my first date.
My first date.
By Robert Kingett.
Authors note, this is not supposed to be a full length story, it is just going to tell what happened on my first date with Ciara.
Sunlight filled my vision. Faint though, yes it was merely faint sunlight. It was early in the morning on a Sunday. As I laid there still attempting to drift back into the land of dreams someone opened my bed room door. It was my guardian, Debbie.
“come on, you got to go to work with me so you can get to go see twilight with Ciara.” I knew this, so I don’t know why she was telling me this now. This is something I knew ever since I had the idea. The prospect of seeing Ciara again was just to great for words. I would get to be in her presence and not just a voice over a phone line. With this in mind, I got dressed and went out to the car having my ipod with me. It was a long drive from where I was to saint Augustine, that I knew, I just didn’t know how long. I didn’t care, I had audio books. The whole ride there I just listened to audio books, and well, thought about the conversation Ciara and I had the last time we talked on the phone. To be honest, it unnerved me.
“Robert.” she had said when here parents were not in the house. Her parents have to monitor their, our conversations with each other over the phone. Not because of what I might say, but because of what she did, and would most likely say in the future.
“yes?” I said worried.
“remember the last conversation we had? About drew, and the dance?”
“yes. What about it?” I deduced the answer before she uttered it. “you didn’t tell me all of what happened that night did you?” there was a huge pause. What was she thinking? Knowing her mind it couldn’t have been something simple.
“well, I almost kissed drew.” I expected to feel a knife tear through my gut. I expected to feel my heart being ripped out of my body, but I did not have any of those feelings. What I did feel In fact was… a small pain in my side.
“oh, well…” I didn’t know what to say. “well… we can move on right? I mean, that was just one event. We can look past that, and gaze ahead into the future, since that dance is over with.”
“Robert I also want to tell you something.”
“ok, I’m listening.”
“it hurt me a little when you said you didn’t want to kiss me soon, now. That kind of hurts me you know, that makes me feel like you do not want me.” that made me a little angry.
“look. You know that I’m not interested in all that stuff. You know, that that’s not on my mind now. Kissing, and making love to each other some day is not on my mind right now, and you have to respect that.”
“I know, but I liked it when drew held me close. I liked it when he almost kissed me.” I was being hurt. Weather she knew it or not she was hurting me. “but that’s because of hormones, nothing else. But still, sooner or later you have to stop being so guarded with me. Sooner or later, you know, you have to let go you know?” I did know. She wanted more physical contact with me. “I told Morgan yesterday,” she went on. “that I hope your not this way forever. I hope that you will one day stop being a gentlemen and just… just… I don’t know.” I was not liking what I was hearing. At 14 years of age, she was thinking about kissing, about one day making love to each other and having a kid. I’m not ready to think about all that stuff yet, and I tried to tell her so.
“look, Ciara, right now, that’s not on my mind at all. You have to respect that and wait ok.” she wasn’t listening to me at all. She wanted more. This was not enough. To be honest I was not into the whole kissing and making out thing and the whole making love aspect either. I haven’t even thought about those kinds of things, and I didn’t want to, until later. Ciara did, and she was telling me she wanted me to make out with her more. Simple as that. Truth is, I didn’t want to, yet. I liked us the way we were. Holding hands, talking long into the night, laughing with each other. As much as I tried not to think about Ciara this way, one word came to mind. Even though she was a virgin, she was also… promiscuous. A home for hormones to rage around all they want with no restraints. I didn’t like that about her. Not at all, but after all that, after what I just learned, something else was obvious. I still loved her.
“”as I said before. Nothing happened on the ride to my guardians work place or the ride with Ciara to the movie theaters. I was completely happy to be in her presence again. I also had completely forgotten about that conversation. We were going to go see twilight, the movie to the book series that we sort of shared. Telling each other about the different books, speculating about abnormal things, finding out comparisons and situations that an average reader would not even try to do. I liked the fact that I can do that with her, and I loved doing it. When I climbed in the seat in the van, Ciara instantly reached for my hand.
The mall was just like any other. Wide, open, and smelled like clothes. The walls and floor were a grayish color. The temperature was actually comfortable for once and not ice cold like the previous times I came here. When we managed to get inside the movie theater, she instantly laid her head on my shoulder. I didn’t mind that at all. Truth be told, she reminded me of a child. I wanted to wrap her up in my arms, and rock her to sleep.
About half way through the movie, she started to draw closer to me. To be honest I wanted to concentrate on the movie because I heard that it was indeed a good movie. I felt a hand rub my face, and then, I could hear rappid breathing beside me, slowly, ever so slowly, the hand made It’s way to my cheek. On the screen, Bella and Edward were about to kiss. They were inches apart. My head was slowly pulled to the right, and the last thing I saw, before my cold lips met Ciara’s hot ones, is bella and Edward kissing, just like Ciara and I. when she kissed me, my stomach lurched. The room went silent, it was as though someone had just made me deaf. My breathing increased, and my heart was pumping a million miles and hour. To be honest, I felt like I was going to be sick, but I liked it. I liked this new elation I was having, if that’s even what It’s called. I did however, feel like I was going to be sick. I attempted to pull away, but she held me close. I didn’t know what I was feeling. On the one hand, I was in pure utter heaven. On the otter, I was about to be sick. I felt like I had a massive adrenaline rush and I was going to pass out at any minute, plus I felt like I was going to vomit. Still though, our lips stayed locked. Ours weren’t the only lips that were locked though, on the screen, bella, and Edward were kissing with us. Time was limitless. After we finally pulled away, I was gasping, and trying hard not to faint or pass out. Trying to slow my heart beat down some, I watched the movie. Ciara however, was loving what she was feeling. It was making me sick, literally. As the film passed. She kept stroking my face. That part I didn’t mind, she kept kissing my cheek that didn’t make my stomach do flip flops., nor make the world stop spinning. She was all over me. Completely forgetting the movie, she went to sleep on my shoulder, and her hand in my lap. She woke up near the end. When the credits came she kissed my lips again. Again, I loved it, yet hated it. I wouldn’t say hate, just not ready for it. Mt stomach lurched up, I thought I was going to puke, but I didn’t. it wasn’t that her kiss was bad, I was just having some weird reaction to my first kiss. Again, no sound could be heard, no sight could be seen, no other person exsiccated. Just Ciara and I, bella and Edward. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding. My hands were shaking. I eventually had to pull away, otherwise I would have passed out. That was the first time I kissed someone on the lips. I hoped it wouldn’t be the last time either.
When I was about to get in the car to go. I bid Ciara good night, and told her I loved her. She kissed my cheek. Throughout the rest of the afternoon I was trying to ponder why I reacted so weirdly. Why my stomach felt like it was going to shoot out of my mouth. Did I react that way because I didn’t want her to kiss me? Did I react that way because it was something new? I tried to ponder that all afternoon, and I could not. Walking slowly to the car that would take me home, I thought about my reaction to her kissing me. Did that mean I wasn’t ready to kiss yet? Did that mean her breath stunk? Or did that mean without knowing it, that I no longer loved Ciara as strongly as I thought I did? I rode home thinking about all these questions, and never getting an answer.
stories with only 55 words.
My 55 word stories.
These are stories that only contain 55 words, and they all have a surprise ending or a hilarious one. I do admit that I may have went a little crazy with my word count on my computer, but what do you expect? Some of these might not be 55 words. Well, anyway, hope that you all enjoy and please save your hate mail until after I graduate. Thanks.
STORY 1.
The need to laugh was tremendous. she could not understand why, but the laughter was getting harder and harder to suppress. With a huge effort she bit down on her cheek, but to no avail. A torrent of laughter burst forth, and the other funeral goers stared at her.
Story 2.
A man faces a choice. He knows equally little about his two options; he wouldn’t be able to tell them apart if he saw them both. It doesn’t matter to him, but the fate of three hundred million is at stake. He closes his eyes, picks a name at random, and exits the voting booth.
STORY 3.
An argument ensues inside a home.
“Orange juice”
“apple juice!”
“orange!”
The twins turn to the third sibling. “What do you think?”
“well, I don’t care. I am a soda drinker, myself.”
STORY 4.
Do I look strange, I wonder, as I sit here counting words? Crossing out and rewording a single phrase and counting again? Do they think, perhaps, I have some kind of obsessive compulsive thing about my word count? Or have I already been written off as weird, and this doesn’t matter?
I really don’t care.
STORY 5…
The temptation to do it is tremendous. She mustn’t! She has been fruitlessly following this path for months. It would be so easy for someone to sway her to the other side right now. She heads for the vending machines. Forget the diet.
STORY 6…
The writer types a string of words that make up the closing lines of a supreme love story. As his fingers stop moving after typing the words “the end” he sighs. He stands up, and trips over a cord. He looks down at the keyboard cord on the floor tangled around his foot, unplugged.
STORY 7…
The dog stared at his options, each he equally hates, but at the same time loves. One human, or the other? The boy or the girl? Which will serve his purpose at getting his target? Who shall he use? Both humans stare at him with leashes in hands, eagerly standing in the Wight room. The dog makes his choice. “I’ll take you.” The dog says talking to the cat. The cat follows him to the vets office.
STORY 8…
She never married. No one understood why. Some say that it was because she hated men, but this was a farce. She dated many of them in her time, but had never proposed. On her death bead, her son had finally asked her why. Her glassy almost dead eyes grew wide as she gasped “I fear cake!” come to think of it, she didn’t like birthdays either.
These are stories that only contain 55 words, and they all have a surprise ending or a hilarious one. I do admit that I may have went a little crazy with my word count on my computer, but what do you expect? Some of these might not be 55 words. Well, anyway, hope that you all enjoy and please save your hate mail until after I graduate. Thanks.
STORY 1.
The need to laugh was tremendous. she could not understand why, but the laughter was getting harder and harder to suppress. With a huge effort she bit down on her cheek, but to no avail. A torrent of laughter burst forth, and the other funeral goers stared at her.
Story 2.
