it. I have met her boyfriend though. Brad. Brad Pitt. Ugh, I spat out the last word. I **** that man. Not only did he get Angie involved in a horrible feud between Jen and her, but he cheated on Jen with her! How horrible! The best part? Brad never told Angie that him and Jen were together,

MARSHALL

Matt d asked:


As the birds sing and the trees flowed in the wind, a boy ventured out hunting with his father on his 17th birthday. “Father what’s the matter? Can’t you keep up?” He chuckled, “Your getting to old father! Ha-ha” He shouted, panting slightly.
“I may be old Alakai and you may be faster but I have the wisdom!” his father shouted back.
“There is no wisdom needed to run father! I’ll get to the buck long before you!” He shouted with a little laugh as he ran faster and faster jumping and dodging through the tall thick trees.
“What you don’t see is that your about to lose, son!” said his father with a sort of know-it-all grin.
“And whys that!” He yelled having just been confused. As it seemed to be not yet one second after he had answered he hit something with a giant THUD! He awoke with the pain of a thousand drums in his head..
“See boy, I told you that you were going to lose” chuckled his father as stood there staring down at him.
“It feels like I’ve been kicked by a horse, did you catch the buck?” He asked, slowly getting up holding his throbbing head.
“No son, it seems that giant red lump on your forehead must have scared it away” laughed his father.
“Oh ha-ha father, you have jokes don’t you” He said. “Lets just get back home; mother will get worried if we don’t make it in time for breakfast”.
“Right you are son.” His father replied.
So they headed out back towards their farm. On the way, He noticed how the woods were getting smaller and smaller, there were hardly any fine dark brown oak trees anymore, and in fact, they were the only trees left in his village. The king’s men had chopped the rest and burned them because of failure to pay for land. After a while of walking he had a sort of chill flow down his spine, like a slow but fierce burst of cold wind blew past them and on through the woods brushing the leaves of the giant trees as it went by. He decided to ignore it as he felt it was just a cold front coming down from the hills.
Soon enough they reached the opening of the woods where just beyond the sparkling duck ponds you could see their farm. He was especially excited to get back seeing as he was starving for some food, and maybe also a present from his mother. As his father and he kept getting closer and closer to our cottage, He noticed something strange… there was smoke pouring from the seals and cracks of the door and windows! In a burst of sprint, He started running for the cottage only thinking of his mother’s safety.
“Alakai!! Where are you…?” His father yelled after him, only just realizing the smoke too, he chased after him. “Alakai wait! It’s too dangerous! Let me handle this!” his father bellowed running right past him and into the burning house.
He stood there watching and waiting, hoping that any minute his father and mother would run out of the house safely but as a couple minutes went by no one came out.
“FATHER!!” He screamed…but still no one came out. “MOTHER!!” He yelled again…still nothing. Then, with a sudden burst, his father came rushing out of the house carrying what looked like to be his mother.
He stood there in shock only hoping his mother would be ok. His father placed his mother down on the grass which seemed to be covered in a thick layer of black ash. He watched as his father tried to wake his mother but her eyes did not open, his father slowly stood up keeping his head down as if he had failed. He looked up at him with a look Alakai had never seen before; it was of sadness and forgiveness. All of a sudden his father flinched and with a mere shudder spoke to Alakai.
“Alakai…run!” he muttered.
“Father… what’s wrong??” Alakai asked his father slowly walking towards him to see if he was alright. “Father! Tell me wha…”. But before he could finish his sentence, his father collapsed face first into the black ashy grass. And it had been that day, the day he saw his father and mother die right in front of his eyes was the day he became a man.. There was nothing he could do but stand there and stare in horror at the arrow sticking out of his father’s back and his mother on the ground beside him. He stood for what seemed like 5 hours but really it was only a mere second, then he ran, ran as fast and as stealthy as he could. He only had a chance to look behind, and when he did, He saw 6 black hooded figures carrying giant bows that seemed to be made out of bone running towards his cottage where his mother and father lay dead. He quickly made his way through the brush of the woods until he found a dark but quiet place to rest.

tell me what u think and if u wanna see more =]

ANSON

BabyGlennIsHere:) asked:


We bought a new wall pier bed about 2 years ago but we didnt buy the dressers to match because we didnt have the room. Now we are moving into a much bigger house but now the dressers that belong in that collection are no longer available! We do have two old dressers that were my husbands grandmothers I believe and they are very sturdy and very nice. The only problem is that our bed is a natural/light oak color and these dressers are more of a cherry/dark wood. Instead of spending a thousand dollars on dressers that will never match perfectly, I thought about possibly refinishing these ones. We are also due to have a baby in 6 weeks so I am not thinking I will have too much time to dedicate to such a project. I am hoping to find the easiest way possible to refinish these pieces. Basically, all that needs to be done is sanding down the old finish and then staining them your color, right? Or am I missing steps? Also, what are all the tools needed and any recommeded tools? Thank you!

NORDGREN