Monday, April 30, 2007

Comments

Okay, a little back track. You have to realize that when I wrote the story I only had a day or two to do it, (during STAR Testing I might add) and only a matter of minutes for the second half. Miracles happen? Not then, not for me. Now that that's out of the way, The monkeys only had keys to the exit and their rooms. I specifically made a rule about them not getting into everything else and ESPECIALLY not my room. But sure go ahead, leave a note on their door. But I have to warn you, they don't do the color you want and they leave a mess. You'll be stepping in paint cans for days. *stares at paint covered foot* And mom, I have this to say to you: Ha. Ha.

Lastly, it was not meant to be commented on. I merely believe that it tends to bode ill when there is absolute silence. Kinda one of those "Why the heck did they give him a pen?" moments when everyone is so busy being horrified by it that they're too shocked to say anything.

Not lastly. Lastly is that I have an odd feeling that someone is about to call the state about sign-ups for counseling. Forceful if necessary. Oh yeah, I'm in your head. You scared? You should be. *vanishes*

Friday, April 27, 2007

That bad, huh?

So, it's so bad you don't even want to comment about it? I understand, no body likes my work. I'm used to it. Not by mom, of course. She always says it's good even when she knows it's so horrible she can barely look at it. You know, it's the sisters in the family that seem to have the most honest opinions. I mean, not that saying it's good is a bad thing, it's just that it's impossible to judge if your work is any good or not if they always say it's okay. It's alright to give a little criticism now and then. Pound my dreams in the ground. At least then I'll feel like I need to work on it.

This silence is very reassuring, just like the time when I asked a couple of the scientists if the monkeys got out. You guys don't know anything about the monkeys I don't, do you? Hello? Just a sec. *sprints towards the door*

*muffled voices* What do you mean they painted everything in the testing rooms??? *footsteps*

O.O Okay, where'd they get the paint? *looks over at note on the wall*

白は非常に退屈な色である。
これは大いによりよくある。

Oh... So that's what a monkey does with a thousand dollars... Nice paint job though. *footsteps*


Okay, I'm ba- *stares at walls* Okay, that's too far. My room, not the monkeys'. And what's with them and black and primary colors? *monkey walks through door*

Ainsi que pensez-vous ? Assez bon, hein ? Nous avons obtenu de meilleurs costumes de combat, aussi.

You what?!? You messed with the combat suits? They still work, right?

Je ne sais pas.

Great... Well, I gotta go, I'll be back tomorrow... Hopefully.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Due dates, pencils, sticks, fliers, and vomit

A full week, I certainly hope. Nope, tomorrow is the Boy Scout yard sale. Yay! I just pulled off having my week completely ripped apart. Monday was stress of getting everything ready for the E.S., Andrew's Eagle Project, and STAR Testing. Tuesday and Wednesday were Testing and handing out fliers for A's EP, and now today Travis is coming. I just now finished the short story I was supposed to write. I might put it in here at the end. Oh yeah, and tomorrow we have to be helping at the yard sale "As early as possible". I hate busy schedules. The make me angry. And Tuesday, EVERY SINGLE PERSON seemed to be carrying a stick. In their backpacks, in their hands, in their dog's mouth. ARG! Why didn't they tell me?!? I threw up before we got on the train for Testing, too. Sound fun yet? Oh yes, I had LOADS of fun. I don't care, as soon as this is over I am going to lay down a die.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Here's the story, read it and leave me alone.

The Grass and The Lawnmower

The first rays of the rising sun stretched slowly across the ground, a single blade of grass sprouting out of the ground to meet them, its narrow stem soaking in the light’s warmth. And so it was that our story began. A story about something so easily overlooked in everyday life. A story about grass.
This young seedling, who was so new to the world, did not yet know of the events that would soon unfold. It grew in peace the first few days, the skies clear, the soil rich and moist. This, however, soon changed.
It came on the fifth day of the small blade’s life, a low rumbling signaling its approach. As it neared, the air grew louder and louder with the roar of its strength. The thin plant quivered slightly as the monstrous form of the lawnmower passed overhead, its rotating blades disturbing the air and causing a small gust of wind as it moved over the clusters of grass. The young plant waited low to the ground as the danger slowly passed, watching the tall grass around it be cut down by the machine’s sharp edges. As it moved on, the small seedling looked around at the even stalks of those that had been touched by the lawnmower’s biting blades. This, the young blade of grass soon learned, was not the first or the last of the lawnmower’s attacks.
It came again several times during the next few weeks, and the small blade of grass continued to grow in size and strength. As the lawnmower continued to strike, the grass began to plan a resistance against the onslaught. In the next few days, they clumped together, forming a thick wall as the time for the lawnmower’s strike drew near. As the roar of its engine came across the morning air, this young blade led the charge, meeting the lawnmower’s advance head on. Both forces strained as the two met. Minutes passed. The lawnmower was slowly gaining ground. Inch by inch, it overwhelmed the ranks of grass. Once the battle had ended with unavoidable defeat, the grass fell back and wasted no time in refortifying themselves.
When it came next, neither side was willing to give any ground. The two powers began to reach breaking point, and the grass once again was slowly faltering. Inch by inch they were being cut down. Slowly they realized that in all of the lawnmower’s supposed ‘attacks’, it had never really done any harm. One by one they ceased fighting, letting the lawnmower pass over them. This continued week after week, and the two lived in harmony. Some of the younger blades of grass soon made it a game of seeing how much they could grow before the lawnmower came to cut them back down. And so, the grass and the lawnmower lived happily for many years to come. The End.

Monday, April 23, 2007

I keep my promises

Yes, monkey, you can have your "better lodgings" now. Here's the keys, last door on the left, top floor.

*looks around* You know, I think I like this place better. So, have any of you figured it out yet? The whole monkey business? Yeah... I think some of you have. See? Sometimes there is something behind what I write, if only a little game.

Well, for any of you that haven't seen it yet, the monkey, speaking in Japanese, charged 1 grand and asked for better lodgings for fixing a reactor we were using for an experiment. Now, most of you would likely think that was just a random rant from past experience, but in fact, it was an elaborate clue about me moving my blog to here. Pretty good, eh? Well, I am off, you will no longer have a need to enter the old headquarters. Someone else bought it and is renting it out to other psychopaths such as myself.

Sunday, April 22, 2007

The beginning of the end

That is right. By this, the time of my old blog has come to a bitter end. But fear not, it's legacy will live on in our hearts... Nah! Don't worry, there'll be plenty more random goodness to come in this blog's lifetime. This is merely an introductory and will have no wonderful stories or anything like that. That comes tomorrow. For as stated on the old blog. I post only when there is seminary, or on weekdays during Summer. Farewell, friends!