A man faces a choice. He knows equally little about his two options; he wouldn’t be able to tell them apart if he saw them both. It doesn’t matter to him, but the fate of three hundred million is at stake. He closes his eyes, picks a name at random, and exits the voting booth.
STORY 3.
An argument ensues inside a home.
“Orange juice”
“apple juice!”
“orange!”
The twins turn to the third sibling. “What do you think?”
“well, I don’t care. I am a soda drinker, myself.”
STORY 4.
Do I look strange, I wonder, as I sit here counting words? Crossing out and rewording a single phrase and counting again? Do they think, perhaps, I have some kind of obsessive compulsive thing about my word count? Or have I already been written off as weird, and this doesn’t matter?
I really don’t care.
STORY 5…
The temptation to do it is tremendous. She mustn’t! She has been fruitlessly following this path for months. It would be so easy for someone to sway her to the other side right now. She heads for the vending machines. Forget the diet.
STORY 6…
The writer types a string of words that make up the closing lines of a supreme love story. As his fingers stop moving after typing the words “the end” he sighs. He stands up, and trips over a cord. He looks down at the keyboard cord on the floor tangled around his foot, unplugged.
STORY 7…
The dog stared at his options, each he equally hates, but at the same time loves. One human, or the other? The boy or the girl? Which will serve his purpose at getting his target? Who shall he use? Both humans stare at him with leashes in hands, eagerly standing in the Wight room. The dog makes his choice. “I’ll take you.” The dog says talking to the cat. The cat follows him to the vets office.
STORY 8…
She never married. No one understood why. Some say that it was because she hated men, but this was a farce. She dated many of them in her time, but had never proposed. On her death bead, her son had finally asked her why. Her glassy almost dead eyes grew wide as she gasped “I fear cake!” come to think of it, she didn’t like birthdays either.
Diary of a dog.
5:30am:
Started the day as a hero! When the sound of the newspaper hitting the driveway roused me from my deep slumber -- the impact indicating the paper was much heavier than normal -- I realized that no one in the house was yet awake! I roused my master by licking him in the face. He appeared very angry with himself for having overslept, shouting and waving his arms. His ill temper even seemed directed at me a bit, which is silly since it is I who saved him from being fired. Funny thing though: He didn't go into work, but spent the morning leafing through the large newspaper and drinking coffee.
interested in what he was reading, i had a peak at the article. in bold huge print were the words DOG DRIVES CAR AND KILLS 6,000,000 PEOPLE! shocked, and somewhat releived that someone in the dog world had some guts, i walked out smiling to myself.
my tech dog, witny managed to get a snapshot of the paper.
7:30am:
Invaders! The people who live next door came out into their yard, obviously getting ready to lay siege to our house. Snarling and barking, I let them know in no uncertain terms that I was prepared to tear them from limb to limb if they came any closer, and was able to repel the invasion. This is an almost daily occurrence; you'd think they'd learn. My master added his voice to the fray as well, yelling angrily. I am sure the people couldn't hear him, but it was nice of him to lend his support.
10:00am:
I was forced to move, as the patch of sun in which I was lying had, for some reason, slid over a few feet. It's not easy being a dog.
1:00pm:
I have the most thoughtful master in the world! While it's true he left me alone in the house for several hours, he did set out a treat for me on the kitchen counter. It was even gift-wrapped, a courtesy I wish he'd skipped, since it led to me having a lot of plastic in my teeth. The roast was delicious, though frozen in the center. I don't want to seem ungrateful, but crunching through two inches of rock-hard beef is hardly my idea of a delicacy.
2:00pm:
Most unpleasant experience when my master returned home and was furious that I had not eaten the plastic wrap which had been covering my present. He kept pointing at the small pieces of Styrofoam and other debris and raving in a most irrational fashion. I'm sorry, but he should know that I can't eat that stuff; it makes my stomach upset. When he began rolling up a newspaper I realized he'd lost all reason and bolted for the front door, which was fortunately open just a crack.
4:00pm:
Spent the afternoon with the girls. A most productive day; I was able to mark territory for two blocks. "Drip 'til you drop" is our motto. We had a small snack at an outdoor cafe we like, with meat scraps and bread served out of circular containers with easily displaced lids. Ran into that rogue Sebastian, who lifted his leg with irritating nonchalance -- does he think I don't know about his obsession with Muffy, that snotty schnauzer from down the road? Last month there wasn't a male in the neighborhood who couldn't be found outside her fence, and Sebastian was at the head of the pack. I let him know I want nothing more to do with him.
5:00pm:
What a treat! On the way home a flock of ravens drew my attention to a squirrel that had been flattened by an automobile. After several days in the sun, the aroma was so delicious it made my nose quiver. I rolled in the wondrous fragrance for several minutes, and when I stood up I positively radiated eau de roadkill. Let Sebastian drool over Muffy -- he doesn't know what he's missing.
6:00pm:
Of all the times to get a bath! My master, still in a foul mood, made me stand outside in the chill air while he shampooed and rinsed me several times. Every time I shook the water from my fur he, too, became drenched, and in the end he was shivering. Why in the world does he do stuff like this?
9:00pm:
Time to sleep, though I am not allowed on the bed whenever anyone's home. Ah, the life of a dog.
Started the day as a hero! When the sound of the newspaper hitting the driveway roused me from my deep slumber -- the impact indicating the paper was much heavier than normal -- I realized that no one in the house was yet awake! I roused my master by licking him in the face. He appeared very angry with himself for having overslept, shouting and waving his arms. His ill temper even seemed directed at me a bit, which is silly since it is I who saved him from being fired. Funny thing though: He didn't go into work, but spent the morning leafing through the large newspaper and drinking coffee.
interested in what he was reading, i had a peak at the article. in bold huge print were the words DOG DRIVES CAR AND KILLS 6,000,000 PEOPLE! shocked, and somewhat releived that someone in the dog world had some guts, i walked out smiling to myself.
my tech dog, witny managed to get a snapshot of the paper.
7:30am:Invaders! The people who live next door came out into their yard, obviously getting ready to lay siege to our house. Snarling and barking, I let them know in no uncertain terms that I was prepared to tear them from limb to limb if they came any closer, and was able to repel the invasion. This is an almost daily occurrence; you'd think they'd learn. My master added his voice to the fray as well, yelling angrily. I am sure the people couldn't hear him, but it was nice of him to lend his support.
10:00am:
I was forced to move, as the patch of sun in which I was lying had, for some reason, slid over a few feet. It's not easy being a dog.
1:00pm:
I have the most thoughtful master in the world! While it's true he left me alone in the house for several hours, he did set out a treat for me on the kitchen counter. It was even gift-wrapped, a courtesy I wish he'd skipped, since it led to me having a lot of plastic in my teeth. The roast was delicious, though frozen in the center. I don't want to seem ungrateful, but crunching through two inches of rock-hard beef is hardly my idea of a delicacy.
2:00pm:
Most unpleasant experience when my master returned home and was furious that I had not eaten the plastic wrap which had been covering my present. He kept pointing at the small pieces of Styrofoam and other debris and raving in a most irrational fashion. I'm sorry, but he should know that I can't eat that stuff; it makes my stomach upset. When he began rolling up a newspaper I realized he'd lost all reason and bolted for the front door, which was fortunately open just a crack.
4:00pm:
Spent the afternoon with the girls. A most productive day; I was able to mark territory for two blocks. "Drip 'til you drop" is our motto. We had a small snack at an outdoor cafe we like, with meat scraps and bread served out of circular containers with easily displaced lids. Ran into that rogue Sebastian, who lifted his leg with irritating nonchalance -- does he think I don't know about his obsession with Muffy, that snotty schnauzer from down the road? Last month there wasn't a male in the neighborhood who couldn't be found outside her fence, and Sebastian was at the head of the pack. I let him know I want nothing more to do with him.
5:00pm:
What a treat! On the way home a flock of ravens drew my attention to a squirrel that had been flattened by an automobile. After several days in the sun, the aroma was so delicious it made my nose quiver. I rolled in the wondrous fragrance for several minutes, and when I stood up I positively radiated eau de roadkill. Let Sebastian drool over Muffy -- he doesn't know what he's missing.
6:00pm:
Of all the times to get a bath! My master, still in a foul mood, made me stand outside in the chill air while he shampooed and rinsed me several times. Every time I shook the water from my fur he, too, became drenched, and in the end he was shivering. Why in the world does he do stuff like this?
9:00pm:
Time to sleep, though I am not allowed on the bed whenever anyone's home. Ah, the life of a dog.
an interview with a cane.
ok, this needs explaining. this is actually an inside joke about this one kid at my school who never uses his came the way that he was taught. i, being the smarrt alek, decided to post an interview with his came to the newspaper at the florida school for the deaf and the blind. let's just say it made the front page.
hope u all enjoy!
Robert W Kingett
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
CLICK. Sound of shifting microphone
Robert: hello everyone and I am here today to talk with Jason, the cane of Travis Brown. I am going to be asking him a variety of questions today. I am just wating for him to show up.
Sound of cane tapping closer and closer. Sound of chair being pulled across wood.
Robert: oh, hi! How are you doing this fine afternoon?
Cane: oh I am doing fine thank you. How long is this going to be? I have better people to go talk to.
Robert: not long I hope! Anyway, you look good.
Cane: I know I do boy! Make sure you quote me ok? I don’t want to sound like an idiot in that paper of yours. I want to show the ladies that I can sure roll when I want to. Know what I'm sayin’?
Robert: I will see what I can do.
Sound of cane tapping on wood excitedly.
Robert: I Wonna ask you some questions is that ok?
Cane: no. that is not OK. I came to this interview not to be interviewed! I assure you! I came just to sit and stare at the ceiling.
Robert: how long have you been used by Travis brown?
Cane: well I don’t rightly know sir, but I do remember the first day I was placed in his hands. You know what he does? He Rams me in a wall, but is this any wall? no! this is a female wall in Bryant hall! No “hi how are you?” oh no! I get to meat a wall my first day! Did you know that wall likes rock music and Brittany spears? I think my owner is being crazy on purpose. Wow he’s a wild sucker that one is. Ain’t no one like him in the world.
