The drive up to Rick's place in the hills always made me sick. Just after he bought the house with his ill gotten gains from his band's over-hyped, over-marketed, and over-bought sophomore Disc, he drove me out to see it in his beautiful but nauseating '70 Datsun 240 Z. All the smog combined with the pinball effects of winding up the hill at teeth-numbing speeds had me puking for an hour after we got there. I took the last turn at the top of the hill and watched the rising sun crest over the black blocks of the city, her angel wings soiled and cheapened with the soot of 12 million get-away drivers. Rick's house came into view out of the fog, its large glass panes sparkling like the last clean surface of an oversized ashtray. I parked between a blue hatchback and Rick's favorite toy: a 350 horsepower Impreza he had smuggled here from Japan. All his more expensive rides were in the garage, collecting dust and gaining vintage resale value. I rang the bell. I waited and watched a couple of squirrels fight over a small treasure in the bushes. The door opened. "Dingo." "Hey, Luna." Her job as Rick's assistant was to take care of his place while he was out being a rock star. She made sure all his bills were paid, his animals were fed, and that the subsequent fallout from any parties she might have in his absence didn't leave any lasting damage. She was pretty by most standards, gorgeous by others. Short with a tight schoolgirl body and raven hair that teased her avian shoulders. But by whatever standard, her beauty was like a rare and exotic bird she kept caged behind the bars of her perfect teeth. As soon as she opened her mouth it flew away. What did Dingo think of Luna? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. He thought she was pretty B. He thought she was quite rude C. not enough information D. He thought she was an exotic bird
A

With the growth of the Internet and the ease of publishing content, more and more creative minds are coming online to share videos, music, software, products, services, opinions, and more. While the technology has empowered a generation to build new audiences and share interesting things, an unfortunate side-effect has been a culture in which some consumers of this content have provided feedback in a form that is personalized, mean-spirited, disrespectful, and in some cases, malicious. We have all seen itthe trolls, the haters, the comment boxes filled with venom and vitriol, typically pointed at people just trying to do good and interesting things. Unfortunately, this conduct can be jarring for many people, with some going as far to give up sharing their creative endeavours so as not to deal with the "wrath of the Internet". As some of you will know, this has been bothering me for a while now. While there is no silver bullet for solving these issues, one thing I have learned over the years is how to put negative, anti-social, and non-constructive comments and feedback into perspective. To help others with this I have written a free book called Dealing With Disrespect. Dealing With Disrespect is a short, simple to read, free book that provides a straight-forward guide for handling this kind of challenging feedback, picking out the legitimate criticism to learn from, and how to not just ignore the haters, but how to manage them. The book helps put all communication, whether on or offline, into perspective and helps you to become a better communicator yourself. My goal with the book is that when someone reads something anti-social that demotivates them, a friend can recommend 'Dealing With Disrespect' as something that can help put things in perspective. How long did it probably take the narrator to write his book? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. 5 days B. 10 minutes C. not enough information D. A year
D

Q: Manny had Bob Marley cranking on the stereo, his van was full of passengers, and the air conditioning was working after a long week of giving him trouble. The sun beat down on the wet-looking asphalt road that ran along the harbor, next to the concrete waterfront. It curved along in front of the brightly colored Dutch Colonial warehouses of Charlotte Amalie, which were now converted restaurants and jewel shops. Tourists in day-glo shirts and daubs of sunscreen rubbed over peeling skin crowded both sides of the waterfront road. Manny slowed somewhat, keeping an eye on them. On the sidewalk by the shops a tall black man stood by a food cart. The hand-painted wooden sign hanging from the cart's side had faded letters. The man wore a grand suit with tails, like an orchestra conductor, and a top hat perched on his shaved head. A cigar burned in his mouth. For a brief second he held Manny's attention. Then the food cart's owner stepped forward and the strangely dressed man disappeared. Manny looked at the other side of the road. A white girl with oval shaped sunglasses and pink leather pants stepped off the sidewalk into the road in front of his van. He slammed on the brakes, trying to dodge her, but the van couldn't respond that fast. Her ponytail flew up towards the windshield and her head struck the star-shaped hood ornament. She bounced along the asphalt. Manny weaved the van to a stop, with swearing from the passengers in the back. He opened the door and stepped out into the heat. Get up, stand up, the radio cried out, and that was what Manny hoped would happen. He hoped that she would at least just stir and be okay. But she just lay there. How long was the actual collision between the van and the girl? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. A few hours B. A few minutes C. not enough information D. A few seconds
A: D

*Question*
Yes, it's actually happened to me before. Let me explain before I get called irresponsible, or incapable of having a dog, or incompetent, My dog is my baby, since the day I got her we've been inseparable. I learned from this mistake and have taken every precaution to prevent it from happening again. She was uninjured luckily, but I was freaking traumatized. I have a SUUUUPPPPEEEERRR long driveway, so I usually drive my truck to the end to check my mail, and on this particular day, I was out in my yard playing with Roxie, I saw the mailman drive by through my fence, and so we walked back to the house, I grabbed my keys, and off we went. This wasn't too long ago, maybe May, so it's hot, typical North Carolina weather, maybe 92 and some change, so my windows are down, because I drive a 13 year old black truck, so it's hot as hell, and it makes it hard to breathe. The AC works, it just takes time to kick in, and number 5 (my highest AC setting) does not work. As I'm driving down, I'm going maybe 5 miles an hour. I'm petting Roxie with my right hand when I feel her jerk out of my reach and I hear a bush rustle, I look to the passenger side, slam on brakes (because the last thing I want is to hurt my baby) and put the truck in park. Sure enough, my mom and her Chihuahua were out in the front yard, and Roxie, being her playful self jumped out and ran. She scared the absolute shit out of me, so now when I drive with her in the car, the window stays shut or cracked. Lesson learned. What is probably true about the author? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. They have never owned a pet. B. They like animals. C. They hate animals. D. not enough information
**Answer**
B