Archive for September, 2010

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Just a little story.

September 19, 2010

It’s actually my fractured fairytale I wrote for class.  Enjoy?

Large Blue Driving Hood

Once upon a time, a man named Large Blue Driving Hood lived in a small town named Fine. He was, as his name suggests, quite large, with arms as thick as tree trunks. Everyone in this town felt fine, except Driving Hood, who longed to be a big rig driver. His mother, who lived with him, wanted him to be a lawyer. One day, after a heated argument with her, she finally gave in, and Driving Hood set out to the headquarters of Big Stuff, Inc. with his résumé.

It was a nice day, with a few clouds scattered in the sky. The sun smiled down on everything, and people walking outside smiled right back at it. Parrots chirped songs Lady Gaga had taught them and people hummed right along with them. It was a perfect temperature, and felt neither too hot nor too cold for a leisurely stroll. Cars zipped by on the highway, and the people inside didn’t seem to have time to spare a glance for the poetic landscape.

Big Stuff, Inc. was a long drive, about 852 miles away. At a rest stop, he carefully extracted himself from his Prius to take a potty break. An oddly young granny in a conspicuously bright pink dress was standing outside of the bathroom. She introduced herself to him.

“Hi, I’m Young Granny,” she tittered.

“Huh,” Driving Hood grunted.

“Yes, that’s my name. What’s your name? What brings you here? Where are you headed? Is that your car? My dear, how do you fit in it?” Young Granny demanded.

“Mum told me not to talk to strangers,” Driving Hood muttered with a glance over his shoulder, as if his mother was watching him from his car.

“Oh, never mind your mother,” Young Granny snapped. “Just answer my questions.”

Driving Hood grunted again and pushed Young Granny aside from the entrance to the bathroom. He entered and went into a stall. Young Granny didn’t take kindly to being ignored and locked the door to the bathroom and hobbled over to Driving Hood’s car. She picked the lock, shuffled through his file of papers, hot-wired his car and started to drive off to Big Stuff, Inc.

Seemingly unhampered by the locked door, Driving Hood barged through it, and was met by the screech of car wheels as his own car was driven away. He threw an unfortunate man from his Lamborghini, and sped off after Young Granny. Young Granny easily sped out of the larger man’s view. Frustrated, he kept the pedal floored anyways, and never saw the speed dip below 120 MPH.

Upon her arrival at Big Stuff, Inc., Young Granny pulled out a flesh mask and masterfully painted it to resemble Big Stuff, Inc.’s head honcho, who was a rather chubby man. She marched into the CEO’s office, knocked him unconscious, and stuffed him in his own closet.

Driving Hood, on the other hand, had a minor car accident in which he lost all memory of Young Granny but remembered that he was heading to Big Stuff, Inc. When he arrived, he went straight to the CEO’s office. He read the name plate on the desk, which read Big B. Wolf.

“Mr. Wolf, what girly arms you have!” he exclaimed.

“All the same for writing,” Young Granny responded.

“Mr. Wolf, what a girly voice you have!” Driving Hood observed.

“All the same for talk – oh, forget it,” Young Granny sighed with exasperation. She jumped out from behind the desk and smacked Driving Hood with a baton. He collapsed, unconscious. Just then, a security guard that was observing what was happening through the security camera rushed into the room, and began to fence Young Granny with his baton. Young Granny defeated him and knocked him unconscious as well. She stole the guard’s stun gun and everyone’s wallets and turned to leave.

As she left, she tased the stirring Driving Hood in his goodie bag. As she watched him flop around like a fish, she stated, “And that is why you must be courteous to strangers. Au revoir, honey.”

Er, so that was it.

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Boring Post.

September 4, 2010

OK, I’ll come clean.

I lied.  Something interesting did happen on Sunday, but I was just too lazy to post it.

So this is what happened.

Caution: Extremely boring post.  Proceed at your own discretion; I will not take responsibility for exploded brains due to boringness.