Robert: does he use you often now? I discern that he does not use you as much anymore. How does that make you feel?
Cane: lonely. I sit in a dark damp place all day and all night. I get tired of hearing a THUMP every 2 minutes when people slam lockers below and above his locker. I don’t know why he even rescued me from that dreaded shelter-
Robert: the mobility office at FSDB?
Cane taps crossly on wood floor.
Cane: yes, and don’t interrupt again! ok? Or else I will have to tap you on the leg raely really hard one day!
Robert: ok, sorry about that. When you are used, are you used well?
Cane: I suppose. I mean I am still together am I? granted I need an aspirin after he goes up or down some stairs, but other than that I am as happy as a pig in a deep glop of mud. Now, my previous owner, all I got to say is wow! People say she was weird. I do not think that at all. I just think she was Differently clued She was a large woman who seemed not so much dressed as upholstered. Her voice was the most obnoxious squeak I ever was tormented with. do you see why I like Travis better?
Robert: so you like Travis better?
Cane: Did you eat a brain tumor for breakfast? Yes I do. Do you see why that is? Next time please try not to be such a wiener-head. Ok?
Robert: ok. As a cane do you feel left out of activities that Travis does?
Cane: oh no! my owner has a favorite game he plays with me everyday. he likes to play whack the human every day. Its quite fun! I like setting a personal record I made of how many people I trip and make fall on the floor, and then after that I personally love trying to break that record as a sort of challenge I create on my own to make the day somewhat interesting. Do you know high my scores go? They range from 10 people to 32 people tripping over me the whole day. He doesn’t know it, but I listen in in all of his conversations.
Robert: yes that is quite interesting. What about in the classroom? What is your judgment of that environment?
Cane: A catastrophic success.
Robert: can you develop on that answer a bit more please?
Cane: let me ask you something. You ever been stepped on? By a shoe? A nasty shoe? A nasty shoe that has a snappy attitude to boot?
Robert: well, no, but-
Cane: it is atrocious let me tell you! When humans step on me with their dim witted sneakers all the shoes do is go “woops” and that’s it!
Robert: that’s why you are meant to be folded up right?
Cane: no. that’s why I am meant to be folded up, except he does not fold me up all the time. He seldom does this anyway, but it irks me so much. He leaves me open right in the walkway of the other humans where I am forced to be stepped on by some dim witted rebock. I like it when he folds me up and puts me in his desk. I am safe there, plus I just love listening to him try and take notes in science class. That boy abuses the poor brailer he works on all the time. Just pounding away not listening to the poor thing scream in agony!
Robert: what about in the lunch room?
Cane: he never ever takes me in here. he is utterly spiteful.
Robert: I wouldn’t say that about your owner.
Cane: you sure? I think you right. He treats me well, except in the school hallways. Other than that I am just so contented with Travis I don’t Wonna give him up. I care about him. I don’t Wonna see him get hurt in any way shape or form. Because if he dies I may get someone worse and I don’t want that to happen!
Cane taps happily. Sound of laughter.
Robert: you know that there are many other canes out there. Do you talk to any of them?
Cane: no. I have a job and I ain’t got any time to be chatting with people, however, there is this pouch that I would just love to…
Sound of throat clearing
Robert; anyway, what about on the highway or outside of campus? Do you feel that your safety is insured?
Cane: boy? Are You tryin’ to accuse Travis of something? Attempted murder-?
Robert: interrupts. no I do not think so.
Cane: ok. Ok. That’s fine with me I guess. I mean I like him so I think I will keep him.
Robert: well. That’s all the time I have today. I better go now-
Cane: good. Because I got a very important appointment To go to.
Robert: oh. With who?
Cane: the couch. He hates it when I am late.
Robert: “sigh” good day sir.
Sound of tape recorder switching off. End of transcript
hope u all enjoy!
Robert W Kingett
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
CLICK. Sound of shifting microphone
Robert: hello everyone and I am here today to talk with Jason, the cane of Travis Brown. I am going to be asking him a variety of questions today. I am just wating for him to show up.
Sound of cane tapping closer and closer. Sound of chair being pulled across wood.
Robert: oh, hi! How are you doing this fine afternoon?
Cane: oh I am doing fine thank you. How long is this going to be? I have better people to go talk to.
Robert: not long I hope! Anyway, you look good.
Cane: I know I do boy! Make sure you quote me ok? I don’t want to sound like an idiot in that paper of yours. I want to show the ladies that I can sure roll when I want to. Know what I'm sayin’?
Robert: I will see what I can do.
Sound of cane tapping on wood excitedly.
Robert: I Wonna ask you some questions is that ok?
Cane: no. that is not OK. I came to this interview not to be interviewed! I assure you! I came just to sit and stare at the ceiling.
Robert: how long have you been used by Travis brown?
Cane: well I don’t rightly know sir, but I do remember the first day I was placed in his hands. You know what he does? He Rams me in a wall, but is this any wall? no! this is a female wall in Bryant hall! No “hi how are you?” oh no! I get to meat a wall my first day! Did you know that wall likes rock music and Brittany spears? I think my owner is being crazy on purpose. Wow he’s a wild sucker that one is. Ain’t no one like him in the world.
Robert: does he use you often now? I discern that he does not use you as much anymore. How does that make you feel?
Cane: lonely. I sit in a dark damp place all day and all night. I get tired of hearing a THUMP every 2 minutes when people slam lockers below and above his locker. I don’t know why he even rescued me from that dreaded shelter-
Robert: the mobility office at FSDB?
Cane taps crossly on wood floor.
Cane: yes, and don’t interrupt again! ok? Or else I will have to tap you on the leg raely really hard one day!
Robert: ok, sorry about that. When you are used, are you used well?
Cane: I suppose. I mean I am still together am I? granted I need an aspirin after he goes up or down some stairs, but other than that I am as happy as a pig in a deep glop of mud. Now, my previous owner, all I got to say is wow! People say she was weird. I do not think that at all. I just think she was Differently clued She was a large woman who seemed not so much dressed as upholstered. Her voice was the most obnoxious squeak I ever was tormented with. do you see why I like Travis better?
Robert: so you like Travis better?
Cane: Did you eat a brain tumor for breakfast? Yes I do. Do you see why that is? Next time please try not to be such a wiener-head. Ok?
Robert: ok. As a cane do you feel left out of activities that Travis does?
Cane: oh no! my owner has a favorite game he plays with me everyday. he likes to play whack the human every day. Its quite fun! I like setting a personal record I made of how many people I trip and make fall on the floor, and then after that I personally love trying to break that record as a sort of challenge I create on my own to make the day somewhat interesting. Do you know high my scores go? They range from 10 people to 32 people tripping over me the whole day. He doesn’t know it, but I listen in in all of his conversations.
Robert: yes that is quite interesting. What about in the classroom? What is your judgment of that environment?
Cane: A catastrophic success.
Robert: can you develop on that answer a bit more please?
Cane: let me ask you something. You ever been stepped on? By a shoe? A nasty shoe? A nasty shoe that has a snappy attitude to boot?
Robert: well, no, but-
Cane: it is atrocious let me tell you! When humans step on me with their dim witted sneakers all the shoes do is go “woops” and that’s it!
Robert: that’s why you are meant to be folded up right?
Cane: no. that’s why I am meant to be folded up, except he does not fold me up all the time. He seldom does this anyway, but it irks me so much. He leaves me open right in the walkway of the other humans where I am forced to be stepped on by some dim witted rebock. I like it when he folds me up and puts me in his desk. I am safe there, plus I just love listening to him try and take notes in science class. That boy abuses the poor brailer he works on all the time. Just pounding away not listening to the poor thing scream in agony!
Robert: what about in the lunch room?
Cane: he never ever takes me in here. he is utterly spiteful.
Robert: I wouldn’t say that about your owner.
Cane: you sure? I think you right. He treats me well, except in the school hallways. Other than that I am just so contented with Travis I don’t Wonna give him up. I care about him. I don’t Wonna see him get hurt in any way shape or form. Because if he dies I may get someone worse and I don’t want that to happen!
Cane taps happily. Sound of laughter.
Robert: you know that there are many other canes out there. Do you talk to any of them?
Cane: no. I have a job and I ain’t got any time to be chatting with people, however, there is this pouch that I would just love to…
Sound of throat clearing
Robert; anyway, what about on the highway or outside of campus? Do you feel that your safety is insured?
Cane: boy? Are You tryin’ to accuse Travis of something? Attempted murder-?
Robert: interrupts. no I do not think so.
Cane: ok. Ok. That’s fine with me I guess. I mean I like him so I think I will keep him.
Robert: well. That’s all the time I have today. I better go now-
Cane: good. Because I got a very important appointment To go to.
Robert: oh. With who?
Cane: the couch. He hates it when I am late.
Robert: “sigh” good day sir.
Sound of tape recorder switching off. End of transcript
a trip ends it all. a poem about my football team.
ok, this needs some explaining. some month in the year 2006, i went to go see FSDB play against some other team, the next day i had to write it for english, and this is what i came up with. my teacher to this day is still showing off this poem... hope u all enjoy!
I was irate about watching the dragons seam so week
After the game all I wanted to do is weep.
The sky was pitch black in the dead of night
You couldn’t even see a shooting star take flight.
The team played well
Then it seamed someone rang the goof up bell
In the last minute of the final quarter we all watched as that ball took flight.
The crowd stared up as I did
Wondering who would start the bid.
The fearfulness that crept up our players backs was so great
I felt like they would drop dead sooner if not late
The ball descended as though a hand was the guide
I swear in the crowd their came a change in tide.
The receiver ran down the field with a face drenched in sweat.
All around me I heard the people placing that imamate bet.
The clock struck down, 5 minutes, 4 ,5 2, 1.
Our team was behind only a point that seamed like one.
The player that was chasing the ball
Made the move that would end it all
He ran up the field thinking our team may have won
Then his stupid shoe had to come undone
With a oomph he lay on his back looking up at the moonlit filled night.
