I'm creating a new weekly segment called:[not so] FUNNY'S [unless you're high]
This weeks:
[not so] FUNNY'S [unless you're high]
An alcoholic comedian stormed out of his room and down to the rehab center's lobby. He found the nearest employee and screamed at him,
"Hey you! I thought celebrity's got more freedom! What kind of place are you running here?!"
Sunday, January 4, 2009
I’m planning a short story, sneak peak
The Book Nobody Couldn’t Like
Agreements were found and discrepancies were solved. One thing everybody liked and a million answers were discovered. It didn’t make sense. What was the problem before then? What was the problem before this unworldly book? It didn’t matter though. People were finding new ways to live. It provided so much relief! But it became dangerous.
He was just sitting with his terrific book in hand, reading over its pages. The slams at the door didn’t faze him. The roar of screaming fans didn’t sway his dedication. He read the lines. The way I remember him reading the lines is what really caught my attention. The way he read those pages was enough to stop me from listening to the roar of screaming fans and stare back. A sparkle was always evident. It was different though. Not the sparkle of a child. It was filled with more knowledge and it was more constructed. It was worn out, like he was just trying to make sense of something.
The fires wouldn’t cease. The incessant cry and pleads of tortured children got louder and louder. They cried to know, everybody was crying to know. People wouldn’t leave him alone. That’s the bottom line: people would not leave him alone. I saw this man write me. He was at such peace and now he could not be alone for one minute of his life. That’s one of the worst tortures of all. Everybody needs to be alone at some point. But not him, he was never alone. People were getting hurt and sick, he was threatened for his life every day, but he would not speak.
Words had not escaped his lips for what must have been a decade, maybe two. His lips were cracked and broken. The skin was split, every cut side by side. They were dry and white. They had no color and no life. The only way he had spoken is through ink, but he couldn’t do that either. He stopped after his damned book was written.
Agreements were found and discrepancies were solved. One thing everybody liked and a million answers were discovered. It didn’t make sense. What was the problem before then? What was the problem before this unworldly book? It didn’t matter though. People were finding new ways to live. It provided so much relief! But it became dangerous.
He was just sitting with his terrific book in hand, reading over its pages. The slams at the door didn’t faze him. The roar of screaming fans didn’t sway his dedication. He read the lines. The way I remember him reading the lines is what really caught my attention. The way he read those pages was enough to stop me from listening to the roar of screaming fans and stare back. A sparkle was always evident. It was different though. Not the sparkle of a child. It was filled with more knowledge and it was more constructed. It was worn out, like he was just trying to make sense of something.
The fires wouldn’t cease. The incessant cry and pleads of tortured children got louder and louder. They cried to know, everybody was crying to know. People wouldn’t leave him alone. That’s the bottom line: people would not leave him alone. I saw this man write me. He was at such peace and now he could not be alone for one minute of his life. That’s one of the worst tortures of all. Everybody needs to be alone at some point. But not him, he was never alone. People were getting hurt and sick, he was threatened for his life every day, but he would not speak.
Words had not escaped his lips for what must have been a decade, maybe two. His lips were cracked and broken. The skin was split, every cut side by side. They were dry and white. They had no color and no life. The only way he had spoken is through ink, but he couldn’t do that either. He stopped after his damned book was written.
I sit before you on what I wish was a typewriter to give you: some literature.
If you need to steal milk don’t steal it all from one person, but rather take little drips of everybody’s. No sense in creating one enemy. Instead, when they all realize they’re being stolen from they laugh about it and single you out- but with no intentions are causing you harm. Rather they carry the intentions of getting closer to their mates on a more mental and psychological level or perhaps just to make friends. However, one angry person will be likely to cause you mental or physical harm. They like it better that way, we like it better that way and cows don’t get a vote
If you need to steal milk don’t steal it all from one person, but rather take little drips of everybody’s. No sense in creating one enemy. Instead, when they all realize they’re being stolen from they laugh about it and single you out- but with no intentions are causing you harm. Rather they carry the intentions of getting closer to their mates on a more mental and psychological level or perhaps just to make friends. However, one angry person will be likely to cause you mental or physical harm. They like it better that way, we like it better that way and cows don’t get a vote
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
No Need To Stray Away From An Obvious Title: Sandwich
A sandwich is something that is taken for granted. Think about it. A specific time, place and location is needed to actually be able to enjoy a sandwich. I know you've all had that experience when you weren't in the right time, place or location and thought 'I'm not feeling this sandwich'. Or when you go to a restaurant and order a sandwich! But you just aren't satisfied.
The Funniest Thing I`ve Ever Seen
This first one is hands down the funniest thing I've ever seen and I've seen a lot of funny things.
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=oz88kJSdT6Y
This was also funny. Not as funny... not nearly as funny. But funny nonetheless
Why is nonetheless considered one word? It's 3
Why is nonetheless considered one word? It's 3
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=BzBzdPkd58g
Why are we looking for the martians, when we could be them?
I'm not really sure if tattoos turn green or people just all like that colour. I don't know because I don't have any tattoos. But I wondered something, and this is my wonder:
What if somebody tattooed their entire body that green colour? Imagine even more. Imagine if a couple tattooed themselves green, had a baby and tattooed him green. What if every baby this family had tattooed grew up and tattooed their babies.
The story all sums up to one question: If this continued and a large amount of the population eventually became green, would our babies naturally be born green?
And would that make us martians?
What if somebody tattooed their entire body that green colour? Imagine even more. Imagine if a couple tattooed themselves green, had a baby and tattooed him green. What if every baby this family had tattooed grew up and tattooed their babies.
The story all sums up to one question: If this continued and a large amount of the population eventually became green, would our babies naturally be born green?
And would that make us martians?
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Boston
It doesn't mean I haven't been high in a while. I just forgot or had other things to attend to. But at least I'm here now right? But now I'm going to go to bed.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)