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Poetry - 23.01.05 Writing - 10.12.05      Older  » From the Heart  » Clairvoyant Elegy  » For the Ghosts of Our Time      Newer  » The Art of Cooking With Turnips  » Radical Dreamer  » Mystery in Red  » Cerulean Dust  » Emerald     nuTang  » Lauren  » ECHO  » Kevin  » Stephanie  » Syd  » Ciara  » Quint  » Rick  » Grace  » Jamie  » Maryann  » Bianca  » Teresa  » Tiffany  » EM.com  » Newgrounds  » Get your own Banana Guard today!  » Quizilla! (Ask if you want a link to mine.)  » Virtual Turntable  » Maddox  » Kefallaville  » Mr. Quach Welcome to Not Getting Run Over By A Forklift 101. For our first lesson we'll... ack! No. NO! What a terrible way to start the class! But aren't solar-powered vampires a bit impractical? Did you know I have somewhere around one hundred forty entires? The primary function of the United States Coast Guard (besides protecting the borders and patroling national waters) is to travel back in time and battle pirates! If wishes were squids, then beggars would write. With the ink, you see. The ink of SO MANY SQUIDS. "It doesn't get any more serious than a Rhinocerus about to charge your ass." Subscribe to this to blog if you would like to be emailed whenever it is updated. | On a Quiet Night Sunday 6.11.06 8:36 pm Oh yeah, I'm pretty bored over here. I never update, not because I have suddenly sprung into some incredibly interesting life to which no other could compare, but because I really do nothing worthy of mention, as most people probably do exactly what I do themselves. Now that that's out of the way, I'll make some whimiscal story up for y'all for stopping
by.
At that point, I realized that nothing short of a diamond blade saw could sever my hair's hold on me, so I asked a nearby orphan if I could borrow hers. She was not too willing to just lend it to me, and seemed rather afraid when she looked up into my eyes, so I traded her a roll of duct tape and a rubber duckie for fifteen minutes with it. So, one hour and several jars of pickled pigs' ears, assorted chew toys, trolls' undergarments, and cans of Lysol later, I had separated the beast that was my hair and my skull. She took her saw back, stared at me one last time, turned, and ran. The jerk. But I felt so free again, and the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon as I started downtown. I never knew the morning held so many surprises, because nearly every person I saw was running away from something... and I could never seem to find out what it was. Randy the bum, my one true friend, and the only person who didn't run away could offer very little insight into the matter. He simply emptied his stomach at the sight of me (and his bowels, if I had to judge by the smell) and said, "You've got something on your face," then went back to taking long dregs of moonshine. Cheered by his comradery, I continued towards the city square and went to Walgreens. I
spent some time selecting a snack, and finally settled on coffee, ('cause, hey, if you can
drink it, why not eat it?) and went to the counter to pay for my delicious, ground treat.
When I put my money on the counter to pay for it, though, the cashier looked up and
screamed. After a mild fit of hysteria and several rather regularly intervaled seizures, she
regained control of herself and reached out a finger to touch my face. She must've picked
the only place on my face with a vein intact because, with the sheer amount of blood that
spurted out at her and on her and around her, I'm sure it was the sole path for blood in my
body. She screamed again, even though I found the situation rather funny... and then I got
light-headed, and died.
Later, DS
2 Comments. masculine hello kitty powderbox and mirror? haha nice story » Ajibalaji89 on 2006-06-17 09:41:21 hmm thanks i think i mgetting fined for it either way =( i love how we have been on nutang for since when it basically started and we are hardly on it.. i love the changes though » teresa on 2006-06-19 04:16:51
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