Only to watch the ball soar over his head and continue its flight.
His feeble hand stretched hoping his fingers would latch
But couldn’t make the catch
Bounce bounce the ball went
Into the hands that weren’t meant
To have the ball in his possession
The boy from the other team ran in quick progression.
The crowd gave a collective BOO
We were all thinking what on earth did he do?
Fly fly the players went as they ran after this immortal guy. God seamed to be laughing high in the sky.
The clock struck down 4, 3, 2, 1,
We all groaned as the other teams points started to come.
The game was over and we hadn’t won
Because the score, on that moonlit heartrending night was 6 to 21
I was irate about watching the dragons seam so week
After the game all I wanted to do is weep.
The sky was pitch black in the dead of night
You couldn’t even see a shooting star take flight.
The team played well
Then it seamed someone rang the goof up bell
In the last minute of the final quarter we all watched as that ball took flight.
The crowd stared up as I did
Wondering who would start the bid.
The fearfulness that crept up our players backs was so great
I felt like they would drop dead sooner if not late
The ball descended as though a hand was the guide
I swear in the crowd their came a change in tide.
The receiver ran down the field with a face drenched in sweat.
All around me I heard the people placing that imamate bet.
The clock struck down, 5 minutes, 4 ,5 2, 1.
Our team was behind only a point that seamed like one.
The player that was chasing the ball
Made the move that would end it all
He ran up the field thinking our team may have won
Then his stupid shoe had to come undone
With a oomph he lay on his back looking up at the moonlit filled night.
Only to watch the ball soar over his head and continue its flight.
His feeble hand stretched hoping his fingers would latch
But couldn’t make the catch
Bounce bounce the ball went
Into the hands that weren’t meant
To have the ball in his possession
The boy from the other team ran in quick progression.
The crowd gave a collective BOO
We were all thinking what on earth did he do?
Fly fly the players went as they ran after this immortal guy. God seamed to be laughing high in the sky.
The clock struck down 4, 3, 2, 1,
We all groaned as the other teams points started to come.
The game was over and we hadn’t won
Because the score, on that moonlit heartrending night was 6 to 21
who would i spend the whole day with? a comedy english essay.
English essay.
If I had a choice of spending the day with somebody, I would most definitely pick somebody who I like best. Myself. I like myself. In fact, I cannot get enough of myself. When I take myself on a car trip, I can always chat with myself and I know that I will listen. I also can never argue with myself because I always agree with myself no matter what.
I think I would rather hang with myself than anybody else because I would not have to worry about doing things the other person doesn’t wonna do. I could be my own boss and venture where I please. I and I would take a lovely stroll down the sidewalk, just the two of us. Me and myself would go to the park and read. Finally! I do not have to do what other people want me to do. Another reason I like myself better is that I understand myself. I know what I want and what I do not want. If I go to an ice cream store during the day and buy something, I will not have to endure the peer pressure that is forced upon other kids my age. I will not have to suffice to a flavor that nobody else wants. I can pick my own. I will not have a person pick up some random flavor and ecstatically say, “Try this! It’s so good!”
Personally, I do not like that at all. Let me get what I came here to get. If I go to the movies during the day with myself, I can buy a whole bag of popcorn and a drink and not share it with anybody. I can talk to myself about anything I want. Therefore, overall I think that that is the person who I would rather spend the day with. Other people can be too greedy, or bossy, or winy, or just a spoiled brat in pretty wrapping paper. In addition, if I go to a bookstore (which is construed as the library for me) and I get a book. I will not have any kids say that I got a good book or a bad book. I do not want people telling me “try this! It has more vampires. I hate it when they say that I should try a book just because it has a cool cover. If I take myself, then I will argue with me. I do not care what myself gets, because me and myself like the same exact thing.
Another good thing about me is that I can tell myself anything. I can blab and blab on and on about my terrible day. I can tell myself all about my day and I know that he will always listen. Some people might think of me as rude, bitter, and sarcastic. I do not. I love myself after this glamorous day of hanging out with myself; I would not have to worry about taking myself home. I and I would come through the door and we would eat at the dinner table together. Once again, I would talk to myself. Just to pass the time. After that, I would tuck myself into bed, and read stories from a Stephen king book I most liked. After about three pages of that, I would pat myself on the head, then go to sleep. Knowing that I would still be there in the morning.
If I had a choice of spending the day with somebody, I would most definitely pick somebody who I like best. Myself. I like myself. In fact, I cannot get enough of myself. When I take myself on a car trip, I can always chat with myself and I know that I will listen. I also can never argue with myself because I always agree with myself no matter what.
I think I would rather hang with myself than anybody else because I would not have to worry about doing things the other person doesn’t wonna do. I could be my own boss and venture where I please. I and I would take a lovely stroll down the sidewalk, just the two of us. Me and myself would go to the park and read. Finally! I do not have to do what other people want me to do. Another reason I like myself better is that I understand myself. I know what I want and what I do not want. If I go to an ice cream store during the day and buy something, I will not have to endure the peer pressure that is forced upon other kids my age. I will not have to suffice to a flavor that nobody else wants. I can pick my own. I will not have a person pick up some random flavor and ecstatically say, “Try this! It’s so good!”
Personally, I do not like that at all. Let me get what I came here to get. If I go to the movies during the day with myself, I can buy a whole bag of popcorn and a drink and not share it with anybody. I can talk to myself about anything I want. Therefore, overall I think that that is the person who I would rather spend the day with. Other people can be too greedy, or bossy, or winy, or just a spoiled brat in pretty wrapping paper. In addition, if I go to a bookstore (which is construed as the library for me) and I get a book. I will not have any kids say that I got a good book or a bad book. I do not want people telling me “try this! It has more vampires. I hate it when they say that I should try a book just because it has a cool cover. If I take myself, then I will argue with me. I do not care what myself gets, because me and myself like the same exact thing.
Another good thing about me is that I can tell myself anything. I can blab and blab on and on about my terrible day. I can tell myself all about my day and I know that he will always listen. Some people might think of me as rude, bitter, and sarcastic. I do not. I love myself after this glamorous day of hanging out with myself; I would not have to worry about taking myself home. I and I would come through the door and we would eat at the dinner table together. Once again, I would talk to myself. Just to pass the time. After that, I would tuck myself into bed, and read stories from a Stephen king book I most liked. After about three pages of that, I would pat myself on the head, then go to sleep. Knowing that I would still be there in the morning.
letter from an angry stomach.
This was just a satire I created purely out of boredom hope you enjoy it.
Ok, let’s get one thing straight here. You don’t know me but you should. You should know who I am because why? Because I am your stomach. Yes folks, I am you’re partially ticked off stomach. And I have a few complaints. That breakfast I get is great in the morning, a pop tart is awesome, but do you honestly think it fills me up? Uh no! Why do you think I yell at you as soon as you get to school or work? Did you think my screams of utter anguish were screams of joy? No idiot they are screams of hunger! Of starvation! Of famished hours!
I do admit that I have grown accustomed to chocolate though, since that is the only thing you can feed me. You know? You’re a terrible parent. You can’t even take better care of me? Don’t you know that chocolates have a substance that is frequently shoved into you’re blood stream, and makes you huge? Well in case you didn’t its called saturated fat. By the way that idiot can’t even count! Or break food down into smaller chunks I know because all he does is multiply like rabbits trying to make you huge. That’s fine with me you know, if you want to ignore me I understand, just at least try and feed me healthy food so that way I could function properly and not have to yell my lungs out at you because I am hungry. You don’t hear me anyway. I think you just ignore me on purpose. I think that you think it’s a game. You try and torture me don’t you? Like this one time you went on what is called a roller coaster. Wow. If I wanted to be a gymnastics star I would try out for the flip oh thon, but oh no. apparently you love to make me flip, so I have to retaliate somehow don’t I? After I retaliate with the regurgitated food I spit out your mouth you curse me! Um hello I was trying to keep you from having a serious cramp in the future! Gee, no one cares what I do anymore.
I do have a favorite meal though, that lovely ice cream with chocolate chips and chocolate syrup and sprinkles. Dude you have no idea how much bliss I am in after that! But he is a bit of a winy baby though. When I try and digest him he tries to bore me to death with his quotes from Shakespeare, and sir Arthur Coonan Doyle, then I get ticked and scream “never more!” and I shoot all my acid at him in an attempt to make him shut up. Most of the time it works, but you have no idea how much grief I am in. especially when you like to not feed me for long periods of time. That’s fine, when you die from starvation I die too! And I don't know about you but I would like to go to my high school prom.
What I honestly do not like is people giving me food, and then making me give it back! That hurts my feelings you know? I wanted that chocolate chip cookie with sprinkles on it! What do I have to go out and dress in a ninja suit and sneak into the fridge and use my awesome acid to latch on to the door and use then hunt tactics to swiftly sneak inside the fridge? Then eat the cookie? No I shouldn’t, but you are driving me to that you know? You are, and I hate it.
In short buddy, you have a lot of things you need to straight, and I mean quick! Do you honestly want me to give you indigestion again? If you don’t behave I will be forced to. I mean it, no really I do.
So, make me happy. Keep food in me, keep me calm, no roller coasters, feed me things that are healthy by the way, and not cry baby foods. Thank you!
Ok, let’s get one thing straight here. You don’t know me but you should. You should know who I am because why? Because I am your stomach. Yes folks, I am you’re partially ticked off stomach. And I have a few complaints. That breakfast I get is great in the morning, a pop tart is awesome, but do you honestly think it fills me up? Uh no! Why do you think I yell at you as soon as you get to school or work? Did you think my screams of utter anguish were screams of joy? No idiot they are screams of hunger! Of starvation! Of famished hours!
