Question: Oh dear. Another tale of woe from me When I met my ex, I was in foster care. I was a very confused 17 year old, and she took an interest in me, and we would talk about all my problems with my own family, and everything that was going wrong with me. I even 'came out' to her at one point. We spent a lot of time together and gradually, I thought I might not be gay after all, as I had feelings of love for her. Eventually, we started dating and I tried to suppress my gay feelings. Eventually, I proposed. We were engaged for just over a year and I got married at the age of 19. I have to admit, when the wedding plans got firmed up and much closer to the date, I started to feel that I was in fact still gay but so much money had already been spent, and plans made that I was too afraid to pull out. Don't get me wrong, I still love my ex wife a heck of a lot, but as my very best friend. I hate to use the phrase, but with everything that has gone on with me the last few years, she has been 'my rock'. We separated after about 8 years, when our daughter was 7 years old, and I told her why. I just couldn't go on living the lie. I hate myself for doing it to her. Selfishly, I wouldn't change things though, as I have my daughter and I love her, and I love being a parent. We had 'Unexpected Song' played as she walked down the aisle at the church; the lyrics really summed up how we felt about each other and how we had gotten together Unexpected Song Michael Crawford YouTube. Who is the author? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. A gay editor B. A gay blogger C. not enough information D. A gay writer
Answer: C

Question: I was one of the best fingerprint examiners in the world. I could do things the FBI thought impossible. I could memorize fingerprints. The nearby agencies, including local offices of federal agencies that had their own labs, came to me for help. One day in a trial a new-hatched defence attorney tried to make me seem neglectful because I hadn't sent the prints from the crime scene to the FBI for verification. The FBI will not look at prints that have already been identified locally. I tried to get that across to him. Finally I said, "Sir, you don't understand. I don't ask the FBI for help. The FBI asks me for help." The courtroom went dead silent. The lawyer choked a bit and looked frantically at the judge, who knew me quite well. The judge slowly nodded. The lawyer choked a few more times, said, "No further questions," and returned to his seat. I was the only person in the five-state area in which the silver burglar was hitting who got him on fingerprint evidence. He never left fingerprint evidence . . . except when he did. Every other police agency quit looking, because his MO was unmistakable. We didn't. A detective got prints from a bamboo tree he had used to climb in a window, and I got several prints from items he had handled inside the house. After the trial he was being led back to the jail and I was walking down the hall. He stopped and said, "I want to talk to that lady." The bailiff told him he couldn't talk to the witness, but I said I wanted to hear what he had to say. He said, "Lady, you're the smartest cop I ever saw, and I hope to God I never see you again." I think that was the best compliment I ever got. I have other accomplishments. But I consider my police work the most important. What could the fingerprint examiner memorize? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. fingerprints B. not enough information C. case facts D. suspect profiles
Answer: A

Question: One spring it stopped raining in early March and didn't start again. There was one very well-off bunny in the village who had a large burrow and lots of food saved up. He wasn't worried about the drought at all. The other bunnies, though, looked at the purple-red nettles withering in the fields and the mayweed that hadn't even flowered and wondered if they were going to have enough food to get them through the next winter. The very well-off bunny was named Albertus, but everybody called him Big Al--at least they called him that when they were sure he couldn't hear them. Big Al was in fact a very large bunny with long, white, silky fur. He had lots of land that his parents had left to him, and he never let any of the other bunnies gather food there. The story was that Big Al had sat on the one bunny who tried to make off with some of his carrots until the small bunny begged for mercy. After Big Al let him up, the small bunny moved to another village. One morning a dozen or more bunnies sat around the village square, licking the dew off the dried and wrinkled clover to quench their thirsts, and talking about the drought. There was still a bit of a cool breeze from Possum Creek, a mile or so away. Sophie Bunny, who was large and sleek, with a black circle around one eye, was there with her husband Lenny and their youngest, Ralph, who still lived at home with them. "I don't mind telling you," Lenny said, "I'm getting a little scared by all this." Lenny was a small, tan bunny with buck teeth and big cheeks like a chipmunk. "No need to be afraid," said the short, overweight Reverend Billy Bunny, the village's spiritual leader. "The Easter Bunny will provide." He sat, as he usually did, by the thick green hawthorn bush in the middle of the square--although the bush was neither as thick nor as green as it had once been. After the story ends Big Al: Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. invites the other bunnies into his burrow. B. probably eats his food during the drought C. not enough information D. shares his food with the other bunnies
Answer:
B