Sunday

My mom screams at me to wake up (seriously, there is way too much screaming going on in this house) and I wake up.  She screams at me again to help her with her meat grinding.  Apparently, we’re going to use it to make dumplings or whatever in a few gazillion years.

So, I go out and get briefed on how to grind it: Toss in a bunch of chunks of meat, turn the handle thing, and use my hands to pull out the ground meat because apparently the exit-holes were all plugged up.

After a while of that, I got tired of getting my hands disgustingly oily with all the grabbing-out so I told my mom I was going to clean the stupid little grille thing so it would unplug itself and I wouldn’t have to grab out all the meat.

She said it was no use; she already tried it; I was wasting my time; it plugged up again.

Me stubbornly being me, I cleaned it and painstakingly unplugged all the holes in the grille thing, and put the grinder back together.

It didn’t plug back up.

And all the lovely ground up meat came out of the other end…. and I took a picture just to disgust y’all.

ARE YOU DISGUSTED?

Is it just me, or does that meat look suspiciously like DREADLOCKS?

Well, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that I’m not fricking wearing dreadlocks.  Ever.  Because that looks so disgusting.  And because my hair’s always under three inches long.

And another picture.

Are you disgusted NOW???

Seriously, don’t those look like dreadlocks?

No offense if you have dreadlocks, but I hate dreadlocks now.

Anyways…

I’ve been reading a lot of National Geographic lately (very boring summer), and I’ve heard a bunch of mentions of rapeseed. So I Wikipedia’d it and found out it wasn’t an allusion to roofies but it was some crop that people grow for oil.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rapeseed

This Saturday

I was, once again, sleeping peacefully when my mom screamed at me to wake up. (Surprise, surprise)

This time, it was to “test” out the new toy my dad had gotten a while ago – a hedge trimmer.  It’s basically a mini chainsaw.  If you know me, I’m pretty clumsy, and chances are, I’d forget what I’m holding, get tired, and chop off my leg.  A pretty big toy, isn’t it?

Anyways, my dad took over after seeing me struggling to keep it from chopping my leg off.  Which was fortunate for me, because the thing was like 9001 pounds and I just couldn’t hold it up for that long.

After he’s done, I get to take the broom and sweep up all that stuff that was trimmed off (yippee) and put it into the yard bin.

While I’m doing that, my dad gets a rake and repeatedly slams it on the ground for no apparent reason.

I find out why when he yells “BASTARDS” at our next door neighbors.  He’s been getting increasingly pissed off at them because they’ve apparently been trimming their trees and then throwing the branches over onto our property.

I’m don’t feel that different about them, probably because of that thing that happened… 4 years ago.  I was sixth grade and I just moved here.

*Cool and awesome effects that tell you this is another flashback*
Me:  *climbs tree to pick a fruit*
*sits on fence because the tree branch looked kinda thin*
Bitchy Neighbor: HEY YOU WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE FENCE GET OFF THE FENCE OR I’M GOING TO CALL THE POLICE NOW GET OFF GET OFF
Me: *jumps off*
*cries*
Bitchy Neighbor: WHAT IF THE FENCE COLLAPSED WHO’S GOING TO PAY FOR IT HUH? YOU DO THAT AGAIN AND I’LL CALL THE POLICE! I’M GOING TO TELL YOUR PARENTS ABOUT THIS OH YES I’M GOING TO TELL THEM OH YES I’M GOING TO.

*Cool and awesome effects that tell you this is the end of my flashback*

I told my parents about this and my dad exploded into saying “WHAT A BITCH” and stuff like that.

Sometime this summer, I was talking about how nice it would be to have a beach house with my dad.  And he was like, “Why do you want a beach house? We have a million dollar BITCH view.”

Well, it took me like 10 hours to write this because it was so frickin boring.  I sincerely hope you were not bored out of your mind while you read this.