I do admit that I have grown accustomed to chocolate though, since that is the only thing you can feed me. You know? You’re a terrible parent. You can’t even take better care of me? Don’t you know that chocolates have a substance that is frequently shoved into you’re blood stream, and makes you huge? Well in case you didn’t its called saturated fat. By the way that idiot can’t even count! Or break food down into smaller chunks I know because all he does is multiply like rabbits trying to make you huge. That’s fine with me you know, if you want to ignore me I understand, just at least try and feed me healthy food so that way I could function properly and not have to yell my lungs out at you because I am hungry. You don’t hear me anyway. I think you just ignore me on purpose. I think that you think it’s a game. You try and torture me don’t you? Like this one time you went on what is called a roller coaster. Wow. If I wanted to be a gymnastics star I would try out for the flip oh thon, but oh no. apparently you love to make me flip, so I have to retaliate somehow don’t I? After I retaliate with the regurgitated food I spit out your mouth you curse me! Um hello I was trying to keep you from having a serious cramp in the future! Gee, no one cares what I do anymore.
I do have a favorite meal though, that lovely ice cream with chocolate chips and chocolate syrup and sprinkles. Dude you have no idea how much bliss I am in after that! But he is a bit of a winy baby though. When I try and digest him he tries to bore me to death with his quotes from Shakespeare, and sir Arthur Coonan Doyle, then I get ticked and scream “never more!” and I shoot all my acid at him in an attempt to make him shut up. Most of the time it works, but you have no idea how much grief I am in. especially when you like to not feed me for long periods of time. That’s fine, when you die from starvation I die too! And I don't know about you but I would like to go to my high school prom.
What I honestly do not like is people giving me food, and then making me give it back! That hurts my feelings you know? I wanted that chocolate chip cookie with sprinkles on it! What do I have to go out and dress in a ninja suit and sneak into the fridge and use my awesome acid to latch on to the door and use then hunt tactics to swiftly sneak inside the fridge? Then eat the cookie? No I shouldn’t, but you are driving me to that you know? You are, and I hate it.
In short buddy, you have a lot of things you need to straight, and I mean quick! Do you honestly want me to give you indigestion again? If you don’t behave I will be forced to. I mean it, no really I do.
So, make me happy. Keep food in me, keep me calm, no roller coasters, feed me things that are healthy by the way, and not cry baby foods. Thank you!
stranded on an island.
A/N: This is a story that I had to write for my English class last year. The underlined words are words that I was required to use. Everything else was up to me. I hope you enjoy my insane creation! XD
Stranded on an Island! Oh, the Horror!
I woke up after I had been mysteriously knocked out while driving in my car. I looked at my surroundings, and found myself on the edge of a cliff. Behind me was what appeared to be a tropical rain forest, and in front of me, at the bottom of the cliff, was the ocean, the waves raging and crashing against the cliff face. So…where was I? I noticed a sign to my right. It read, “You are on an island.”
“Whoa!” I said. “You answered my question! Are you a question-answering sign?! Quick, what’s your favorite color?” I waited, but the sign remained silent. I thought about my situation. Well, I’m on an island. That’s no big deal…I looked off at the coast to see what was once possibly a luxurious yacht, destroyed and wreaked on jagged rocks. Okay, umm, it’s in the water, so as long as I’m on land, I’m safe, it’s only an island…I looked behind me at the forest to see a jaguar in a tree hunting a small rodent. It stalked it quietly, then…POUNCE! It grabbed the rodent in its claws and silenced it before it could make more than a small squeak. It ripped the flesh off of its prey savagely and tore at it as it ate. It looked up at me momentarily with dark, hungry eyes. My eye twitched. Oh God, just an island, no big deal, I’ll be fine, it’s fine, it’s just an island…I was panicking. My common sense blocked by my panic, I headed into the forest. After all, when you’re stranded on a strange island, that’s the safest place to be, right? The middle of it?
Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, it was night time. I stumbled clumsily around the forest, turning in alarm at every sound I heard. I quickly hurried along, realizing I had no clue where I was going. After hearing another sound, I stopped moving and faced where it had been. I screamed out, “I know you’re out there!!” …No response. “I can tell, I can hear you! You’re not being very stealthy, you know!!” I picked up a rock and threw it. It felt good…so I did it again. Pretty soon I was tossing rocks every which way, my arms flailing in the air like an idiot. One of my rocks hit a tree, and a banana fell from it. I then realized how hungry I was. “Food!!” I shouted, tackling the banana before it could run away.
I continued walking through the jungle as I ate my banana, when a bizarre sight met my eyes. It was a monster! It was a huge black mass, and it was heading straight at me! Instinctively, I threw the banana at it, and missed. It fell over and died.
I walked up to its lifeless body and saw something white sticking out of it. I pulled it out and found it to be an I.D. card. It said, “Name: Mr. Monster-Age: 29 and one half.” I took the card and put it in my pocket. Maybe I could use it for health insurance. I looked up in the sky and saw a house. “Yes!” I thought. “Shelter!” I climbed up the invisible ladder to the front door of the house and knocked.
After about a minute, the door opened. A man who appeared to be in his thirties was facing me. As soon as he saw me, his face took on a very serious expression. “Are you…who I think you are?” He asked me.
I nodded. “Yes, I’m with the American F.B.I. I’ve come to inspect your swimming pool. We have rumors that you sometimes…swim, in it.” I couldn’t suppress a shudder.
“I-I see,” he muttered, looking sheepish. “Could you maybe, err, come back tomorrow?”
I sighed. “Fine. But, you must tell me, what way do I take to get off of this island?”
He pointed in a random direction. “That way.” He said confidentially. “There should be a trail that you can follow.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling slightly, and I climbed down the ladder and headed off in the direction he had pointed in.
I easily found the trail and started skipping along it. I looked at the wilderness that surrounded it. Unfortunately, while I was distracted, I walked right into a puddle of quicksand. I started struggling, of course, then remembered that you weren’t supposed to. I sat silently in horror, when out of the blue, the sign from earlier magically appeared. “You must struggle.” It read. “That is the only way to escape this particular thing of quicksand.”
You lied to me!!” I yelled at it. “You said you weren’t a question-answering sign!”
The words on its surface reformed. “If I recall, I never actually said that. I just didn’t answer your question.”
“Well, why not?!” I asked, flabbergasted.
It reformed again, now reading, “shrug I don’t have a favorite color.”
I growled, but started struggling nonetheless. The more I struggled, the roomier the sand felt, until finally, I could wriggle out and lay gasping on the forest floor. I looked up, but saw that the sign had gone.
All the way through the rest of the trail, I cried, sad that the sign had left me so heartlessly. After some more walking, I reached the end of the trail. All it was was another cliff, with a sign planted firmly in front of it. At first, I got excited, but then I realized that this wasn’t the same sign; it was just a boring, ordinary sign. It said, “By now, you should be depressed. That is why there is this cliff.”
I sighed. So, they wanted me to do the obvious thing, hmm? Well, whatever. I ran the rest of the way to the cliff, then jumped off. When I was almost to the bottom, I focused my mind, and started the familiar process of flying. Once in the air, I started to fly over the ocean, towards home.
……Well, what did you think I was planning to do with the cliff? I did the absolute most normal thing ever; the sign obviously meant to fly off of it.
As I flew, I sang, even though no one else could hear me. “My bonnie flies over the ocean. My bonnie flies over the sea…”
the dangers of being a librarian!
Most people don’t realize just how dangerous being a librarian is. Seriously, think about it! Those poor people have to alphabetize books, battle avalanches, and read to little children. The first one is a dangerous and secret art that is very difficult to master, as sometimes those books just don’t want to be in alphabetical order. And, of course, the books whose author’s names begin with “Z” tend to revolt a lot. Librarian’s second main task is fighting avalanches. Sometimes one of those books decides that they really don’t like their spot on the shelf, and incite a rebellion. And then comes the most dangerous task of all: reading to little children. I always feel incredibly sorry for the librarian who picks the short straw, and has to perform this dreaded task. You see, the problem is that little children are very picky and opinionated readers, and it is quite common for the designated story-telling librarian to stagger off to a therapy session covered with rotten tomatoes. Yes, being a librarian is very dangerous, and not to be taken lightly. It is definitely not a job for the faint of heart.
a note... or is it?
his people, is y u should never comit suicide!
f you’re reading this, then that means I’ve either died a messy, gory death or you’re a hacker. Or I went insane and decided to share the crazy parody of a suicide note with the public. Before I start, I must put in the standard disclaimer: I am not suicidal, never have been, never will be. This is coming from a girl who wants to be immortal. Also, disclaimer #2: this parody is meant to show people how stupid, self-centered, and meaningless suicide really is and keep them from committing suicide. If it weren’t, I wouldn’t be writing this note because people would think I were suicidal, which would make me depressed. Depression happens to be a big motivating factor for suicide, you know. But at the danger of this turning into a letter about a parody of a suicide note instead of a parody of a suicide note, I will get on with the matter at hand.
In any case, you shouldn’t be reading this. Not while I’m still alive, anyways. That means I failed. If I were a suicide bomber, that would be very bad news. If I’m just a random idiot, then that’s probably very good news, except for the hospital bill. If I’m dead, then what the hell do I care? Just please clean up the mess on your way out. I hate the thought of having random strangers poke through my things. I have enough secrets in my life, so don’t go about revealing them, thank you very much. Of course, if you’ve gotten this far, you’ve probably already found them. Send that stash of chocolate under my bed after me, will you?
Of course, you also shouldn’t be reading this if you know or knew someone dead, especially if they decided to off themselves. After all, death is a big factor in people’s lives. However, if you’ve gotten this far, you’re probably already outraged. I suggest you either stop reading, plug your ears, or kindly click the little red button with the white ‘X’ at the top right-hand side of the screen and pretend you never saw this file. If you don’t, then just keep reading. Please try not to share this document with other people, especially lawyers and CSI. This does not legally constitute an affidavit of self-euthanasia. Nor should you take this letter seriously. If you do, I suggest you go out somewhere and find a sense of humor.
