RAndom
Okay, I haven't updated in while so I've decided to just post a random story I once wrote. Some of you might recognize it as one of my late night ramblings... it's called "Jibber Jabber: Arsenic in the Marinara"
I was thinking maybe I should go ahead and kill you. Why? Well, quite frankly I think you deserve to die. I mean, you come here everyday expecting me to sit down and talk to you and care about what you’re saying and then you turn into a small green penguin and run away from me. Really I think it’s about time I did you in. Now now, stop worrying, I mean I think eventually you might actually make it to heaven. At first when I’ve trapped you and tied you down and made it impossible for you to waddle away from me you might think to yourself, “Well she can just go to hell for that.” That isn’t a happy thought and if you think I’ll be the one in the basket, you should really think it over. So think happy thoughts and maybe you’ll float yourself up to the right hand side of the man or woman who supposedly takes care of us. Okay, so maybe I’m not really going to kill you, I do love your penguinish ways at times and sometimes I just want to bite your wing off for dinner so I’ll keep you around a little while longer. Please don’t expect me to sit here and listen to your jibber jabber however. I’m quite frustrated by the idea that only people who turn into penguins choose to talk to me. Don’t be upset, I didn’t mean that in a bad way! I just wish I had a larger variety of friends, you know? Well, maybe you don’t. What I was really trying to say is that we should go and get ice cream sometime, sardine flavored? Okay, but only if you let me buy some chili as well. It’s a deal. Call your friend Jeremy and we’ll make it a party. Ice cream, and chili and red peppers for him. Maybe Junior will want to come as well, then we’d have to get him some Tide. I don’t get why he likes to eat that stuff so much. You’d think that someone would get tired of eating the same detergent every night, but not Junior, it’s always got to be Tide for him. So, when you do come in here and sit down do you really always feel the need to start talking right away? I mean it’s like you never shut up and then you wear yourself out and poof you’re a penguin again. One day I’d like to be able to get my story in, talk about the duckelves and the way they worship me. I don’t need to hear about how the chicks flock to you. I’m a lady and a lady must be respected, okay? Yes I am too a lady, just because you’re not attracted to me doesn’t mean I’m not a lady. I’m a woman, you’re a man, well sort of. If I told you I had a boyfriend would you be jealous? Don’t laugh, why are you laughing, stop it, you’re hurting my feelings. I guess I will have to kill you, oh by the way did you eat the pizza I sent over to your house for dinner? You liked it because it had sardines you say, hmm, well sorry to tell you but that pizza was poisoned. Arsenic in the marinara. Have a nice after-life.
That is all and the end, as for my life. I leave in about a week and a half to go visit Nick in Connecticut. Meanwhile breakdancing and homework are taking over my life and an art project of sorts that involves Shakira and pasta.
I was thinking maybe I should go ahead and kill you. Why? Well, quite frankly I think you deserve to die. I mean, you come here everyday expecting me to sit down and talk to you and care about what you’re saying and then you turn into a small green penguin and run away from me. Really I think it’s about time I did you in. Now now, stop worrying, I mean I think eventually you might actually make it to heaven. At first when I’ve trapped you and tied you down and made it impossible for you to waddle away from me you might think to yourself, “Well she can just go to hell for that.” That isn’t a happy thought and if you think I’ll be the one in the basket, you should really think it over. So think happy thoughts and maybe you’ll float yourself up to the right hand side of the man or woman who supposedly takes care of us. Okay, so maybe I’m not really going to kill you, I do love your penguinish ways at times and sometimes I just want to bite your wing off for dinner so I’ll keep you around a little while longer. Please don’t expect me to sit here and listen to your jibber jabber however. I’m quite frustrated by the idea that only people who turn into penguins choose to talk to me. Don’t be upset, I didn’t mean that in a bad way! I just wish I had a larger variety of friends, you know? Well, maybe you don’t. What I was really trying to say is that we should go and get ice cream sometime, sardine flavored? Okay, but only if you let me buy some chili as well. It’s a deal. Call your friend Jeremy and we’ll make it a party. Ice cream, and chili and red peppers for him. Maybe Junior will want to come as well, then we’d have to get him some Tide. I don’t get why he likes to eat that stuff so much. You’d think that someone would get tired of eating the same detergent every night, but not Junior, it’s always got to be Tide for him. So, when you do come in here and sit down do you really always feel the need to start talking right away? I mean it’s like you never shut up and then you wear yourself out and poof you’re a penguin again. One day I’d like to be able to get my story in, talk about the duckelves and the way they worship me. I don’t need to hear about how the chicks flock to you. I’m a lady and a lady must be respected, okay? Yes I am too a lady, just because you’re not attracted to me doesn’t mean I’m not a lady. I’m a woman, you’re a man, well sort of. If I told you I had a boyfriend would you be jealous? Don’t laugh, why are you laughing, stop it, you’re hurting my feelings. I guess I will have to kill you, oh by the way did you eat the pizza I sent over to your house for dinner? You liked it because it had sardines you say, hmm, well sorry to tell you but that pizza was poisoned. Arsenic in the marinara. Have a nice after-life.
That is all and the end, as for my life. I leave in about a week and a half to go visit Nick in Connecticut. Meanwhile breakdancing and homework are taking over my life and an art project of sorts that involves Shakira and pasta.