Beware for your sanity
Okay, recently I have not had a lot of things to say (well, I have, but not really interesting, and too drama queen-esque for my tastes and etc). I still don't. So instead how about some exerpts (I'll pretend/hope that's close to the real spelling) from a young girl's magazine:
When I woz eating dinner at my boyfriend's house I woz laughing + choked on my crush + now I have a massive bruise on my forehead. Doh!
I know what you're thinking. How do you choke on a crush randomly? Unless it is some sort of drink, like Raspberry or Cranberry Crush. Well, sorry to spoil the novelty, but I actually just read the page wrong and blended two different excellent tales together.
I was wandering around TopShop the other day when I spotted a girl wearing a gorgeous pair of shoes. I was keen to get a closer look and wasn't watching where I was going when I crashed straight into a shop mirror, which sent me flying backwards into a clothes rail.
The whole story implies no injury, so it does have the potential for humour. However I've decided to spice it up a little to make it more obvious, and into something that would earn the Star Letter position (if there is one):
I was wandering around TopShop the other day when I spotted myself. I was keen to get a closer look and crashed straight into the shop mirror, which sent me flying backwards whilst slowly circling my arms. I tumbled dramatically into a clothes rail which turned out to be Simon Cowel.
On second thoughts, there is no way to rewrite this story to Star Letter material (even after considering adding LOLs everywhere and coming up with the totally sensical and great acronym (seriously, my spelling is usually better than this): LO-LA [laughing out lower abdomen]). Maybe with another situation. But that's for another time.
BUT there is time and potential to create a Star Letter by Frankensteining the other letters, presenting:
The band I sing in was wandering around TopShop in my maths lesson. Recently the netball team started flirting with my crush Matt. The stylist was at a friend's party and wanted to impress everyone to kill time from the buffet.
A fit guy was messing around with my mobile phone when I was dancing in front of a hot guy who spotted a girl wearing a gorgeous pair of shoes, revealing my ancient off-white bra! Not only was he [then] in scolding pain, he was also soaking wet. He didn't look too impressed and moved to another carriage at home for privacy.
Last week it was raining and I slipped and landed in everyone. Even my burning monsters and ghosts kept jumping out dressed as a zombie, making me scream and grab my teacher's hand. After a while I realised why they were staring at me: my pink boob tube had fallen down in what I thought was a seductive way. Eww! The audience howled with laughter.
I have too much time on my hands. Actually, I have too little time and should be working. Must dash!
I know what you're thinking. How do you choke on a crush randomly? Unless it is some sort of drink, like Raspberry or Cranberry Crush. Well, sorry to spoil the novelty, but I actually just read the page wrong and blended two different excellent tales together.
The whole story implies no injury, so it does have the potential for humour. However I've decided to spice it up a little to make it more obvious, and into something that would earn the Star Letter position (if there is one):
I was wandering around TopShop the other day when I spotted myself. I was keen to get a closer look and crashed straight into the shop mirror, which sent me flying backwards whilst slowly circling my arms. I tumbled dramatically into a clothes rail which turned out to be Simon Cowel.
On second thoughts, there is no way to rewrite this story to Star Letter material (even after considering adding LOLs everywhere and coming up with the totally sensical and great acronym (seriously, my spelling is usually better than this): LO-LA [laughing out lower abdomen]). Maybe with another situation. But that's for another time.
BUT there is time and potential to create a Star Letter by Frankensteining the other letters, presenting:
A fit guy was messing around with my mobile phone when I was dancing in front of a hot guy who spotted a girl wearing a gorgeous pair of shoes, revealing my ancient off-white bra! Not only was he [then] in scolding pain, he was also soaking wet. He didn't look too impressed and moved to another carriage at home for privacy.
Last week it was raining and I slipped and landed in everyone. Even my burning monsters and ghosts kept jumping out dressed as a zombie, making me scream and grab my teacher's hand. After a while I realised why they were staring at me: my pink boob tube had fallen down in what I thought was a seductive way. Eww! The audience howled with laughter.
I have too much time on my hands. Actually, I have too little time and should be working. Must dash!