Before you waste your time wondering why this happened (or did not happen, as it may be), let me tell you that the world is a stupid place full of people who don’t understand me and who don’t respect me. Why I didn’t just go see the school nurse, a psychiatrist, or my best friend, I don’t know. Of course, I probably don’t care at this point. I’m sick and tired of living in this world full of betrayals, backstabbing, and fakeness. Why I didn’t try to change it for the better and left this world full of betrayal, backstabbing, and fakeness, I don’t particularly want to think about it. And why didn’t I just off the guys who were betraying, backstabbing, and lying in the first place? Or maybe I just have a morbid sense of humor. If so, why didn’t I just become a comedian? If you found me, I’m probably drunk, high, or stupid, legally or illegally, so I can’t think straight. That might account for my thought discrepancies. …Why am I writing so eloquently, then? And why am I using ‘eloguently’ when I’m drunk or high? Stupidity no one can cure, but it factors in here as well.
I’m also so pissed off at the world I could destroy it all, but that would be stupid since then no one would be able to read the letter I’ve written. Yeah, that sounds about right…. DON’T READ THIS LETTER! If you haven’t just randomly scrolled down and noticed the bolded font, then it’s too late. Otherwise, if you have and are still reading this part, please kindly click the little red button with the white ‘X’ inscribed in it on the top right-hand corner of the screen and pretend you never saw this file. Under no circumstances is printing it a preferred or necessary action. This computer doesn’t connect to the printer sitting three inches away from it anyways, so ha!
Sincerely,
Ann Idiot
P.S. I don’t want to be cremated. I want to be put in a cryogenics facility where they can revive me later.
P.P.S. As I mentioned earlier, this letter does not form a legal affidavit of self-euthanasia. Therefore, there is a likely chance that someone decided to off me instead. How depressing. It makes me suicidal just thinking about it. Just make sure you check this case thoroughly (hence why you should ignore this confusing letter), figure out whodunit, and go on with the rest of your life, however short or long that may be. I’d stay away from that cheese on the desk next to this computer if I were you. If you’re reading this, it’s probably about to go bad. And it was expensive, too.
P.P.P.S. Death hurts like hell. DON’T DO IT! As mothers and other wise people say: ‘Do as I say, not as I do.’ Besides, who’ll populate the Earth after you die? Certainly not me.
f you’re reading this, then that means I’ve either died a messy, gory death or you’re a hacker. Or I went insane and decided to share the crazy parody of a suicide note with the public. Before I start, I must put in the standard disclaimer: I am not suicidal, never have been, never will be. This is coming from a girl who wants to be immortal. Also, disclaimer #2: this parody is meant to show people how stupid, self-centered, and meaningless suicide really is and keep them from committing suicide. If it weren’t, I wouldn’t be writing this note because people would think I were suicidal, which would make me depressed. Depression happens to be a big motivating factor for suicide, you know. But at the danger of this turning into a letter about a parody of a suicide note instead of a parody of a suicide note, I will get on with the matter at hand.
In any case, you shouldn’t be reading this. Not while I’m still alive, anyways. That means I failed. If I were a suicide bomber, that would be very bad news. If I’m just a random idiot, then that’s probably very good news, except for the hospital bill. If I’m dead, then what the hell do I care? Just please clean up the mess on your way out. I hate the thought of having random strangers poke through my things. I have enough secrets in my life, so don’t go about revealing them, thank you very much. Of course, if you’ve gotten this far, you’ve probably already found them. Send that stash of chocolate under my bed after me, will you?
Of course, you also shouldn’t be reading this if you know or knew someone dead, especially if they decided to off themselves. After all, death is a big factor in people’s lives. However, if you’ve gotten this far, you’re probably already outraged. I suggest you either stop reading, plug your ears, or kindly click the little red button with the white ‘X’ at the top right-hand side of the screen and pretend you never saw this file. If you don’t, then just keep reading. Please try not to share this document with other people, especially lawyers and CSI. This does not legally constitute an affidavit of self-euthanasia. Nor should you take this letter seriously. If you do, I suggest you go out somewhere and find a sense of humor.
Before you waste your time wondering why this happened (or did not happen, as it may be), let me tell you that the world is a stupid place full of people who don’t understand me and who don’t respect me. Why I didn’t just go see the school nurse, a psychiatrist, or my best friend, I don’t know. Of course, I probably don’t care at this point. I’m sick and tired of living in this world full of betrayals, backstabbing, and fakeness. Why I didn’t try to change it for the better and left this world full of betrayal, backstabbing, and fakeness, I don’t particularly want to think about it. And why didn’t I just off the guys who were betraying, backstabbing, and lying in the first place? Or maybe I just have a morbid sense of humor. If so, why didn’t I just become a comedian? If you found me, I’m probably drunk, high, or stupid, legally or illegally, so I can’t think straight. That might account for my thought discrepancies. …Why am I writing so eloquently, then? And why am I using ‘eloguently’ when I’m drunk or high? Stupidity no one can cure, but it factors in here as well.
I’m also so pissed off at the world I could destroy it all, but that would be stupid since then no one would be able to read the letter I’ve written. Yeah, that sounds about right…. DON’T READ THIS LETTER! If you haven’t just randomly scrolled down and noticed the bolded font, then it’s too late. Otherwise, if you have and are still reading this part, please kindly click the little red button with the white ‘X’ inscribed in it on the top right-hand corner of the screen and pretend you never saw this file. Under no circumstances is printing it a preferred or necessary action. This computer doesn’t connect to the printer sitting three inches away from it anyways, so ha!
Sincerely,
Ann Idiot
P.S. I don’t want to be cremated. I want to be put in a cryogenics facility where they can revive me later.
P.P.S. As I mentioned earlier, this letter does not form a legal affidavit of self-euthanasia. Therefore, there is a likely chance that someone decided to off me instead. How depressing. It makes me suicidal just thinking about it. Just make sure you check this case thoroughly (hence why you should ignore this confusing letter), figure out whodunit, and go on with the rest of your life, however short or long that may be. I’d stay away from that cheese on the desk next to this computer if I were you. If you’re reading this, it’s probably about to go bad. And it was expensive, too.
P.P.P.S. Death hurts like hell. DON’T DO IT! As mothers and other wise people say: ‘Do as I say, not as I do.’ Besides, who’ll populate the Earth after you die? Certainly not me.
a day with coffie.
Experimentation with Coffee
Sitting there quietly at the table, anticipating the oncoming taste of coffee as it slipped sweetly past my lips, I felt fear. I had never tasted coffee in my life, besides the nasty black residue that is Turkish coffee, which nearly made me throw away my guts to the cobblestone street below my feet.
I sat there sitting besides my friend and offered to go to get a drink; she accepted, flying out of her seat with exuberance that could have knocked down the whole building. Jumping slightly from this show of excitement, we got up and decided that it was time for me to lose my coffee virginity.
We walked quickly over to the coffee machines placed neatly on a table with an assortment of creamers and sugars in cheap Styrofoam bowls.
About this time I am nearly jumping out of my skin, because due to my last experience with coffee, I have had a fear of it.
Anyways, the coffee poured hot and smooth out of the dispenser and into the even cheaper looking Styrofoam cup. My mouth was watering but still the fear help strong.
My friend gave me the instructions:
- 3 spoons of creamer
- 2 ½ spoons of sugar
Scratch that: 5 spoons of sugar.
So, the coffee is in the cup, creamed up and ready to be consumed, except it’s burning hot I need to wait. Damnit.
The coffee is finally cool.
I take the first sip.
HOLY MOTHER OF THE PANDA BEARS! This black substance that has a canny rezemblance to diarrhea is good.
I’m totally flipping out and the coffee begins to go to my head. It doesn’t just do that…it explodes out of me…not like that you sick minded reader…
It’s amazing. The sweet 5 spoons of sugar and the warmth it speads through my whole body. Love. That’s the word to describe it.
LOVE.
Half an hour later, I’m on my third cup and trying to get my other friend to kiss me.
Just lying there and trying to just get a kiss.
It doesn’t work.
I go home and still as I write this, the coffee till hasn’t worn off.
The End
Sitting there quietly at the table, anticipating the oncoming taste of coffee as it slipped sweetly past my lips, I felt fear. I had never tasted coffee in my life, besides the nasty black residue that is Turkish coffee, which nearly made me throw away my guts to the cobblestone street below my feet.
I sat there sitting besides my friend and offered to go to get a drink; she accepted, flying out of her seat with exuberance that could have knocked down the whole building. Jumping slightly from this show of excitement, we got up and decided that it was time for me to lose my coffee virginity.
We walked quickly over to the coffee machines placed neatly on a table with an assortment of creamers and sugars in cheap Styrofoam bowls.
About this time I am nearly jumping out of my skin, because due to my last experience with coffee, I have had a fear of it.
Anyways, the coffee poured hot and smooth out of the dispenser and into the even cheaper looking Styrofoam cup. My mouth was watering but still the fear help strong.
My friend gave me the instructions:
- 3 spoons of creamer
- 2 ½ spoons of sugar
Scratch that: 5 spoons of sugar.
So, the coffee is in the cup, creamed up and ready to be consumed, except it’s burning hot I need to wait. Damnit.
The coffee is finally cool.
I take the first sip.
HOLY MOTHER OF THE PANDA BEARS! This black substance that has a canny rezemblance to diarrhea is good.
I’m totally flipping out and the coffee begins to go to my head. It doesn’t just do that…it explodes out of me…not like that you sick minded reader…
It’s amazing. The sweet 5 spoons of sugar and the warmth it speads through my whole body. Love. That’s the word to describe it.
LOVE.
Half an hour later, I’m on my third cup and trying to get my other friend to kiss me.
Just lying there and trying to just get a kiss.
It doesn’t work.
I go home and still as I write this, the coffee till hasn’t worn off.
The End
spam fun, making fun of spam mail.
I have a Hotmail account. Yes, startling revelation I know. The thing is though, I only got it so I can use MSN, so I never check the mail I get from it. This also means that no-one in the whole world knows my hotmail address.
Except, it would seem, the spam merchants.
I should never have to check my Hotmail inbox, I know I'm not going to get anything worthwhile, but the constant reminders whenever I get onto MSN that my inbox contains 153 billion unread messages kind of irks my tidy mind, so I have to go in and delete the whole entire folder, one after another, and there are 45 pages worth of this crap!. This does so tick me off. I'm so ticked off with the whole thing I think I'll take a few examples and take the crap out of them. Enjoy.
>From : mike_sullivan@northumbria.com.
>Subject : CONGRATULATIONS! YOU WON!!!
This, I think, is the most recent mail I got, utilising, as you can clearly see, devious tactics to grab my attention. The 'mike_sullivan' address makes me think this came from a genuine person as opposed to a steam-powered spam-distributing machine, and the 'CONGRATULATIONS! YOU WON!!!' part would surely catch my eye if I had entered any competitions in the recent past. However, since I haven't entered any competitions in the recent past, and since I don't know anyone who uses three exclamation marks in a row, I was not fooled, u idiots!
>"CONGRATULATIONS! YOU WON!!!
>----------------------------------------------------------------
>YOUR FREE MEMBERSHIP, FREE VACATION, AND FREE CELL PHONE !!!
>Looking for a secure and legitimate online home business?
>One that WILL bring steady, dependable monthly checks
>EVERY month and in the shortest amount of time??"
So how does the free vacation and cell phone come into this again? i mean, i may have missed something there, but surely no one could have passed this up!
>"How about if we gave you info on a FREE VACATION and a
>FREE CELL PHONE just for looking over our FREE info
>about this terrific opportunity to work from home as
>your own boss?"
Oh, I see. so your gonna over use the word free now? a little bit spastic are we? let's have a free party! at a free house! in a free room with a free table and free plates and free drinks. perhaps a lot of free people could check my free body out and i can have some free tongue action, i guess my free advice was freely screwd up and wrong.
>"What a GREAT OFFER!"
It kinds of undermines the statement that they had to say this themselves. Put these in the words of some other idiot who has his computer full of Trojans because he just had to try and get a free Xbox 360. and you've got your very own infomercial, but say it yourself and it just seems ridiculous. This is like Paul McCartney saying "Yes, I believe Paul McCartney's latest album is quite brilliant."
>From : Easily_Attract_Women
>Subject : Get all the women you want easily
It's that kind of impersonal e-mail address that just stops me from adhering to these people. They should take some lessons from Mr. mike_sullivan, above.
>"Limited Supply And Selling Out Fast
>Try This POTENT Pheromone Formula That Helps Attract Women"
I Already Figured It Attracts Women, MATEY, You Told Me Twice In Your Return Address And Subject LINE. And Ease Off The Capital LETTERS. It should be noted that I have turned on the Spam filters on my MSN inbox and this lot still made it through, so either the filters don't work or they're very easily fooled.
>"Because of all its exacting and expensive ingredients,
>Pheromone Concentrate cannot be mass-produced.
>Only a limited supply is left and it may not be available weeks from now.
>It's selling out at a record pace, re-orders are flooding in."
Oh well, suppose I'd better place an immediate order for your particular brand of funny-smelling deodorant if they're flying off the shelves this fast. Something tells me that either this company's CEO and all his mates have boxes full of the stuff in their garages, or they're lying through their extremely attractive teeth.
>"Don't lose out. Get all the women you want easily,
>excite your mate like never before...GUARANTEED!"
Excite my mate? What am I now, a panda? I don't know, something tells me that if you really had discovered the secret of making women fall at your feet then you wouldn't want to share it. I certainly wouldn't, but then I've obviously got a worse code of ethics than the spam people. Damn, that depresses me.
>From : yourresponse@163.net
>Subject : RE: your inquiry
Funny, I'm sure I would've remembered inquiring about something to someone called Yourresponse. Is that an eastern european name? and has anyone heard of the site 163.net? perhaps on plannet freaking mars or something, but not here on plannet earth buddy, not plannet earth.
>"You were referred to me today as someone who is seeking
>a financial miracle. If this is true please continue - I promise
>this will be worth your time!"
Actually I'm not so much seeking a financial miracle as I am seeking money. I suppose I'd quite like it if a huge bag of money materialised in front of me, and that sort of counts as a financial miracle, so yes, I'm seeking a financial miracle. This means I can now read on. I feel so priveleged. Also, please tell me who referred me to you so I can strike him or her off my Christmas card list and come to their house and blow their brains out and watch and laugh as pretty blood splatters the house hold and the couch
>"I can help you make $2,000. per week from your HOME with
>your computer and phone. This is not some scam or mlm opportunity.
>Are you Serious about earning an excellent income at home
>starting Right Away with a simple system where people contact you?"
And there was me thinking this was a scam. It clearly isn't, look! He says it isn't! I wasn't actually thinking this was an mlm opportunity, mainly because I don't know what an mlm opportunity is. Maximum Lasagna Man? Sounds like a superhero! Maximum Lasagna Man! Scourge of wrongdoers! The mightiest pasta-based dish in all the united states of America!
But yes, I am Serious about earning an 'excellant' income, starting Right Away. Does this require any selling?
>"No, this does not require any selling."
Jolly good.
>"Currently we are accepting new team members at this time. We will
>train you thoroughly. In addition, we are willing to provide you with
>Advertising Assistance to virtually insure your success!"
What the hell is Advertising Assistance? Is that where you get someone to walk around with you and point out all the advertising posters? Or is this assisting me advertise something? Well, I don't know, I suppose I could erect a big sign to hold up saying "I am robert kingett, and I'm brilliant". I suppose I could do with someone to help me paint it.
>"Experience is not required. However, you must have a serious Desire
>for personal success."
I have a feeling they meant to capitalise the word 'serious' in this sentence but the retarded man they have to type this stuff up missed. Or maybe they have some computer program to randomly pick words to jam capital letters on. Either way, there's really no excuse for adding the capital to the word 'Desire' in this case, unless they were talking about the character from Neil Gaiman's Sandman books. Somehow I doubt that.
>"Call Mr Poopoohead at 1-800-CON-RTST Anytime" [phone number and contact name censored by management]
I like that 'Anytime' thing. Makes me want to stay up 'til three in the morning and ring them just to see if they're as desperate as I think they are. Well, it all sounds very tempting so I think I might - hey - wait a minute! That looks like an UK phone number! Gah. That's my chances of making 2000 smackers a week blown out of the water. Aren't they supposed to check these things?
>From : robert22223333@hotmail.com
Subject : hi there
Jesus Christ, do my eyes deceive me? Is this really a mail from ... MYSELF? Good lord! Perhaps it's a version of me sending a message from the future trying to warn me! Wait a sec ... I always use capital letters and punctuation even in my subject lines! My future self must have had an accident that damaged his brain!
Looking at the mail, it would seem my future self wants me to go on holiday somewhere. Perhaps my house is going to explode. I dunno about you but this is the first piece of spam mail that I've ever paid much attention to! Man this has freaked me out. I'd better go and pack my bags.
[ADDENDUM - ONE DAY LATER - House still hasn't exploded. Good sign. Going to the Cayman Islands next week. Received another mail from my future self telling me to go see him and all his girlfriends play around in the shower at www.hotsexyschoolgirlslutwhores.com. It would appear in the future that I turn into a woman. Sounds like fun. I'll keep you posted
Except, it would seem, the spam merchants.
I should never have to check my Hotmail inbox, I know I'm not going to get anything worthwhile, but the constant reminders whenever I get onto MSN that my inbox contains 153 billion unread messages kind of irks my tidy mind, so I have to go in and delete the whole entire folder, one after another, and there are 45 pages worth of this crap!. This does so tick me off. I'm so ticked off with the whole thing I think I'll take a few examples and take the crap out of them. Enjoy.
>From : mike_sullivan@northumbria.com.
>Subject : CONGRATULATIONS! YOU WON!!!
This, I think, is the most recent mail I got, utilising, as you can clearly see, devious tactics to grab my attention. The 'mike_sullivan' address makes me think this came from a genuine person as opposed to a steam-powered spam-distributing machine, and the 'CONGRATULATIONS! YOU WON!!!' part would surely catch my eye if I had entered any competitions in the recent past. However, since I haven't entered any competitions in the recent past, and since I don't know anyone who uses three exclamation marks in a row, I was not fooled, u idiots!
>"CONGRATULATIONS! YOU WON!!!
>----------------------------------------------------------------
>YOUR FREE MEMBERSHIP, FREE VACATION, AND FREE CELL PHONE !!!
>Looking for a secure and legitimate online home business?
>One that WILL bring steady, dependable monthly checks
>EVERY month and in the shortest amount of time??"
So how does the free vacation and cell phone come into this again? i mean, i may have missed something there, but surely no one could have passed this up!
>"How about if we gave you info on a FREE VACATION and a
>FREE CELL PHONE just for looking over our FREE info
>about this terrific opportunity to work from home as
>your own boss?"
Oh, I see. so your gonna over use the word free now? a little bit spastic are we? let's have a free party! at a free house! in a free room with a free table and free plates and free drinks. perhaps a lot of free people could check my free body out and i can have some free tongue action, i guess my free advice was freely screwd up and wrong.
>"What a GREAT OFFER!"
It kinds of undermines the statement that they had to say this themselves. Put these in the words of some other idiot who has his computer full of Trojans because he just had to try and get a free Xbox 360. and you've got your very own infomercial, but say it yourself and it just seems ridiculous. This is like Paul McCartney saying "Yes, I believe Paul McCartney's latest album is quite brilliant."
>From : Easily_Attract_Women
>Subject : Get all the women you want easily
It's that kind of impersonal e-mail address that just stops me from adhering to these people. They should take some lessons from Mr. mike_sullivan, above.
>"Limited Supply And Selling Out Fast
>Try This POTENT Pheromone Formula That Helps Attract Women"
I Already Figured It Attracts Women, MATEY, You Told Me Twice In Your Return Address And Subject LINE. And Ease Off The Capital LETTERS. It should be noted that I have turned on the Spam filters on my MSN inbox and this lot still made it through, so either the filters don't work or they're very easily fooled.
>"Because of all its exacting and expensive ingredients,
>Pheromone Concentrate cannot be mass-produced.
>Only a limited supply is left and it may not be available weeks from now.
>It's selling out at a record pace, re-orders are flooding in."
Oh well, suppose I'd better place an immediate order for your particular brand of funny-smelling deodorant if they're flying off the shelves this fast. Something tells me that either this company's CEO and all his mates have boxes full of the stuff in their garages, or they're lying through their extremely attractive teeth.
>"Don't lose out. Get all the women you want easily,
>excite your mate like never before...GUARANTEED!"
Excite my mate? What am I now, a panda? I don't know, something tells me that if you really had discovered the secret of making women fall at your feet then you wouldn't want to share it. I certainly wouldn't, but then I've obviously got a worse code of ethics than the spam people. Damn, that depresses me.
>From : yourresponse@163.net
>Subject : RE: your inquiry
Funny, I'm sure I would've remembered inquiring about something to someone called Yourresponse. Is that an eastern european name? and has anyone heard of the site 163.net? perhaps on plannet freaking mars or something, but not here on plannet earth buddy, not plannet earth.
>"You were referred to me today as someone who is seeking
>a financial miracle. If this is true please continue - I promise
>this will be worth your time!"
Actually I'm not so much seeking a financial miracle as I am seeking money. I suppose I'd quite like it if a huge bag of money materialised in front of me, and that sort of counts as a financial miracle, so yes, I'm seeking a financial miracle. This means I can now read on. I feel so priveleged. Also, please tell me who referred me to you so I can strike him or her off my Christmas card list and come to their house and blow their brains out and watch and laugh as pretty blood splatters the house hold and the couch
>"I can help you make $2,000. per week from your HOME with
>your computer and phone. This is not some scam or mlm opportunity.
>Are you Serious about earning an excellent income at home
>starting Right Away with a simple system where people contact you?"
And there was me thinking this was a scam. It clearly isn't, look! He says it isn't! I wasn't actually thinking this was an mlm opportunity, mainly because I don't know what an mlm opportunity is. Maximum Lasagna Man? Sounds like a superhero! Maximum Lasagna Man! Scourge of wrongdoers! The mightiest pasta-based dish in all the united states of America!
But yes, I am Serious about earning an 'excellant' income, starting Right Away. Does this require any selling?
>"No, this does not require any selling."
Jolly good.
>"Currently we are accepting new team members at this time. We will
>train you thoroughly. In addition, we are willing to provide you with
>Advertising Assistance to virtually insure your success!"
What the hell is Advertising Assistance? Is that where you get someone to walk around with you and point out all the advertising posters? Or is this assisting me advertise something? Well, I don't know, I suppose I could erect a big sign to hold up saying "I am robert kingett, and I'm brilliant". I suppose I could do with someone to help me paint it.
>"Experience is not required. However, you must have a serious Desire
>for personal success."
I have a feeling they meant to capitalise the word 'serious' in this sentence but the retarded man they have to type this stuff up missed. Or maybe they have some computer program to randomly pick words to jam capital letters on. Either way, there's really no excuse for adding the capital to the word 'Desire' in this case, unless they were talking about the character from Neil Gaiman's Sandman books. Somehow I doubt that.
>"Call Mr Poopoohead at 1-800-CON-RTST Anytime" [phone number and contact name censored by management]
I like that 'Anytime' thing. Makes me want to stay up 'til three in the morning and ring them just to see if they're as desperate as I think they are. Well, it all sounds very tempting so I think I might - hey - wait a minute! That looks like an UK phone number! Gah. That's my chances of making 2000 smackers a week blown out of the water. Aren't they supposed to check these things?
>From : robert22223333@hotmail.com
Subject : hi there
Jesus Christ, do my eyes deceive me? Is this really a mail from ... MYSELF? Good lord! Perhaps it's a version of me sending a message from the future trying to warn me! Wait a sec ... I always use capital letters and punctuation even in my subject lines! My future self must have had an accident that damaged his brain!
Looking at the mail, it would seem my future self wants me to go on holiday somewhere. Perhaps my house is going to explode. I dunno about you but this is the first piece of spam mail that I've ever paid much attention to! Man this has freaked me out. I'd better go and pack my bags.
[ADDENDUM - ONE DAY LATER - House still hasn't exploded. Good sign. Going to the Cayman Islands next week. Received another mail from my future self telling me to go see him and all his girlfriends play around in the shower at www.hotsexyschoolgirlslutwhores.com. It would appear in the future that I turn into a woman. Sounds like fun. I'll keep you posted
Shakespeare rap. the play hamlet in a rap song format
shakespears mind is totally rotten.
plotting quite a lot
plotting quite a lot
plotting quite a lot
everyone is suspicious
scheming quite a lot
scheming quite a lot
scheming quite a lot.
confusing leads to murder
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot.
the procrastinating prince didn't look like he could win
But in the end he took all his enemies with him.
on a dark night
there was a big fright
castle guards saw a ghost in the moonlight.
they brought herishio to check it out since he was smart,
but seeing the ghost put disbelief in his heart.
the king was dead,it would have killed the whole nation,
but his brother stepped in to assume domination.
widowed for two months the queen was in elation
when she married the new king,
they held a celebration.
the dead king's son
wasn't having too much fun.
he was so depressed he wanted his life to be done.
then he met his dads ghost and learned it was his uncle
that had killed his dad
wow, all along he was bad.
his moms adultery
also made him really mad.
now older son, take a second,
avenge my death,
take your uncles life,
let god choose the faith for my former wife.
\shakespears mind is totally rotten.
plotting quite a lot
plotting quite a lot
plotting quite a lot
everyone is suspicious
scheming quite a lot
scheming quite a lot
scheming quite a lot.
confusing leads to murder
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot.
the procrastinating prince didn't look like he could win
But in the end he took all his enemies with him.
his name's Polonius .
tell me you knew that.
he goes on and on
and boy he knows how to do that.
he cracks jokes and he's at the king's right man
o' yeah that one hand's always the best hand.
doesn't trust his son to stay outa troubles way
he won't let his daughter talk to Hamlet anyday.
k i ldouble l to the D
Polonius ended up like that you see.
Hamlet couldn't deal with it, live with it, or forgive it.
see his moms adultery was still making him livid.
he wanted to kill her
until his dad arrived.
he reminded hamlet to let her stay alive
"hold on what's the dizzle?"
"heard a noise over hizzle."
Hamlet stabbed and killed Polonizzle.
well, looks like his death is now ofizzle.
shakespears mind is totally rotten.
plottin' quite a lot
plottin' quite a lot
plottin' quite a lot
evreyone is suspicious
scheming quite a lot
schemeing quite a lot
schemeing quite a lot.
confuesiion leads to murder
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot.
the procrastinating prince didn't look like he could win
But in the end he took all his enimies with him.
The King made a fencing match,
but he poisoned one sword
And a drink if Hamlet survived the gore
The queen drank it and died,
the fighters would die as well
Laertes said "Make the guilty king burn in hell!"
Hamlet stabbed the king, told heratio his dying wish
"Let the world know the truth behind all of this!"
shakespears mind is totally rotten.
plottin' quite a lot
plottin' quite a lot
plottin' quite a lot
evreyone is suspicious
scheming quite a lot
schemeing quite a lot
schemeing quite a lot.
confuesiion leads to murder
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot.
the procrastinating prince didn't look like he could win
But in the end he took all his enimies with him
plotting quite a lot
plotting quite a lot
plotting quite a lot
everyone is suspicious
scheming quite a lot
scheming quite a lot
scheming quite a lot.
confusing leads to murder
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot.
the procrastinating prince didn't look like he could win
But in the end he took all his enemies with him.
on a dark night
there was a big fright
castle guards saw a ghost in the moonlight.
they brought herishio to check it out since he was smart,
but seeing the ghost put disbelief in his heart.
the king was dead,it would have killed the whole nation,
but his brother stepped in to assume domination.
widowed for two months the queen was in elation
when she married the new king,
they held a celebration.
the dead king's son
wasn't having too much fun.
he was so depressed he wanted his life to be done.
then he met his dads ghost and learned it was his uncle
that had killed his dad
wow, all along he was bad.
his moms adultery
also made him really mad.
now older son, take a second,
avenge my death,
take your uncles life,
let god choose the faith for my former wife.
\shakespears mind is totally rotten.
plotting quite a lot
plotting quite a lot
plotting quite a lot
everyone is suspicious
scheming quite a lot
scheming quite a lot
scheming quite a lot.
confusing leads to murder
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot.
the procrastinating prince didn't look like he could win
But in the end he took all his enemies with him.
his name's Polonius .
tell me you knew that.
he goes on and on
and boy he knows how to do that.
he cracks jokes and he's at the king's right man
o' yeah that one hand's always the best hand.
doesn't trust his son to stay outa troubles way
he won't let his daughter talk to Hamlet anyday.
k i ldouble l to the D
Polonius ended up like that you see.
Hamlet couldn't deal with it, live with it, or forgive it.
see his moms adultery was still making him livid.
he wanted to kill her
until his dad arrived.
he reminded hamlet to let her stay alive
"hold on what's the dizzle?"
"heard a noise over hizzle."
Hamlet stabbed and killed Polonizzle.
well, looks like his death is now ofizzle.
shakespears mind is totally rotten.
plottin' quite a lot
plottin' quite a lot
plottin' quite a lot
evreyone is suspicious
scheming quite a lot
schemeing quite a lot
schemeing quite a lot.
confuesiion leads to murder
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot.
the procrastinating prince didn't look like he could win
But in the end he took all his enimies with him.
The King made a fencing match,
but he poisoned one sword
And a drink if Hamlet survived the gore
The queen drank it and died,
the fighters would die as well
Laertes said "Make the guilty king burn in hell!"
Hamlet stabbed the king, told heratio his dying wish
"Let the world know the truth behind all of this!"
shakespears mind is totally rotten.
plottin' quite a lot
plottin' quite a lot
plottin' quite a lot
evreyone is suspicious
scheming quite a lot
schemeing quite a lot
schemeing quite a lot.
confuesiion leads to murder
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot
killing quite a lot.
the procrastinating prince didn't look like he could win
But in the end he took all his enimies with him
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